The combination of a fierce snarl and flashing yellow eyes had Sam stilling. He didn’t fight as Dean pushed his hands away and practically tore off his clothes. Naked in front of him, he didn’t miss how laser focused Dean was on him... the heat in his gaze... the stare, like he couldn’t look away, like he was obsessed. Sam’s chest constricted. It was a form of obsession, it made him feel all sorts of hot being the object of Dean’s obsession.

His gaze dropped. He watched Dean’s hands work his own zipper and shove his pants down. So hard, his brother was so hard for him, it had Sam groaning at the thought of the possibilities. Licking his lips, he started to say something but was shoved back, his thighs forced open at the same time, and then Dean’s weight was pressing down on him.

He burned everywhere they touched, burned as Dean took his mouth, not allowing him to speak as he tongue fucked him senseless. Dean’s insistent thrusts had him hard and aching, throbbing against his brother. He hooked one arm around Dean’s good shoulder, raising his body, rubbing himself against his brother. God... he was gonna go nuts... no he was nuts, needing this, wanting it, letting his brother make so hard and needy at a time like this.

“Dean...” his brother’s scent was intoxicating. It triggered memories of every other time they’d mad love... fucked. It thickened his blood, made him groan against Dean’s mouth. “Shouldn’t... we shouldn’t...” But he knew... he knew right now, there was no stopping Dean if this is what Dean wanted.

Then his brother said his name, sending a hot jolt of electricity right through him. He hadn’t been able to keep a part of him from wondering whether Dean really knew who he was with, wondered whether this was just an animal instinct. The whispered word had him kissing Dean, loving him for another moment, bursting with the knowledge that this wasn't just about Dean conquering another male, showing him who was alpha. It was about claiming him... Sam, and that was okay with Sam.

When he pulled his head back, he knew stopping wasn’t an option. He started to thrust upwards, fast. “Dean we gotta hurry, ok? We’ll do this, but have to be quick... Bobby could come back,” he bit his lower lip as each lift of his hips brought him a little closer to release.

Shouldn’t... Dean didn’t like that wold. He didn’t like Sam denying him. But it was easy to ignore the words his brother spoke, especially when the younger man was begging for him in every other way. The way Sam clung to him rather than trying to push him away. The intense scent of the younger man’s arousal filling his senses. The way Sam moaned and whimpered in pleasure at his every touch, his every kiss. The hard heavy proof of the younger man’s desire rubbing against him, leaving wet burning trails along his skin.

No, Sam wanted this. As much as Dean wanted this. Sam needed this, needed him, as much as he needed Sam.

His brother’s smoldering kiss had Dean growling in pleasure and even though he knew he didn’t need the younger man’s spoken “permission” perhaps a part of him had been waiting for it anyway. Because as soon as the words were out of the younger man’s mouth, Dean didn’t hesitate. Grasping his brother’s hips with a low growl and pushing his brother’s legs up, holding him open, exposing Sam’s ass and his hole for him. He wondered if Sam would still be wet for him from when he’d claimed him before. Only one way to find out.

Dean pressed his cock against his brother’s opening and slowly thrust inside. Throwing his head back and growling low in his throat as the younger man’s tight heat surrounded him, and yes, still a little wet from when he’d filled his brother with his seed earlier. Hot and tight and wet. Perfect...

“Sammy...” The elder man purred his brother’s name as he began to fuck Sam slowly and deeply. Drawing out his cock till barely the head remained and filling the younger man up to the hilt again and again. Letting Sam feel every inch of him. He gripped Sam’s hips hard to keep his brother from speeding up his pace because he didn’t want quick. He didn’t want to “hurry”. He wanted to fuck Sam open on his cock all the way till morning.

The way Dean kneeled and suddenly pulled his legs over his shoulder, lifted him… the way he stared for a moment at his now very exposed hole had Sam’s stomach tightening, and his cheeks reddening. Yeah they’d done it all, but he wasn’t used to the blatant stares directed at his privates when he could barely move. His brother’s growl warned him against trying to cover up or move, so he did the next best thing… shut his eyes.

Then he felt Dean, hot and heavy, pressed against his hole. He barely registered that his brother wasn’t going to prepare him, got half his name out in a gasp, and then Dean was inside him. All the way. Sam bit back a groan. It hurt, but not like he’d expected. Maybe he was getting used to this… or he was still stretched from earlier or…

Dean started fucking him. Hard and slow, filling him completely. Reaching out, Sam gripped Dean’s thighs, fingers digging into hard flesh as he lifted his hips to meet his brother’s thrusts. Oh God… His eyes opened when Dean said his name, locking with Dean’s intense green/yellow gaze. The heat in his his eyes burned clear through to his soul, to his core.

Low grunts escaped both of them. The pace Dean set was sheer torture, making Sam want more, making him need it… making him afraid they’d be at this for too long, get caught. He tried not to make any demands, to submit. A sheen of sweat covered Sam’s body. “Dean… Dean,” he cocked his head to the side, starting to raise his hips, to force his brother to give him more. “Please Dean… we gotta…” White hot heat coiled lose in his stomach, had Sam panting for breath. “We gotta… Faster. Dean!” Exasperated, tortured, and scared of the consequences, he struggled against Dean’s strength, trying to push him back if that was what took.

Dean growled softly in approval the way Sam gripped him, the way his brother moved against him so eagerly, the pleasure and need he could clearly read in the younger man’s eyes when they locked with his own. He knew what Sam wanted. Knew what Sam needed. He knew that Sam wanted it faster, harder, but that was not what Dean wanted. He wanted Sam writhing and begging and moaning beneath him. He wanted to feel his brother coming undone beneath him, his body tightening around him as he fucked Sam to orgasm again and again, only finally spilling hot and deep inside the younger man when it became more pain than pleasure.

Sam twisting and pushing against him, begging for more, amused Dean for a while and he started angling his thrust to push more firmly against the sweet spot deep inside his brother. However his amusement began to fade quickly when the younger man started pushing against him in earnest, almost as though to push him away, and Dean stilled all of his movements with a low growl deep in his throat.

He glared hard at the younger man for a few moments, his fingers now bruising tight on Sam’s hips to keep him from moving, before he finally moved again. Only to pull out of his brother completely, leaving them both unsatisfied. He hissed at the loss of that tight heat around his cock as he pushed Sam’s legs off his shoulders, wasting no time grasping his brother’s hips again and flipping the younger man over onto his stomach. Pulling Sam’s ass into the air with one hand while his other pushed at the back of his brother’s neck. Putting Sam into the position he wanted as he lined himself up again with Sam’s tight hole and slowly pushed back inside.

Once he was buried to the hilt inside of his brother, Dean’s hips stilled, letting his hands roam soothingly up and down the length of the younger man’s back. Waiting. And then finally giving his brother a slight thrust, guiding him with his hands to indicate that Sam should start moving, should start fucking himself on his cock, while he remained still.

Each time Sam pushed at Dean, his brother barely budged. Despite the heat in Dean’s eyes, his displeasure at Sam’s arguments was not hidden. Hell, if Sam had any sense, he’d take that stare as a warning, shut the fuck up and just let Dean to what he wanted. If it weren’t for Bobby, he would... because he wanted this as bad as Dean, wanted it to go on. But...

Then the decision was taken out of his hands. Dean withdrew from his body, before Sam was ready for him to. He whimpered, need still riding him like a bitch. “Please... just finish—“ he started, hearing the sound is brother made too, knowing Dean couldn’t be done. Fearing he was that pissed... so pissed he’d leave them both wanting.

Hard hands gripped him, turned him over like he weighed nothing, repositioned his large body with ease, proof of the tightly leashed power of the wolf. If Dean ever lost control...

Sam’s heart beat harder as his brother’s hand slid possessively over his skin, over his back, pushing his neck down to the ground while pulling his ass up in the air. “Oh God... Dean,” he bit his lower lip hard, tasting blood as his insides went liquid in anticipation. “Hurry.”

He didn’t know whether Dean registered his pleas. His brother seemed bent on following his own time line. Then gripping him harder, Dean sank into him again, like he had every right over him, like he owned him, like he was the one who’d decide how fast, how hard, when they’d start and end. A groan tore from the back of Sam’s throat as he was filled and Dean’s heavy dick scraped over that spot inside him that drove him nuts. “Please...” he tried to turn his head but was prevented. “Please Dean... oh God.”

Did he hear him? Again, Sam was unclear, but all he knew was that he was allowed to move... that he could fuck back against Dean. At first, he moved slowly, getting used to the position. Oh God, heat spread through him each time he clenched around his brother, each time his ass banged against Dean’s hips. Harder. Faster. Arms straining, biceps bulging as he pushed against the floor, using it to help him get the pressure he needed. So hard. So fast. So fucking frustrating when Dean didn’t move... “Goddamit, please,” he pleaded again, riding Dean’s cock, knowing how much better it would be once Dean started to thrust. “Fuck me... fuck me Dean. I’m yours. I need you. Need to fuck... Please!” his voice rose dangerously high with his growing desperation.

Dean gently squeezed his brother's hips as Sam started to move. He growled encouragingly in his throat as the younger man pushed back against him, taking his cock deep, squeezing tight around him. As he watched where their bodies were joined, watched himself slide smoothly in and out of his brother's tight hole he slid his hands possessively all over Sam's body. He caressed the younger man's hips, back, shoulders, and neck. Sometimes letting his fingers comb through and pet Sam's hair in approval, his near constant growling moans letting his brother know how good it was.

He was close now. Just as close as Sam. When the younger man began begging again, not for him to go faster or slower, just for him, Dean finally began to move again. His hands once more found themselves on Sam's hips to steady the younger man while he began to snap his hips forward hard. Fucking Sam hard and fast, just like his brother wanted. Filling Sam deep and making sure his dick rubbed over his brother's sweet spot inside, knowing he was hitting it every time by the increasing volume of Sam's moans of pleasure.

"Sammy…" Dean hissed between his teeth, throwing his head back and nearly howling as he was quickly pushed over the edge. His cock pulsing deep and hard into his brother's body, feeling his come leaking out of the younger man's hole around his dick as he continued to move, fucking Sam through his orgasm.

And that was when he heard the footsteps approaching the basement door and the concerned voice from the top of the stairs.

"Sam? Everything all right?"

When Dean gave in, gave him what he wanted, Sam started to grunt and moan his pleasure. He couldn't help it, the more he tried to hold it in, the more impossible it became. "Yes, oh God Dean, yes," he muttered, saying other things, hardly making sense, only knowing that if Dean stopped, he was going to fucking die... or kill him, one or the other. White light flashed behind his eyelids each time Dean rammed into him, fucking him so hard if Dean hadn't been holding him up, Sam would have been pushed forward or to the ground.

His brother called his name so fucking sweet, it brought Sam to the edge. Then Dean's moan turned more animalistic, a sharp reminder his brother was a predator now. Did that stop Sam from wanting more? Hell no, he couldn't help it, couldn't help being turned on by the knowledge of how much danger he was in, and how much effort Dean had to... he had to be putting into keeping him safe from himself.

As Dean came deep inside him, Sam started to come too, but Bobby's voice freaked him out. "Oh God... Dean," he tried to pull away, even though his body was giving the opposite message, and Dean... Dean wasn't listening... was insistently trying to get him to come. Gritting his teeth, Sam fucked back against his brother, Bobby's second call barely penetrating through the haze of his mind. "Fine... we're fine... Bob...by."

Grabbing his cock, Sam stroked hard, fast... bringing himself over despite the fear in his gut. Ropes of cum shot out of him with such pressure, it was as if he hadn't come just a few hours earlier. He whimpered, said Dean's name softly, slowing his movements as what he'd feared was an insatiable need dampened, allowing him to relax. "Fine!" he shouted again, dropping flat onto the ground, exhausted and praying he wouldn't have to dive for his jeans.

Dean growled and purred soft encouragements as he fucked into Sam with determination, completely uncaring of the interruption of the hunter’s voice. Ignoring Sam’s words as well. His fingers remained tight on Sam’s hips, pulling his brother back onto his cock as he continued to pound into him trying to bring the younger man to orgasm. He knew Sam was close, he could feel it in the tightening of Sam’s muscles around him, and he could smell it on his brother’s skin. So close, so very close… so good…

As Sam finally came undone under his hands, Dean moaned unashamedly as his brother’s body clenched around him like a vice. Giving him pleasure even though he’d already come. The smell of Sam’s seed, his sweat, was intoxicating. Perfect. Dean continued to thrust gently into the younger man’s clenching hole as Sam shook and whimpered beneath him, only stilling when his brother finally collapsed boneless beneath him.

Dean gently pulled out of the younger man then with an almost regretful sigh. He thought he heard the man upstairs say something else, some confirmation, before the footsteps started moving away from the door again, but he didn’t really care. All he cared about was right here with him. Sammy. His Sammy. His brother. His lover. His mate.

He slid his hands possessively over the trembling sweat slick muscles from Sam’s ass, up his back, to his shoulders. Purring contentedly as he licked a long wet path up the length of his brother’s spine before laying down over the younger man’s body. Pressing his chest to his lover’s back and throwing his legs over Sam’s as he wrapped his arms tightly around the younger man.

“Sam…” Dean purred his brother’s name again contently, licking and then nuzzling against the back of the younger man’s neck.

Sam struggled against the urge to grab his pants and get decent. His heart was beating out of control, his body was exhausted... relaxed way more than it should be. And then his brother blanketed him, all of him. His calloused palms moving over his sweat slicked skin, announcing who he belonged to... who made him sweat and quiver like this... who would allow to fuck him right under the nose of a crusty hunter.

His breaths panted out of him, he moved his head to the side, a soft smile playing on the corner of his mouth as he felt the wet licks and kisses. "You keep getting me all dirty, Dean. How many showers a day you think I can take?"

He lay there a while longer, letting Dean hold him, cover him, shelter him One good thing about this wolf thing... his brother was much more into snuggling. He'd have to mention that some time. The thought had him chuckling, his shoulders shaking under Dean's body which was starting to get heavier and heavier. "You asleep? Dean?" Feeling his brother stir, he smiled again. "Need to get dressed. And a kiss would be nice... after..." He started to try to pull himself up.

Dean closed his eyes, an occasional content sound escaping his throat as they laid there together on the floor. He was tired. He had been tired before because he had not slept, and now after making love to Sam twice, not to mention other things, he was exhausted.

He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep just like this. Their sweat cooling on their bodies, yet warm wherever they touched as he held his brother to him. Feeling the beat of his brother’s heart against his chest. Hearing his breaths. The smell of sex, and more importantly, Sam heavy in the air, lulling him into a calm blissful sleep.

He was nearly there when Sam began to speak again and started to move beneath him. Dean made a sound of complaint in the back of his throat but he still slid off Sam to the side, allowing the younger man up if he wished. Reluctantly letting his brother slip from his arms however his tired eyes followed Sam’s every movement where he laid.

For a sec, Sam was worried Dean was going to be stubborn about this, but when he rolled slightly off, he sat up. He felt Dean’s gaze on him, leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. “Just gotta get dressed.” Staring into Dean’s eyes, he noticed that he looked a little less like he was under the spell of his wolfy nature… more of old Dean in there. “It’s almost morning,” he whispered.

Moving away, he cleaned up as well as he could. Good thing he had an extra overshirt that he didn’t need to wear. He chatted about nothing in particular as he got dressed, knowing Dean was listening, though unsure of how much of it he actually understood. As he pulled his zipper up, he noticed Dean was watching his hand, and shook his head. “You’re unbelievable…”

A smile tugged at his mouth, as he walked over and used the shirt to wipe Dean off too, though his brother wasn’t as badly off as he’d been. “Pull your pants up, dude. Before,” he nodded toward the stairs. “Are you… back?”

Dean smiled when Sam leaned down to kiss him softly. His eyes flickered briefly to the window when the younger man mentioned it being almost morning before locking on his brother once more. They followed Sam’s every movement with interest, even though they were tired. His eyes only half open really while he watched Sam pulling on his clothes.

When Sam caught him watching him zip up his jeans, Dean grinned but he didn’t look away. His eyes remaining fixed on his brother as Sam came over to him and started wiping him off. A soft sigh of contentment escaping his lips feeling Sam’s hands on him again even if they were more “business” like than anything right now.

Dean followed Sam’s gaze to the stairs briefly before looking back at his brother. The younger man’s words taking a moment to process before he finally looked down at himself and obediently pulled his jeans and shorts back up, tucking himself away. Though he left the jeans unbuttoned.

Once he was finished he yawned hugely and reached out to grasp Sam’s wrist, tugging his brother down to lay with him once more. He wanted to sleep and he wanted Sam with him.

“Dean!” Sam let out a mock long-suffering sigh as he hit the floor and repositioned himself to lean against the wall. “Alright…” His eyes fell on Dean’s jeans. He didn’t know why he felt self conscious, but he did, as he leaned down and buttoned them for his brother. It didn’t help that Dean kept watching his every move, either, though he seemed way to relaxed to ‘want’ anything more.

“Here,” he pulled at Dean, indicating for him to put his head on his lap. “You didn’t really get any sleep, did you?” He wasn’t expecting an answer as he brushed his hand over Dean’s face and neck, up and down, thinking about the night. “Everything started off well, didn’t it?”

He took a breath, “well, not really, since you were pissed. But after… when we…” his lips curved up into a smile, “… talked and in bed.” He nodded, not knowing how the hell Dean had talked him into more sex. Talked? Hell, he hadn’t opened his mouth. “Don’t tell your ‘other self’ this, but you’re kinda hot when you go all ‘strong, silent type’ on me.”

That was probably all wrong, but what the hell… in for a penny, in for a pound and all that shit. “It kinda went south, after,” he nodded again, mostly speaking to himself, still stroking Dean, thinking he’d fall asleep. “Had to be done, though.” His jaw clenched. Closing his eyes, he tried to fight the images of the dead bodies. He really should be helping Bobby with that. “Didn’t have a choice. They shot first.” Then why did it sound so lame?

Dean hadn’t resisted Sam buttoning up his jeans, or when the younger man readjusted him once his brother was sitting down. Shifting until his head was comfortably pillowed in Sam’s lap, the older man let out a sigh and closed his eyes when his brother’s fingers began to gently run over his face and neck. A low content sound almost like a purr escaping his throat as he gently nuzzled against the younger man’s thigh.

He was drifting off quickly now, relaxed and sated. Though he wasn’t so far gone yet that he didn’t notice the change in the younger man’s voice, or the tension in his body.

Dean slit his eyes open, looking up at the younger man with an expression of nothing but love and trust. Turning his face into the tender hand petting him, he nuzzled and kissed Sam’s palm. Finding Sam’s other hand with his own and bringing it to his chest as he twined their fingers together over his heart.

He closed his eyes again then, drifting off to sleep.

He was ready to wallow in his thoughts, when Dean looked up at him, like he understood. Sam half expected him to speak, to give him some words of comfort. That didn’t come, but when Dean kissed his palm... of the hand that pulled the trigger, he had to wonder if that was what was intended. And then Dean took his other hand, and pulled it to his heart, and Sam thought that was the most romantic thing.

His throat constricted. He tried to clear it, looking down as his brother, watching him slowly slide into a deep sleep. Strong and silent, and romantic... he just might come to like Dean like this.

Leaning his head back against the wall, he closed his own eyes. He didn’t think he’d get any sleep, not after everything that happened. But he was wrong.

*

A creaking sound woke him. He forced his eyes open and saw that sunlight was shining through the narrow window at the top of the basement wall. “Bobby,” he said groggily. The elder hunter had just reached the bottom of the stairs when Sam belatedly thought about their position. “Dean!” he hissed, shaking his brother.

Bobby had waited two hours after sunrise before deciding it was now or never. He hadn’t heard a peep from the basement for hours, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a very bad thing. It was one of the hardest things he’d done walking away from that cage earlier, Sam locked inside with his brother who’d gone at least partially wolf.

Dean glaring at him with yellow eyes, growling and baring his teeth… he would just as soon forget that memory, but he knew he never would. The only reason Bobby had gone was because it was obvious his presence had been upsetting Dean, and it was just as obvious that on some level the young man knew Sam, even if he didn’t know Bobby. He had to trust that would keep Sam safe, because taking the younger man out of that cell was obviously not an option. At least not without shooting Dean in the process…

Of course it hadn’t helped his nerves any when he started to hear the… noises… coming from the basement not long after. The only thing that had kept him upstairs instead of rushing down with his gun drawn was the reaction Dean had before to Bobby. Sam’s reassurance that everything was “fine” hardly comforted him. It certainly hadn’t sounded “fine” but he simply had to trust that Sam would tell him if there was some kind of trouble. He reminded himself that Dean was obviously injured when he tried to get out of the cell earlier, and the… moaning… he heard was probably due to that.

Bobby had gone outside after that so he wouldn’t hear any more, though he didn’t move any further away from the porch, wanting to be able to hear if Sam did call for help. He’d watched the sun rise over the trees and waited as long as he was willing to before finally going back into the cabin. The older hunter started some coffee brewing and then headed for the basement, praying that he would fine both boys safe and Dean back to normal.

Everything he knew about werewolves told him what happened last night shouldn’t have happened. Werewolves were only supposed to turn during the full moon. The rumors that they could sometimes change at other times were just that, rumors, but given what he’d seen last night… Damn it, how were they supposed to know when to lock Dean up then? Had it happened at random? Or had it somehow been to do with the hunters showing up on their doorstep not long after? It seemed too much a coincidence to ignore that possibility. Maybe Dean had sensed them somehow and the adrenaline rush combined with it being so close to the full moon made him change.

Then again, there had been some talk that there might be different species of werewolves. Just like there were different “breeds” of dogs and wolves, maybe there were different breeds of Werewolves too. He’d heard some hunters argue that shape shifters were just a different kind of werewolf, or vice versa. Sure there were obvious differences but the fact that silver killed both and the changing forms was too similar to completely rule out the theory. Maybe shape shifters were just a more “advanced” version of the curse. Maybe there were some breeds of werewolves that the curse affected differently. Some only able to change during the moon, others able to change at will.

Hell, there had even been talk that Lycanthropy was originally not a curse at all, but considered a blessing. Being able to change into a form of a wolf, it didn’t sound all that bad. But over the years something, or someone, fucked up big time and the blessing had become a curse instead. But, again, that was all just talk among hunters. Usually talk that happened in a bar after one too many rounds, so it was hard to put much truth to any of it. It’s not like any of them took the time to study werewolves up close and personal. Silver bullet to the brain and heart, that was about as much thought any of them cared to give to werewolves.

Bobby had thought much the same… until he learned Dean had become one.

Whatever he’d been expecting to see when he came down the stairs, he wasn’t quite sure the sight that greeted him was one of them. Dean lying curled up around Sam’s legs with his head in the younger man’s lap, both of them out cold and snoring softly, it was both comforting and strangely… disturbing. Given what he’d heard earlier… no, not possible.

Sam began to stir at the creek his boot made on the last step, ever the hunter even after being out of the game so long, and Bobby offered the boy a tight smile. The younger man’s obvious embarrassment would have made him laugh under any other circumstance, instead, Bobby’s hand remained on the butt of his gun as Sam shook his brother awake.

“What…” Dean’s cranky groggy reply as he swatted at his brother’s hand, blinking blearily up at the younger man, was just about the best thing Bobby had heard since he first heard the news about Dean. Even better was the lack of golden sheen to the younger man’s green eyes. Bobby let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding as he fished the key to the cage out of his pocket.

Sam had shaken his head as Bobby’s hand went to his gun, but Dean’s reaction to his trying to wake him had him letting out a breath of relief. Dean was back. And Bobby was staring at them. Great.

He cleared his throat, smiling slightly at the older man. “Guess we were loud... with the snoring... I mean, the snoring was all Dean.” Yeah that was hardly what he was embarrassed about as he practically shoved Dean off him. “Dude... quicker you get up, quicker you can sleep in a comfortable bed.”

Even on the bar floor, no pillows, nothing... Sam had been more comfortable than he could have imagined. It was like his brother’s nearness made him feel secure. Though his slowness right now was annoying. “Up,” he repeated, grabbing a bar on the cell and pulling himself up.

He shook his legs out, complaining under his breath about Dean needing to lose some weight... anything to maybe stop Bobby from asking questions. Even silent ones, with those all seeing eyes of his.

“Everything alright? I’ll go take care of...” he jerked his chin toward the stairs. He knew Bobby would have started but Sam might need to finish up the burying, or getting of other evidence.

At first Dean had absolutely no idea what was going on as Sam shoved him unceremoniously off him. He felt more asleep than awake, his thoughts fuzzy like his head was full of cotton, and he had a pounding headache to boot which wasn’t helping him concentrate either.

“What the fuck, Sam!” Dean grumbled in annoyance, glaring at his brother, having no idea what Sam was talking about before he realized that the younger man wasn’t talking to him at all.

Dean swung his gaze over to Bobby and he wasn’t sure what surprised him more. The look of obvious relief on the older hunter’s face or the fact that Dean was looking at Bobby through bars.

After that though, everything pretty much clicked into place. If he was locked up in this cage, then that meant he had changed. Somehow... just like before... even though it wasn’t the full moon. The fact that Sam was locked in here with him though...

Dean’s gaze swung back to Sam and he was caught between feeling so much fear and anger all at once he practically choked on he emotions. What the fuck was his brother thinking?! Locking himself up in here with him when he was...

But either Bobby sensed how he was going to start to lay into Sam and chose that moment to distract him, or both Sam and the older man were simply oblivious to him right now, as Bobby answered Sam’s question as he unlocked the cage door.

“I got one grave taken care of. Still need to take care of the other two and the vehicles. I put some coffee on upstairs. If you and Dean go and take care of the other two graves, I’ll see to getting rid of the vehicles and making some breakfast.” Bobby said, not really waiting for the other men’s response before he headed back upstairs. Hanging the key back on the nail on the wall by the stairs. Dean could only stare after him, his mouth hanging open a little in shock before he turned back to Sam.

Well, he didn’t feel tired anymore. In fact, he felt a little ill.

“Sammy? What the hell?” Dean asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.

"Okay," Sam whispered, nodding as Bobby brought him up to speed as to what was left to be done. He was glad that the hunter walked out, leaving them behind to talk. Not that he was sure what to say to Dean who stood there, frozen.

He knew it wouldn't last. Didn't. And then his brother was asking him what the hell was going on. He ran his hand through his hair, looked up and felt like Dean's gaze pierced him clear though his soul.

"We had... company." He took a deep breath. "Hunters. They... ah... guess they tracked us. They weren't asking questions or knocking, either. They just..." he nodded, recalling the night's events. "They were just shooting. We had no... choice.." He started to get choked up so he headed for the door, swinging it open and trying to get the hell outta there.

Hunters… They had to be the same ones that had cornered Sam not once, but twice. The same ones that had threatened the younger man, trying to make Sam give him up. They had tracked them down here. How, probably didn’t really matter right now. The fact that they had come here, charged in “guns blazing”, that mattered…

And now they were dead. Three graves. Three dead hunters. Dead because of him… He was right, he hadn’t wanted to know, and now that knowledge was twisting in his gut making him want to vomit.

But whatever guilt Dean might have felt knowing that the hunters had died because of him, because they were hunting him, because he was a monster… it had to be nothing compared to what Sam was feeling. Because his brother had been the one forced to pull the trigger.

Sam had barely looked at him as he told Dean the very abbreviated version of what had happened, and Dean really didn’t need to hear anymore. Sam wasn’t saying anything more though. His brother practically choked on his own words, and then started for the door. Running away… either from him or from the guilt, and Dean reacted without thinking.

He crossed the distance between them in only a few steps and caught the younger man’s wrist before Sam could flee. He pulled Sam to him and held him. He wasn’t going to let Sam torture himself over this. He knew that was easier said than done. Dean would be doing plenty of that to himself later on, but right now his only concern was Sam.

“You didn’t have a choice.” Dean echoed the younger man’s words softly but firmly as he cradled his brother against him.

Sam was unable to pull out of Dean’s iron grip. Taking a deep breath, he answered woodenly, “I know.”

He didn’t want to be comforted, dammit. He wanted to hurt. It was fair that he should hurt. Even if it had been them or us, even if there had been no other choice, it didn’t mean he should just be able to say those words, and walk away from what he’d done.

Resting his chin on his brother’s shoulder, telling himself that he was doing this, letting Dean hold him... for Dean. He’d try harder not to let his feeling show. He knew that Dean would eventually take all this onto his own shoulders, and that included whatever Sam was going through. By the time his brother was done, it would be all about Dean being a wolf... Dean’s fault, and Sam couldn’t... wouldn’t have that.

“They should have left us alone. They knew the risks when they shot,” he forced the words out, trying not to envision their faces in death. “Let’s... let’s finish this.”

Pulling away again, he hooded his eyes slightly, but moved faster to the door.

He supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him, shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did when Sam pulled away from him again, refusing to accept his comfort. It did surprise him, however, and it did hurt. A lot. Like a slow crushing weight on his chest. But then, why should Sam accept any comfort he tried to offer? It was because of Dean that his brother was now a murderer…

It was because of him that Sam was here instead of back at Stanford, in school, with a nice apartment, and girlfriend. It was because of him that Sam had been forced back into this life, away from all the “normal” that his brother had left them for. It was because of him that Sam was now in an incestuous “relationship” with his own brother, and hell, Dean wasn’t even fully human anymore either. That was about as fucking far away from normal as he could get.

Dean tried to recall their talk from last night. When Sam had chosen him, told him he wanted this between them, wanted him… but that was before Sam had been forced to kill three men to protect him. He had killed hunters to save a werewolf. Dean would have done the exact same thing if their positions were reversed, without regret. But Sam wasn’t him, and Sam certainly hadn’t signed up for this.

That’s why Dean merely stood there instead of trying to reach for the younger man again when Sam practically ran for the basement stairs. Like he was trying to get as far away from him as he could, and who could really blame him? Dean couldn’t, no matter how much it hurt.

Dean walked slower to the door of the cage door but paused before going through it. After only a moment’s hesitation he pulled the door closed and locked it, taking the key and putting it in his pocket before moving to the back wall and sitting down. He was right where he belonged.

Sam was out of there like a shot. Upstairs, he refused coffee and just asked Bobby where the bodies were, and headed out. The sooner they got this done, the better. Maybe he could put it behind him then. Maybe not.

Bobby had left shovels next to the two bodies. Grabbing on, he started to dig. And dig. And dig. Memories floated in his mind. Grave digging with his dad and Dean. Usually it was to find an old body and put the soul to rest. A couple of the times… Yeah, he’d known something was off about the death when one of the older Winchesters would tell him to beat it, so he wouldn’t have to be there. They thought he didn’t see, but he saw everything. Knew they were protecting him from the truth. Sometimes they weren’t able to save everyone. And sometimes there were casualties. And some of those casualties could even be from ‘friendly fire.”

He should be strong. Should harden his heart. Should be like John Winchester… everything he never wanted to be. A hunter. A person who believed the ends justified the means. Someone who could put this … someone who could just say this was in a days work, and be able to push it down so far inside himself, he wouldn’t think of it.

But he wasn’t John. He wasn’t even Dean, who Sam knew felt a lot more than he showed. The thought of his brother had him stopping, leaning on the shovel and looking in the direction of the cabin. He’d been sure Dean would grab coffee and show up. Then he’d thought maybe Dean realized he needed a little alone time and was giving it to him. But now…. Now when he was done with one grave, and part way into the second, he didn’t know what to think.

Peeling off his sweaty shirt, he tossed it onto a branch and picked up the shovel again. Maybe he was helping Bobby with the hunters’ vehicle. That was probably it. So what if he wasn’t here… it’s what Sam wanted, right? He looked back to the cabin, cursed under his breath and worked faster.

His muscles started to ache. Sweat covered his brow. The physical pain helped, made him focus, kept his mind off the questions that kept threatening to surface about who these men were. No, he wasn’t gonna look at their identification cards. Real or not, that would lead to more torture. More guilt. More wondering about the families they may have left behind.

When he finally finished digging, he tossed the shovel out of the hole and hopped out. Water would have been nice. He grabbed one of the bodies by the legs and pulled it close to the hole, rolling it inside. Yeah, it would have been easier to dig just one hole for both men, but easy wasn’t what he wanted. What he deserved.

After he got the second body into its grave, he took the sack of salt Bobby had left leaning against the tree and poured some into the graves. Some Kerosene followed and he burned the bodies. They didn’t need to deal with any angry spirits.

Tossing the first shovel full of dirt over the burned bodies was the hardest. His throat convulsed. He’d thought he’d beat this… thought he was in control of his emotions, but he’d been wrong. Dean? No, he wasn’t running to big brother over this, Dean had enough to deal with. For once, it was Sam’s job to protect Dean, and he was gonna do it… do it right.

Bobby gave a heavy sigh as he watched Sam rush out of the basement, past him holding a mug out to the younger man without barely giving him a look, and then he was out the door like a bat out of hell. He didn’t try to stop the younger man, the older hunter didn’t think he would be able to say much to Sam that was going to comfort him through this shit storm. He’d let Sam try to deal with it on his own first, and then step in if he needed to. Though he did wonder just what part of last night had Sam so upset. Killing those men, or… something else…

Bobby felt a sick kind of twisting in his stomach, not wanting to imagine what that “something else” might be. Having watched Dean nuzzle against his younger brother like some kind of bitch in heat and then the noises later…

The older hunter shook his head slightly to clear it and took a long drink from his coffee, seriously considering spiking it with something a bit stronger than milk and sugar.

It took Bobby a few minutes to realize that Dean had not come up the basement stairs with his brother. Any other time those boys had been practically joined at the hip. Where Sam went, so did Dean and vice versa. He knew that when Sam had left his family things had to have changed, that they hadn’t even been in contact for a long time but… especially since Sam was obviously upset, he just couldn’t see Dean leaving him to his own devices. Letting him take care of that damned mess outside on his own especially when… no it wasn’t Dean’s fault, but then again, it was. At least the older boy would think it was…

Fuck.

Sighing heavily and running a hand through his thinning hair, telling himself that these damned Winchesters might just be the reason for him losing his hair too, he made his way down into the basement. Dean was there, of course. Seeing him sitting in that cage, looking like a whipped dog, with the door obviously shut and locked made Bobby’s heart constrict more than a little. The older hunter wondered briefly if Sam had locked him in there and left… no. Sam hadn’t even wanted to leave Dean down here alone even when he was wolfed out, he wouldn’t leave him in there like this now.

Besides, if Sam had done that the boy would have left the key on the nail by the door at least, and Bobby didn’t see it anywhere. He’d lay odds that Dean had it, and Bobby sighed again, and he wasn’t sure if it was in more aggravation or worry.

“What the hell are you doing, boy?” Bobby asked, when Dean didn’t look up or answer him he was quickly becoming more annoyed with the boy than anything, even though he was still worried. “So you’re just going to wallow down here and let Sam take care of those bodies of men he killed defending you?”

That got a reaction, Dean actually flinched like he’d been physically struck, and Bobby instantly felt guilty but if Dean wasn’t going to pull his head out of his ass by himself… Dean finally looked up to meet Bobby’s eyes and again the older man wondered if this had anything at all to do with those hunters Sam was burying and not… something worse… if that was possible.

“As long as I’m here, I can’t hurt anyone… he doesn’t need to stay. I’m not going to hurt him anymore, Bobby.” Dean finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, and Bobby honestly wasn’t sure what to say. Not with the thoughts running around in his head, all the possible meanings those words could have… Maybe he should have put a bullet into Dean last night after all…

Bobby didn’t say anything more, he simply turned and walked back up the basement stairs, shutting the door behind him. He sat at the table where his coffee mug still sat but he didn’t pick it up again. He was afraid if he moved at all he was going to do something that he would regret and hate himself for the rest of his life.

Sam used his tee shirt to wipe the sweat off him as he trudged back to the cabin. That had taken like forever, and then he’d sat there just a little while longer, centering himself. He didn’t want to send Dean around the bend, something that was too easy these days. One of them had to be calm. Right now, it had to be him.

Pushing the door open, he walked inside, nodding at Bobby who sat with a mug of something. He strode straight to the back of the cabin where the kitchen was and washed his face and splashed water on his chest, before once again using his shirt to wipe off. He’d swallowed some water too, because he couldn’t wait, but now he went to the bag of supplies and grabbed a water bottle.

Twisting the top off, he walked back to Bobby, wondering at the man’s silent regard. “Dean getting rid of their truck?” he asked, bringing the bottle to his mouth and getting an uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Bobby looked up when he heard the door open but he didn’t say anything as Sam made his way inside. Watching the younger man silently, studying him was probably a more accurate term. Trying to see some kind of... sign... a limp in his step, any sign of pain, marks... anything that might disprove, or god forbid, prove his suspicions. That Dean had... attacked... raped... his own brother last night.

Even saying the word in his head made Bobby flinch a little. Every bruise making him wonder just how he’d received it. If it had happened in a fight or if Dean had given it to him. Bobby’s stomach felt like it was going to heave its contents when Sam walked past him and he got a good look at the younger man’s back. Scratches... definitely not made by fingernails, but they were healing, and that just made the older hunger feel even more sick.

Had this happened more than once? How many times? Was Sam just letting it happen? Like he’d let Dean nuzzle his neck while Bobby watched...

Bobby’s eyes trailed down the length of the younger man’s torso, and he was fairly certain he got a glimpse of fresh bruises on Sam’s hips when bent down to grab a water from a bag on the floor.

It took him a few moments to realize that Sam had spoken, had asked him a question... Dean... and that he was staring at the young man silently feeling like he was choking on every breath he took his throat was so tight. How was he supposed to ask something like this? Especially when he didn’t want to know the answer. When he didn’t want to face what the answer might be... But Bobby couldn’t just let this go on. Dean might not be “himself”, it might not be his “fault”, but that didn’t matter. He wouldn’t just let him...

“Last night, did Dean...” There was no gentle way to ask the question, so Bobby decided he wouldn’t even try. “Has your brother been raping you, boy?”

Sam choked on the water, sputtering as the liquid ran in a hundred directions and he stared at Bobby in shock. “What the hell, Bobby?” Internally, his stomach was an acid pool, fear mixing with worry and anxiety. What did the hunter think he knew? How much? How had he arrived at that conclusion?

Coughing again, and wiping his mouth, he didn’t look away. “How can you say that. It’s still Dean. DEAN, Bobby, and you know he wouldn’t do that…” he sliced his hand through the air in disbelieve. “You heard him last night, all that howling… it’s because he’s gotten protective … protective. He’d never hurt me…. And Jesus, not like that… what makes you even think that?” he demanded.

God, if Bobby thought that, he wouldn’t hesitate… he’d put a bullet through Dean so fast, there wouldn’t be time to blink. “Is it the scratches on my back?” That was the only thing he could think about. “He had a fever a couple nights ago, real bad. He started hallucinating and thought I was going to hurt him or something. Soon as I told him he’d hurt me, he stopped trying to lay me out.” He took a deep breath, “we figured out it was because of the silver ring he was wearing. Got it off him and … it hasn’t happened again.”

He started to pull a chair out, when a new fear seized him. Leaning toward the hunter, he demanded, “where is he? Where’s my brother?”

Bobby stared hard at the younger man. Not really giving a rats ass at the moment about getting sprayed with spit water, he had bigger things to worry about right now. Like whether or not Sam was lying to him. Bobby had known this boy, both boys, for far too long for them to hide much from him. He probably knew them both better, in some ways, than their own father did. The younger man seemed genuinely shocked by his question, but he also looked afraid. What was Sam afraid of? That he would find out the truth?

No, he knew damned well that Dean wouldn’t do anything like that to hurt his brother. Dean would kill himself first before allowing himself to hurt Sam that way. But people who went werewolf... they weren’t themselves anymore. He’d seen werewolves slaughter and eat the hearts of the people they loved, wives, husbands, children...

He wanted to believe that Dean’s instinct to protect his little brother would carry over when he wolfed out but... Guilt clawed in Bobby’s stomach alongside everything else, because if it was true than he’d allowed it to happen. He’d heard... and he hadn’t gone downstairs. Hadn’t stopped it. He’d let Sam...

Bobby wanted to believe Sam when the younger man explained to him how he’d gotten the scratches on his back. Maybe that was true, but it certainly didn’t explain what Bobby had heard last night and the fresh bruises on Sam’s hips. Before Bobby could say anything to that point, Sam was demanding where Dean was. The boy was still more concerned for Dean than himself even after...

The older hunter sighed and nodded towards the basement door.

“Downstairs. He’s locked himself in that cage, sayin’ you don’t need to stay, and he don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“What?” His head whipped around toward the door to the basement. “He just stayed down there… this whole time? Alone?” Biting his lower lip, he turned back to Bobby. “You didn’t lock him in there?” He didn’t see any reason Bobby would lie about it. “He hates being tied up or caged, ever since…” his eyes closed for a minute, his hand clenching at his sides. “Since he was held in that place.”

Letting out his breath, trying to force himself to relax, he opened his eyes again, only to find Bobby still staring at him. “What, it’s true?” But he knew there was another question in the other hunter’s eyes. “I don’t know what he meant, but he has these… these mood swings. He can twist anything you say… like … I dunno, when I thought I might go to another motel to keep the hunters off his ass, he thought it’s because I think he’s a monster. I never said that. I never thought it. That was not my reason, but he was … hurt…” he shook his head. “So I dunno what he’s talking about NOW, but I’m gonna find out.” He started for the door.

Bobby wasn’t buying it.

But the sad truth was he wanted to believe Sam. He wanted to trust that the younger man wouldn’t try to hide something like... this... from him. That Sam wouldn’t let Dean go on hurting him no matter what the reason. That Dean’s words hadn’t meant what he thought they meant. That the scratches and other marks on Sam’s body weren’t caused by what he feared.

Bobby knew the boys would do anything to protect each other, however. And the older hunter couldn’t... no matter what he wanted to believe... simply ignore something like this. He couldn’t simply just let it happen. No matter that Sam wanted him to ignore it. No matter that Dean wasn’t himself.

So when Sam started to walk towards the basement. To “find out” what Dean meant, or so he said, though Bobby could have let him simply go, he didn’t.

“How’d you get them bruises on your hips, Sam?” The older man forced himself to ask.

Sam had taken a few steps, when he came to a complete stop at Bobby's question. Bruises on his hips... it figured, though he hadn't seen them, or even felt them with everything else going on.

When he turned to Bobby, his eyes burned with righteous anger. "I get you're worried and I know why, I'll give you that much. But Dean would never do what you're thinking, and I'd never let him. Don't ask me again, not ever."

Turning on his heels, heart pounding in his chest he headed for the door, then walked down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he saw Dean, just sitting there. "What are you doing? Dean... unlock this door, get out here, come upstairs with me." His tone was low, even, but on edge. "I've had a bad morning, a worse..." he gestured toward Bobby upstairs, "and I don't think I can handle anymore drama, I really can't Dean."

Dean lifted his head when he heard the younger man’s footsteps coming down the stairs, but he didn’t move from his position sitting on the floor against the back wall of the cage. He remained exactly where he was, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms resting on them, watching Sam. Trying to ignore the younger man’s haggard appearance and his instinctual urge to go to his brother.

That was the last thing Sam needed, more reason to stay here. Hadn’t he fucked his brother up enough? Hadn’t he hurt him enough? Sam had been just fine before the younger man had come to “rescue” him from the werewolves. Sam had been happy... and now...

Of course he’d heard the “discussion” going on between his brother and the older hunter upstairs. It made him a little sick that Bobby had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he would do that to Sam... but then again, hadn’t Dean thought that of himself after the first time? He couldn’t really blame Bobby, and maybe it was better that Bobby thought that.

It would be easier to stay in here, where he belonged, if Bobby... or even their father, because Bobby would surely tell John his suspicions... thought he deserved to be locked up as well.

“I know...” Dean acknowledged softly his brother’s words. He knew the younger man was going through hell and it was all because of him. But as much as it would hurt him if Sam left, it would hurt Sam a lot more if he stayed and... “I think... you should go home.”

Dean hated the way he couldn’t stop his voice from breaking even though he tried.

“Bobby can take care of things.”

“Home. You want me to go home,” he nodded. “And where exactly is that Dean?” Sam’s nostrils flared. “Or weren’t you listening last night, huh? All of that... what you choosing to forget, or maybe it didn’t mean anything, is that it?” He slapped his hand on the bars. “I told you where my home is... now you tell me where to go, where’s my home... where... where is it Dean?”

Agitated, pushed beyond the edge, Sam kept repeating the question and hitting the bar... not caring who heard him. Was all this for nothing? Dean couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving before and now... now he didn’t want to be near him, why? “Where’s my home.... tell me... tell me,” he banged his forehead on the bars now. Maybe physical pain would drive away his other thoughts and hurts.

Dean was really trying very hard to hold it together but Sam certainly wasn’t making it easy. Certainly not when Sam reminded him of last night before... everything had gone to hell in a hand basket. Again. Crushed was about the only way to describe his expression as he stared at the younger man hopelessly, having no idea how to answer, but Sam didn’t stop asking him the same question over and over.

“Sammy...” He tried, but it didn’t seem like his brother was listening to him now at all. When Sam started hitting the bars with his hands, and then his head, that pretty much broke whatever will was left inside of Dean. He was on his feet and across the cage before he even realized it. Grabbing Sam’s hand through the bars and his fingers tangling in the back of his brother’s hair to hold him still, to stop the younger man from hurting himself.

“Stop it! Sam! Stop!” Dean demanded, looking into his brother’s eyes before he forced his closed before Sam could see him break again. His brother didn’t need to deal with that. He was dealing with enough. The elder man’s fingers gently pet through his brother’s hair as he pressed his forehead against Sam’s, sighing softly.

“I was listening. I didn’t forget. I’ll never forget... and you know damned well it meant everything to me, you mean everything to me.” Dean whispered, sliding his hand down to cup the back of Sam’s neck. “But last night, the hunters... its never going to stop, and I don’t... want you to have to do that again. For me... I just want you to be happy, Sammy. You were happy before all this, weren’t you?”

The instant Dean touched him, Sam started to calm down. His brother’s demand broke through the state he’d worked himself into, and he stopped hitting himself against the bars. Eyes locked with his brothers, he searched through to his soul.

“I don’t know that,” he countered, voice low and desperate. “You change your mind ALL the time Dean. One minute you can’t stand it if I’m not here and the next... you’re trying to get rid of me. Telling me to go home. What does that mean? You mean go back to Jess? After all this?” He looked up, his mouth almost touching Dean’s. “I don’t know if I was happy back then... back there. I know I was happy last night... I know I was happy even when I wasn’t sure that you knew what I was saying to you anymore. And I was happy this morning, because you were fine.”

He drew away. “But right now, I’m a little pissed off that you could ask me to leave. I’m a lot pissed off that you’re in this cage. I... last night, when I told you those things I was feeling, I wanted... I expected for there to be a we... you understand? You and I... we. An us against them, that’s what I was fighting for last night.”

He put his own hand through the bars, curling his fingers around the back of his brother’s neck. “If I really mean everything to you, show me. No... not by pushing me away,” he shook his head. “You know why last night was perfect in here? Because it was you and me against the world, Bobby and everyone else be damned. You wouldn’t push me away, not for anything. Needed me, like I need you Dean. Why’s that so hard?”

He heard the floor creak above them. Tears stung his eyes. “Let’s just... let’s go away, you and me. Ditch Bobby, ditch dad... ditch everything.” He didn’t want to answer their questions, he just... if he could just get away from everything and have Dean with him, everything would be alright.

Sam’s words made his heart ache but it also pissed Dean off a little, his brother’s accusation that he changed his mind all the time.

“I have never changed my mind about how I feel about you, Sam.” Dean almost growled, his eyes piercing the younger man with the most intense stare he could muster, as though that alone could burn the thought into his brother’s head. “I can’t stand it if you’re not here. The thought of you leaving kills me. I’ll always want you with me, that will never change.”

Dean paused only a second to let that sink in because he knew that his brother was going to probably throw a fit from his next words.

“But the situation keeps changing, Sammy. I only want what’s best for you, I only want you to be happy, to be safe, and don’t you fucking dare throw that back in my teeth, because I know you would want the same for me. You didn’t sign up for this. Killing other hunters…”

But even as he looked in Sam’s eyes though Dean could feel his resolve wavering, as always. His little brother had always seemed to be able to bend him around his little finger with barely any effort, and now was no different. Now it was even easier for Sam because Dean felt like he had no willpower at all when it came to his brother. He needed Sam. More than air. More than his own heart. Sam was his heart, and he knew wherever his brother went Dean wouldn’t be far behind.

He was only trying to protect Sam… his brother made it really fucking hard though.

“Where would we go?” Dean asked, and he felt so damned unsure and a bit lost right now. Just him and Sam… there was nothing in his mind wrong with that, he would be perfectly happy if it was just him and Sam always. Even if it meant… leaving their father behind… but if it was just him and Sam there would be nothing between Sam and the beast, the werewolf, inside of him either. “I’m still gonna change, Sammy… soon. Where would we go?”

He knew the reason Dean wanted him to go, he got that. And Dean was right, he'd probably be trying to cut Dean loose right about now, if he thought he was fucking Dean's life up. That didn't change a damned thing.

"I didn't sign up for a lot of things. Didn't sign up to fall for you. It happened." He took a shaky breath. "I don't think there's a way I can be both safe and happy, Dean... it's too late for that. And you know, all my life you and dad tried to get me to be a hunter... not safe," he shook his head. "Let me be happy... just let me."

He thought Dean was relenting, the softening of the glint in his eyes, the slope of his shoulder, he was coming around. When Dean asked where they would go, Sam started to smile at what he took to be agreement. And then Dean reminded him he'd still change, that they'd need help, that there was nowhere for them to go right now.

Where would we go?

Here... if we'd found this place on our own. Somewhere like here? Somewhere with a cage that would hold. Before the next moon? Fucking pipe dream. Reality hit him between the eyes, making his chest constrict... making it hard to breathe. Sam moved his hand through the bars to Dean's hand on one of the bars, his fingers curling tightly around Dean's as tears started to roll down his cheeks. His lips parted, but no sounds came out. There were no answers.

Dean wasn’t exactly sure how to feel when Sam said he could never be both happy and safe. On one level it wounded him because Dean wanted Sam to be safe. He didn’t want Sam to have to deal with hunters and werewolves and him becoming one, caught in the crossfire between all three. At the same time, hearing Sam say that he was happy simply because he was with him…

Which was more important to him? That Sam was happy or safe? His brain told him one answer, his heart told him another.

Dean knew this was no time to point out to Sam that he and Dad had not tried to “push” Sam into being a hunter his whole life. In fact, when Sam was a kid he and dad had done everything they could to try to hide the “family business” from his brother. It wasn’t until that Christmas Eve Dean remembered all too well when Sam admitted he’d stolen their father’s journal and read it.

Dad had been so pissed when he’d finally come “home” and found out about it. Dean had often wondered if Sam had never forced the issue if he and Dad would have continued to try and hide the truth from him. If Sam never would have had to see the ugly business of hunting…

Too late for that… yeah… too late for a lot of things.

Crushed… that was really the only word to describe as he watched the little flicker of hope in Sam’s eyes die and the sight of his brother’s tears hit him like a blow to the chest. He could never stand seeing Sam cry. Not when he was a baby and when Dean had held and rocked him all night when Sam had been teething, certainly not now.

“Don’t.” Dean whispered as he tugged on the back of Sam’s neck to draw his brother closer and kissed him softly. Gently massaging the younger man’s neck as he murmured comforting nonsense while brushing even softer kisses all over Sam’s face. Tasting Sam’s tears and feeling his own eyes sting more than a little. “Please don’t… After this, after the moon, we’ll go… just us, Sammy… just us.”

Closing his eyes, Sam accepted the kisses and comforting words. "I'm fine," he whispered softly, lying through his teeth. No, he wasn't lying. It was the truth, but for some reason it had all gotten too much. The killings... he thought he was handling that. Then Bobby's accusations, and Dean stuck behind bars... asking him to leave. "I'm sorry," he wiped his eyes and face with the back of his hand, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I know we will..." nodding, he aimed for Dean's lips and took another kiss, before leaning his forehead against Dean's and standing there.

Eyes locked with his brothers, he could see Dean's anguish. He'd been selfish, laying this on Dean who had enough troubles. "We'll get through this, I know we will. I shouldn't have... I just..." he licked his lips, knowing Dean understood him like no one else, he'd know how hard it was for him to bottle stuff inside like he'd been trying to do. "I can't stand seeing you on the other side of these," he said, gripping the bars. "Come out. Please."

Craning his neck toward the stairs, he looked back. "He's getting suspicious. He's thinking things that aren't... right." How could he tell Dean the accusations Bobby had leveled against him? But how could he not? What if Bobby caught Dean by surprise and Dean snapped?

Dean almost snorted when Sam said he was “fine”, but they both knew it was bullshit, and Sam certainly didn’t need it pointed out. He just kept touching and kissing Sam, showing his brother, like the younger man asked, how much he meant to him. His fingers gently pet through Sam’s soft hair when his brother kissed him again. He let his tongue play in the other man’s mouth gently, more tenderness than heat, before Sam drew back a little and rested his forehead against his.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Dean told Sam once it was over. Looking into the younger man’s hurt eyes right now Dean wanted nothing more than to take his brother into his arms and hold him, something he certainly couldn’t do while he was in this cage. So when his brother begged him once more to come out Dean knew he didn’t have the will to refuse.

At the first sign that he was turning again, he was going to lock himself back in this damned cage though. Not that he’d had much warning, or any at all, last night. Or maybe he had and he simply hadn’t recognized the signs? Some things he remembered pretty clearly but others were such a damned blur. Like he was bobbing up and down in a deep ocean, sometimes almost reaching the surface for air but then being dragged back down a second later.

One thing was certain though, he wasn’t letting Sam get in this cage with him again. He couldn’t really believed Sam had done that, put himself in that kind of danger. He couldn’t really believe that Bobby had just let Sam do it either.

He barely nodded and started to reach into his pocket for the key when Sam mentioned Bobby nervously and what the older man “suspected” and Dean’s stomach clenched a little. He knew exactly what Sam was talking about after all. He’d heard it all…

“I know. I heard.” Dean admitted softly. He hadn’t told Sam before how good his senses were getting, and they were only getting better the closer they got to the moon… He’d been reluctant to tell Sam before, but he didn’t want his brother to feel he had to reiterate what Bobby had accused him of. Hearing it once from the older hunter was bad enough.

“My hearing has been getting better. Smell too…” He sighed softly as he passed the key to the cage through the bars to his brother. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

He meant both his eavesdropping and keeping his hands off of Sam.

"You heard?" Sam almost sagged with relief. He didn't know how he would have repeated the vile accusations. Plus there was the fact that Dean seemed to be taking a lot of things wrong lately. What Bobby said might even have convinced him that it was true. Hadn't Dean suspected that about himself before? "You can hear from here to the kitchen. Whispers?" His eyebrow went up. His brother's hearing and sense of smell were sharpening. Less human, more...

He bit his lip and looked down for a moment, at the key Dean handed him. Closing his fingers around the key, he opened the door and let Dean out. His brother hadn't taken more than two steps when Sam pushed him up against the bars and brought his mouth down messily over Dean's. Arms wrapped tight around Dean, he insisted on a kiss, crushing their lips together, demanding and gaining entrance, tangling... battling his brother's tongue as he hung onto him. If Dean had any doubts about where Sam's happiness lay, he wouldn't after this.

One burning hot kiss followed the next. Soon everything that had been troubling Sam scattered to the four winds, and there was only himself and Dean... just them, everything they needed, right there. Sliding his mouth off Dean's, he moved to Dean's throat, sucking on his skin, hard. Maybe Dean couldn't mark him like that anymore, not with Bobby's sharp eyes around, but that didn't stop Sam. Dean's skin would heal before they were up the stairs, but they would both know... they belonged to each other. His fingers dug into his brother's shoulders, his biceps, he pressed his body into Dean's so hard one of them would leave an imprint on the other. "Need you Dean. Don't... don't ever let me go."

Dean grunted when his back hit the bars and he barely had time to think before Sam was on him. The younger man was crushing his lips with his mouth. Pressing their bodies so close together Dean could feel every inch of Sam through the layers of clothing they wore. Sam was holding onto him so damned tight it was like his brother hadn’t seen, kissed, or touched him in forever.

Dean certainly wasn’t about to protest, even though he knew he should, he didn’t. His mouth opening for Sam’s insistent tongue, he kissed his brother back just as hard. Just as needy. Wrapping his arms around the younger man’s waist and tugging him impossibly closer. His hands worming their way up under Sam’s shirt, running over every inch of hot skin he could reach.

He was barely able to stop himself from moaning in pleasure. His body definitely reacting to his brother’s aggressiveness, the younger man’s body pressing against him everywhere, Sam’s tongue practically fucking his mouth. He wanted Sam so fucking bad. Needed Sam. But now was definitely not the time. Not when Bobby had just accused him of… raping… Sam. Not when the older man would be watching them both like a hawk and if he saw anything amiss… like Sam’s lips kissed swollen or any fresh bruises.

But the way Sam was kissing him, touching him so damned desperately, he just couldn’t tell his brother to stop. Not even when his mouth was finally released, allowing him to take a few panting breaths only for the air to practically rush out of him again when his brother started biting and sucking on his neck.

“Fuck Sammy…” Dean breathed, biting his lip to keep from groaning. His fingers tangling in his brother’s soft hair, his others digging into Sam’s back. Just holding him there against him. “Love you… so fucking much…”

“Me too, me too, Dean,” he answered, burying his face in Dean’s throat, closing his eyes and just leaning into him as he fought the fires that had started in his body. He loved how tight Dean was holding him, leaving no space between them at all, playing with his hair... soothing him.

It took a while, but Sam got himself under control. He slipped his mouth against the sensitive skin of Dean’s throat, kissing him where his mark was already fading, then pulled up. His eyes met his brothers, and he gave him a wistful smile. Yeah, he really wanted to be alone with Dean and not have to deal with Bobby. They’d get through this.

He pulled away slowly. “Don’t look at me like that upstairs,” he said, this time giving Dean a real smile. “Should be illegal even if you weren’t my brother.” Leaning in and kissing him one more time, he started to walk backwards toward the stairs, then when he saw Dean was following, he turned and headed up.

Once in the livingroom area, his gaze met Bobby’s. “Want coffee? Getting some for us,” he said, trying to act normal... like things that should never have been said between them, hadn’t been. “Dean was... he was upset because he thinks I’m upset by what happened last night. With the hunters. I set him straight.” With that, he walked into the kitchen and started making the coffee. He knew that Dean would have heard him, but that was okay, he’d told the truth, and maybe Bobby would see it and give it rest.

Dean smiled when Sam buried his face against his throat and he just held his brother. Giving and receiving comfort and despite everything that was wrong, right here, right now, everything felt right. Sam was always right… damn him… but Dean certainly wouldn’t change that for anything.

He could have stayed this way, simply holding Sam like this, for hours and he would have been content. But when his brother began to pull away, Dean let him go despite his reluctance to do so. They’d probably stayed down here too long already. They certainly didn’t need Bobby getting any more suspicious.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh softly when Sam warned him not to look at him like that when they were upstairs. The elder man gave his brother his most innocent look, which was of course anything but, and grinned into the last kiss Sam gave him. His eyes definitely still followed Sam like he was the most beautiful thing that Dean had ever seen, at least until they reached the top of the stairs and he forced his expression to a more neutral one.

Bobby had looked up from his cooling coffee when he heard the footsteps coming up from the basement. Two pairs of footsteps. His eyes critically focusing on Sam first and then Dean. There wasn’t any malice in the older hunter’s expression and Dean kept his own carefully blank.

He wasn’t angry at Bobby for the accusations, no matter how much they hurt. He knew Bobby was only looking out for Sam, and Dean would want him to. Not simply ignore something like that no matter who he thought was doing it. If Dean was hurting Sam like that he would have expected and wanted Bobby to put a bullet in him.

If anything though, Dean thought he saw a flash of guilt in Bobby’s eyes before the older man finished off his cold coffee and stood up.

“When you boys finish your coffee, come help be with the cars outside.” The older man said, giving Sam a nod before he headed out the back door. Dean sighed softly. He guessed they were all just going to forget it had happened. That was fine with him, he supposed.

Dean walked over to the fridge and opened it up.

“I’m starving. We got any food in this place?”

“There’s stuff for sandwiches,” Sam answered, still working on the coffee. Afer he heard the front door closed, he looked at Dean. “Bobby didn’t say anything. Maybe he’s... he gets it.” Otherwise, Bobby thought Dean would have been next to get grilled.

He finished making the coffee, and poured a mug for each of them. Grabbing his phone, he checked for messages from dad, then texted him. Again. “You think he’s okay? Dad?” Course Dean couldn’t know either, and it had been a question they’d batted around often enough, but he couldn’t help asking.

Once Dean had his sandwich ready and had taken a couple bites, Sam picked up his coffee. “We should go. But you get to ride with Bobby, I don’t know what to say if he starts in on me again.” Mug in hand, he started to head out, his gaze lingering on Dean’s face or a second, followed by a shy smile, before he walked out and had to put on a mask hiding his feelings again.

Dean found the bread, peanut butter, and jelly, and pulled them out to make himself a quick sandwich. Glancing towards the door about the same time as Sam did and shrugged. Maybe Bobby got it, maybe he didn’t and he still thought he was capable of doing those awful things to his brother. Maybe the older man was just waiting to get him alone like he had waited for Sam to be alone before leveling the accusations against him. Divide and conquer. He didn’t know. He hoped it was the former and they could all just forget about it, but he wouldn’t rule out the latter.

He gave his brother a nod of thanks, taking a sip of coffee to wash down his sandwich as he watched Sam check his phone. Dean frowned a bit at the look on his brother’s face and knew even before Sam said anything there was still no word from Dad.

What the fuck? If anything had happened to the older man there was no way they’d know it until it was too late. Maybe it was just inconvenient for their father to answer his phone right now, but still, even a text to say he was alive would be nice. Still, it wasn’t the first time Dad had done similar. Even though the older man had certainly bitched him out enough if he didn’t answer back in a timely fashion while he was away on a hunt.

“You know dad when he gets into a hunt.” Dean finally said with another shrug. Even though he was worried about their dad too, there wasn’t anything they could do about it right now, not when the full moon was so close. So it was better to just not worry and pretend their father was fine.

Dean nodded but made a face when Sam told him he was going to ride with Bobby to take care of the hunters cars. Not that he wanted to let the older man have the opportunity to grill his brother again, but he didn’t want to get grilled either. Still he didn’t protest as he followed Sam out the door. Returning the small smile Sam gave him made him almost not care if Bobby did spend the entire time grilling him about Sam.

*

As it turned out though, Bobby didn’t do any of that even once they were alone together. They drove the hunters cars down to the nearby lake pretty much in silence and took care of the messy deed of drowning the vehicles without any incident. Even on the drive back Bobby didn’t mention it. Apparently the older hunter had decided to ignore his suspicions, at least until Dean gave him reason to think otherwise, which Dean certainly was not going to do.

Once they got back to the cabin Bobby made lunch for them all. Well, breakfast for lunch since they’d missed actual breakfast. Dean had always loved Bobby’s omelets and the older man made it just the way he liked it. Recognizing it for the peace offering it was, Dean finally relaxed and the atmosphere became a little lighter between the three men. Each of them talking a little bit about what they’d been up to over the last couple of years since it had been a while since the three of them had been in the same room together. It was almost pleasant.

As they were clearing up the dishes from their breakfast/lunch they were all kind of startled and froze when Sam’s phone began to ring.

Maybe he’d made peace with himself, or maybe it was Dean’s presence... whatever it was, Sam had a lot less trouble taking care of the dead hunters’ vehicles than he had with burying them. When they returned, he didn’t notice any extra tension in Dean. When his eyes sought out and found his brother’s, there was no ‘message’ in his brother’s greens. So Bobby hadn’t grilled him. Lucky.

At the cabin, Bobby cooked for them. It reminded Sam of when they were kids. Bobby was always the one to cook when they were together. If dad was around though, he and Dean had to pretty much keep quiet and let the older hunters talk. Later, Dean had been allowed into that circle. Sam had just kept busy with all the interesting things Bobby had laying around, and his books.

Sitting around the table, they actually relaxed enough to talk. Maybe he was wrong, but when it was his turn to tell about his college experiences, he thought Dean tensed. He didn’t look over at his brother, made sure he didn’t show how much he’d loved being at the university... of being normal, and learning and being rewarded for knowing shit. He also made no mention of women, especially the one that weighed on his heart. Made him feel hella guilty for his choices.

When his phone rang, he gave a start, afraid it was Jess. Then he saw the screen, and hissed ‘dad,’ before picking it up and repeating. “Where are—“

In his typical way, his father cut him off, asked if Dean was alright, then said what he had to say and hung up without answering Sam’s question about a cure. Letting out a frustrated breath, he dropped the phone down onto the table.

“He’s back. Says we need to meet him in Kilington.” First motel in the phonebook, that went without saying. “Says we have to make it before ... before the full moon,” he stuttered, looking apologetically at his brother.

Dad?

Dean had seen the look of almost panic dross his brother’s face so he knew that’s not who Sam had expected to be on the other end of the line. Honestly, Dean hadn’t really expected it to be their father either. When had the man ever actually called them back in a timely manner when they were trying to get a hold of him? Sure, he hadn’t contacted them in the last several days, but Sam had just texted the man again this morning.

Dean fought the urge to grab the phone away from his brother and start launching questions at their father himself. But it probably wouldn’t have done any good because Sam didn’t even get one question off before their dad obviously cut him off. Unfortunately Dean couldn’t actually hear what the other man was saying over the line. His ears weren’t that good. But he could pick up his father’s voice if not the actual words and that made him relax a little. Even as his dad’s urgent tone made him nervous too.

When Sam finally hung up the phone, Dean found himself almost on edge waiting for his brother to tell them what the man had said. Had he… found that Connal guy? Was there a cure after all? Dean almost didn’t want to dare to hope.

When Sam finally relayed his father’s message however Dean fairly gaped at him. What the hell? Their dad wanted them to leave? Before the full moon? But he was safe here, Sam was safe here, safer than anywhere else with the cage at least. Aside from the hunters who’d attacked this place was the perfect place for him to hole up through the full moon. Dad would know that, at least, his father would know that if he’d bothered to check any of his messages, and Dad wanted them to leave?

Dean turned to look at Bobby, not like the older hunter had any special insight to the mind of John Winchester, but… maybe he was hoping for someone to start talking sense. Maybe he was looking for Bobby to disagree with John, as he’d done on many occasions, and say they should just stay here through the moon cycle and go meet their dad afterwards.

Bobby remained stubbornly silent though. One look at Sam and Dean realized his brother was waiting on him to speak too. Like it was his decision… God damn it…

Dean ground his teeth together before sighing heavily and pushing himself away from the table. His omelet now sitting heavily in his stomach.

“I’ll start packing up.”

The silence had been awkward, all of them waiting to see what Dean said. From the look on Bobby's face, Sam thought the older hunter wasn't happy with John's instructions, but the fact that he wasn't calling him back told Sam he trusted his dad. Of course Dean almost instantly went with their dad's instruction. It was typical.

Giving a nod, Sam followed. "Why do you think he wants us to go to him instead of meeting us here?" All the way upstairs, Sam peppered Dean with questions. Questions his brother could not possibly have answers to. Eventually, he trailed off into silence.

The three men efficiently packed their stuff, leaving no trace of their presence. Sam hefted a bag into the back of the impala, his shoulder bumping Dean's. When he looked over at his brother, he felt Bobby's gaze on them from quite a distance away, where he was loading his own truck. "You don't think he'll say anything to dad." If their dad got even a hint of Bobby's suspicion, they'd be under two pairs of watchful eyes. Sam didn't think he could stand it. As it was, Bobby was making him damned nervous.

At least they hadn’t had the chance to get comfortable, so packing up was quick and easy. Dean did his best to hide his bitterness and reluctance, but he knew he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. The same questions Sam asked him, Dean was asking himself, would have asked their father, if he thought he’d actually get an answer from the older man. But he knew he wouldn’t, calling their dad back would probably only get their call sent straight to voice mail. Dean was so frustrated he really just wanted to say fuck it, they were staying here, if Dad wanted them for something he could come to them for a change.

Normally, Dean wouldn’t have much cared at their father’s cryptic order. He trusted the man to know what he was doing. If Dad wanted them to meet him somewhere, he would have gone, no questions asked, trusting his father to fill them in once they got there.

This was different... it was only a few more days to the full moon for Christ sake. He needed to be somewhere they could lock him up. He was afraid chains weren’t going to cut it, and... he was afraid. For Sam. For his Dad. For Bobby. For all the innocent people who would be in danger if he got loose.

He needed to be caged, damn it...

Dean sighed a little when he felt Sam’s shoulder bump into his, he offered the younger man a half hearted smile, that he appreciated the effort, but nothing was really going to cheer him up right now. He had enough on his mind, and when Sam asked him his next question, that was just really one more thing Dean did not really want to think about.

“I don’t know.” Dean finally said softly as he shut the impala’s trunk. It wasn’t a good answer, but it was the only one he could give. He wished he could reassure his brother better, but he was just about out of reassurances at this point. Dean looked over to Bobby who seemed to be ready to go.

“We’ll follow you.” Dean told the older hunter, and Bobby nodded, getting into his truck. Dean walked over to the drivers side of the impala and got in, reaching over to unlock the other door for Sam. As soon as Sam got in he started the car, for once the familiar rumbling engine not the least bit comforting.