Haunting

Author: IthielDragon

Rating: NC-17

Warning: See the end of the fic if you really want to be warned, and spoiled.

Summary: There are many ways to get rid of a restless spirit...

Spoilers: None really. Takes place in no specific time period in the series, though since I mentioned some things in early season one I guess it would take place either after those episodes during season one or later.

Disclaimer: I own no characters or situations in Supernatural, I’m making no money from this. I would appreciate it if no one sues. Thanks.

Beta thanks: Thanks to LeiaDianaMinerva for giving this fic a read over and convincing me it didn’t suck too much too post. All mistakes are mine.

Notes: Slightly edited from the first time I posted on Wincest. Hopefully better.

Word Count: 7000 or so





There were lots of ways to get rid of a restless spirit.

Usually salting and burning the spirit’s physical remains took care of the job nice and easy. ‘Easy’ being a relative term, of course. In their line of work very little was ‘nice’ and even less was ‘easy’. But since ninety-nine percent of the time it was something personal that tied the spirit to the physical world, and there wasn’t anything more personal than ones own body, burning it almost always took care of the job. Sending the restless spirit on to wherever spirits went. Heaven? Hell? Reincarnation? He and Sam were still in debate over that.

Of course, sometimes it wasn’t the body at all that was holding the spirit here. Then it was like a damn scavenger hunt to find just what they had to burn, sanctify, melt, or otherwise destroy to get rid of the damn thing. Like that time when he and Sam went after the ‘legendary’ Hookman. Cool as it was to say they'd hunted one of the most famous urban legends of all time, it had been a royal pain in the ass. The body had already been cremated, nothing left to burn except the hook itself. Only the hook had been melted down, reforged, and they’d only discovered at the last minute into what, but thankfully in time to keep Sam from being gutted.

Damn that had been a bitch.

Then of course there was the evil phantom ghost truck, causing wrecks and turning people into street pancakes. Burning that asshole’s body hadn’t done any good, the truck itself had come after them, and there wasn’t any damn way they could burn a whole truck. So he and Sam had to be inventive, leading it to hallowed ground, thankfully it had worked. Dean would pass on another one of those, thanks very much. He didn’t much enjoy being used as bait.

Thankfully this job was just another ‘typical’ salt and burn. Nothing fancy. Just dig up the corpse. Douse it with salt and gasoline. Light a match and presto, done. No sweat. At least, no sweat on his part.

It had been Sam’s turn to do the digging this time while Dean stood watch, and watch he did, with much appreciation, actually. The day had been hot and almost unbearably humid, not uncommon this time of year in this part of the country, and hadn't cooled in the least when the sun went down. Sam had decided to remove his shirt while he worked. A decision Dean silently praised as he watched the sweat glistening on his brother’s back. The way his muscles moved along his shoulders and arms as he dug. Shoveling exactly six feet down to the old wooden casket.

Damn. All this grave digging they were doing was really toning up his ‘baby’ brother’s upper body. Sam hadn’t always been so toned. In fact, as a teenager he’d been rather tall and skinny, but now... Most guys would kill for a physique like Sam’s. Spending all day in the gym, hundreds of dollars on personal trainers and shit and not getting results nearly as good.

And Sammy was all his.

Dean almost giggled to himself, he didn’t of course because giggling was for girls, but that didn’t stop him from smirking. Getting a mental image of him and Sam on one of those late night infomercial specials, like for that crappy Total Gym thing he sometimes saw on late night television. He imagined Sam standing next to him with a shovel in each hand, smiling, bare-chest, and showing off his physeque while Dean spouted cheesy lines like;

“Yes, you can have a body like this too in just eight weeks! Only $19.95 while supplies last. But wait, there’s more, we’ll throw in this lighter fluid and saltshaker to take care of all those nasty restless spirits that are bothering you absolutely free...”

OK, so maybe he’d given this way too much thought, but he didn’t have anything else to do at the moment besides oogle Sam. So it was either that or think very naughty thoughts while he watched his brother dig. Counting each bead of sweat trailing its way down his brother’s spine to waistband of his jeans where they disappeared. Admiring the tantalizing shadows peaking just beneath the waistband of those jeans when Sam bent over.

Dean adjusted his own jeans, the tight denim having grown a little uncomfortable in the last few minutes.

Finally Sammy hit pay dirt, pried open the old wooden casket, and started climbing out of the hole. Thankfully at least this one was an old grave, little more than bones and dust remaining of the body at this point. Dean much preferred those to the ‘fresh’ ones. There wasn’t a much worse smell than that, and he swore the scent would hang around them for days after no matter how many showers he took. Sammy said it was just in his head, and his brother was probably right. Dean didn’t honestly think he’d collect nearly as many pretty girls phone numbers if he smelled like rotting and burning bodies all the time.

Sam did the salting and dousing and the body went up like dry kindling. He and Sam stood by the grave watching it burn, making sure everything was reduced to ash before they would cover it back up like they'd never been there.

“Want me to go get the marshmallows?” Dean joked, giving his brother a playful grin and nudge that Sam completely ignored except for a slight flinch and tightening of his lips. Dean raised an eyebrow, but he wasn’t all that put off by the younger man’s silence. So Sam was still in a pissy mood and giving him the silent treatment. It had been going on for about a week or so now, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sammy was often pissed off at him for some reason or another. He swore Sam had worse PMS than any girl he'd ever met.

Dean couldn't even remember why Sam was pissed this time, which wasn't all that out of the ordinary either. He wasn’t worried though, whatever it was, Sammy would get over it. He always did. And if he didn't, Dean would make it up to him. Or throw him down on the bed and completely ravage him making him completely forget about being mad in the first place. Most likely he’d do both.

Finally the fire burnt itself out and they returned to the impala stowing away the gear in the back. And because he was such a great brother, Dean let Sam drive back to the motel and even gave him first dibs on the shower. Of course not without reminding Sam just what a great older brother he was for doing so first.


***


Dean slid in underneath the covers of the bed already made warm by the younger man’s body heat. Sam was already sleeping, but that did not stop Dean from scooting in close to spoon himself against Sam’s bare back. Burying his nose into the still damp hair at the base of his brother’s neck causing younger man to shiver slightly and moan softly in his sleep.

Dean smiled.

For the first time in his life he could say he was genuinely happy. Ever since that night, when everything changed. When his and Sam's relationship changed. Became more. For so long he'd thought he was a freak. He loved his brother for as long as he could remember. More than anyone. More than anything. Sam was his whole life. He needed Sam like he needed air. When Sam had left the first time, it had felt like something had torn out his heart and left him bleeding the entire time he was away. He'd thought the real reason Sam had left, escaped to college was to get away from him, not their dad, not hunting. Because Sam had figured out that Dean loved him more than a brother ever should. That he desired him in ways no brother should.

When Sam had agreed to come back, to help him find Dad, to hunt, it had been both the happiest and gut wrenching moments of his life. He would never have wished anything bad on that girl, but he knew if she hadn't died, Sam would not have come back to him. It had been hell watching Sam mourn for his girlfriend, the guilt he felt for being just a little bit glad she was gone, wasn't between them anymore, and every day he'd been afraid that Sam would find out and leave him again. Terrified Sam would find out just how much a freak he was, and he'd never see his brother again.

But that was over now. He didn't have to be afraid anymore.

Nuzzling against his brother’s soft warm flesh, Dean slid his arms around the younger man. Lightly licking and biting the soft skin behind his ear. His fingers caressing up and down the soft skin of his chest, circling a nipple and trailing lower. Slowly tracing the lines of the younger man’s well defined muscles before slipping a hand underneath the waistband of Sam’s boxers. His brother moaning again sweetly and pushing back against him in response. Dean responded by shifting his hips forward, rubbing his erection between the warm cloth covered cheeks of his brother’s ass.

“Dean...” Sam moaned his name, still more asleep than awake and Dean felt himself growing even harder at the sound. Jesus, Sammy could turn him on so fast it wasn’t even funny. Just a look was sometimes all it took. The right glance from beneath those too long girly eyelashes, and the older man would be growing wood in seconds.

Sometimes it was damn frustrating. When watching anything his brother did could turn him on. When even the most innocent touches could sometimes make him burn with need. But he certainly wasn’t about to complain. Not at the way the younger man’s choked gasp as he closed his fingers around his brother’s equally hard cock made his own twitch. Certainly not at the way Sammy thrust into his closed fingers then pushed back, rubbing himself wantonly against his dick.

Dean worked the younger man’s boxers down to the middle of his thighs, getting them out of the way, and immediately the flesh on flesh contact made him groan. He stroked his brother faster, Sam’s own slick fluids easing the way. The sweat of their bodies making it easier for him to move. His cock welcomed snuggly between the crack of his brother’s ass.

Anything more unfortunately would have to wait for another night they weren’t so eager and needy because he could already feel his brother’s cock twitching before the younger man came with a whimpering moan that immediately set off his own orgasm. Covering his brother’s lower back and ass with his seed.

They lay panting together, arms and legs tangled, shivering from their release despite the warmth they’d generated beneath the covers. Dean purred contently, pressing soft kisses to the back of his brother’s neck while they waited for their heartbeats to slow down so they could get some sleep. At least Sammy wouldn’t be mad at him anymore come morning, Dean thought with no small amount of pride.

“I love you...” He whispered. Feeling one last pleasant shiver pass through the younger man’s body before he closed his eyes to sleep.


***


In the morning after Sammy got coffee they were on the road again.

Dean lounging comfortably in the passenger seat wearing his sunglasses while his brother drove. One of his favorite tapes playing in the tape deck, despite the ‘rule’ that driver got to pick the music and shotgun had to shut his cake hole.

Actually, he hadn’t had to argue with Sam at all about the music this time. Before Dean could even reach down into the box to look for what he wanted to listen to, Sam had beat him to it and popped it in. The elder Winchester certainly wasn’t going to complain and sat contently drumming his fingers against the door of the open window. Sometimes humming along or outright singing along with the music as the countryside sped by.

“So, where to next?” Dean asked after they’d been in the car for a few hours. Glancing at Sammy who was watching the road intently. He thought he saw an almost grimace pass quickly over the young man’s features before they smoothed out. It happened so quick Dean would have thought he imagined it except that Sammy didn’t answer him right away. His lips in a tight line.

Damn, his brother still couldn’t be pissed at him, could he? It was only then that Dean noticed just how... tense the younger man looked. His knuckles white on the steering wheel and there were dark circles underneath Sam’s eyes as though he hadn’t slept for a week. His eyes even looked a little red and puffy. As though he’d been... crying?

Maybe his brother wasn’t pissed? Was there something else wrong and Dean was only now noticing? The older man wanted to kick himself, and was just opening his mouth to ask if Sammy was ok? What was wrong? If he wanted to pull over and let Dean drive for a while? When Sam finally spoke.

“Bobby’s.” Just one word, calm and even, though he still didn’t look at Dean. He didn’t sound angry, just tired. As tired as he looked.

“Everything ok, Sammy?” Dean finally asked, and he was surprised when Sammy actually smiled. Not the reaction he was expecting. It was faint, and a little sad.

“Yea, Dean.”

Dean could tell Sam was lying out his ass and was far from fine, but he decided it would probably be best not to push him right now. After they met with Bobby, found a room for themselves, he’d make sure Sam ate, slept, took care of himself. Then once Sam was feeling better he’d make his stubborn brother tell him what was really wrong.


***


Driving to Bobby’s didn’t take long thankfully. They hadn’t been that far away on their last job, and Dean was glad for it. The silence in the car, aside from the blaring radio, was rather deafening and the older Winchester wasn’t sure how much of it he could take.

Bobby greeted Sam as soon as they drove up. Walking right up to the younger man as Sam got out of the car, giving his brother a tight hug, and ushering him quickly inside. Dean simply stood stunned next to the car for a few moments. The oddness of it, the way Bobby didn’t even glance in his direction, hitting him hard. Just what the hell was going on? Whatever it was, Bobby already seemed to know whatever it was that was bothering Sam. The fact that Sam had obviously already told Bobby, but not him, left a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was like Sam didn’t trust him or something...

Dean wasn’t sure how long he stayed outside, stunned that neither man had even noticed his absence, before finally following them inside. They were sitting in the living room, Sam holding a cup in a shaking hand, his head hanging low while Bobby sat in the chair beside the old couch. Looking concerned and a little agitated. The older Winchester stood quietly in the doorway, still unnoticed. His heart aching how... lost and helpless his brother looked. Apparently he’d walked in on a very serious discussion.

“He doesn’t even know. How can...” Sammy was saying before taking a drink from his cup that Dean suspected contained something a little stronger than diet soda.

“Sam...” Bobby sighed. “You know sometimes that’s just the way it is. They’re confused. Sometimes its the shock of crossing over. Its traumatic. Spirits can only see what they want to see...”

Dean was even more confused now. What the hell was Bobby talking about? It sounded like they were talking about a job, but the look on his brother’s face...

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying not to sound angry or worried but it was hard not to. He couldn’t help being protective of Sam, it was just in his nature. An instinct more natural than breathing. All he knew right now was that Sam was hurting, and he wanted to put a stop to it. Whatever it was, he would try to make it right.

Sam actually jumped a little at the sound of his voice and Bobby froze, watching Sam carefully. Their eyes locking. Some silent communication passing between them, before Sam finally spoke.

“Nothing is wrong, Dean. Just talking to Bobby about a new job.” Sam said, though he took another drink as though to keep from looking at his brother. Dean couldn’t even read the expression on Bobby’s face right now.

Dean couldn’t help being confused, and more than a bit hurt. Obviously they hadn’t been talking about a new job all this time. He knew something else was wrong, Sam just wasn’t telling him. What were they really talking about? What did Sam have to talk to Bobby about that his brother couldn’t say to him? The hurt he felt at Sam’s lack of faith in him went away however when Sam finally looked at him, his eyes almost pleading and Dean nodded in understanding. They’d talk about it later.

The elder Winchester sighed and took a seat beside his brother. All three men remaining silent for a few minutes. Bobby watching Sam intently before Dean finally cleared his throat and asked, “So, what kind of job?” Trying to move them past this rather unusual awkwardness.

Sam hesitated a moment before answering.

“It’s a restless spirit...” Sam finally said, looking back down at the drink in his hands as though it would offer him all the answers to the universe if he just stared at it hard enough. Dean nodded carefully, still not quite understanding why talking about this job seemed so difficult for Sam.

“He’s not hurting anyone, Bobby...” Sam finally blurted out and Dean finally thought he understood. A little at least. Sammy was just too sensitive for his own good sometimes. He got too emotional when dealing with certain things, and Dean could kind of see the point. If the spirit wasn’t causing any trouble, wasn’t hurting anyone, just wanted to hang around, then why send it packing? He didn’t want to point out the obvious to his younger brother that just because the spirit wasn’t violent now doesn’t mean it couldn’t become that way in the future. Not to mention that with time spirits only grew stronger, the longer they waited the more difficult it could be to get rid of later if it did start hurting people.

Bobby answered for him however.

“He still deserves to be at rest, Sam. You know that...” Bobby said gently, laying a hand on Sam’s knee and patting it. Instead of comforting the younger man Sam looked like his pet dog just died. Dean put an arm around Sam’s shoulders and though the younger man shivered slightly under the touch he allowed it to remain. Bobby said nothing.

Dean was starting to suspect that this job might be a little more personal to Sam than he was saying. For starters, Sammy and Bobby kept saying ‘he’ instead of ‘it’. Like they already knew who the spirit was. Was this restless spirit someone Sam knew? Or had known. Maybe one of his friends from college?

Actually, that would explain a lot. It would explain Sam’s mood, and the reluctance he was having regarding taking care of the spirit. So he had come here for advice from Bobby. Yeah, that made sense. That must be it. He wished Sam would have just told him though. He knew he gave his brother a hard time sometimes about ‘no chick-flick moments’ but this was different... He’d have to talk with Sam later, make sure the younger man understood he would always be there for him no matter what. He could tell him anything...

Bobby apparently decided it was time to get down to business.

“So, the body?”

“Cremated.” Sam replied. A little shakily. Bobby and Dean both nodded, though Dean inwardly groaned. Great, so it was going to be a scavenger hunt.

“Alright... any idea what might be keeping him here?” Bobby asked and Sam shook his head. Dean sat there wishing he could be a little more helpful but since he didn’t even know WHO had died that was pretty difficult.

“... the car... maybe?” Bobby suggested and Dean inwardly groaned. Oh no, not another one of those. They wouldn’t have to try to burn a damn car again, would they? What a pain in the ass spirit. Though Dean couldn’t help but kind of respect whoever this spirit was, if in fact it was his car that was keeping him tied to this earth after death. That was something Dean could relate to, at least. He’d already joked with Sam once, a little tastelessly perhaps, about coming back to haunt the younger man if Sam let anything happen to his car.

Sam’s head shot up so fast at Bobby’s suggestion it was almost comical. At least it would have been if not for the expression on Sam’s face. Partly the ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look that Dean knew quite well, and partly a ‘don’t-even-go-there’ glare that the older Winchester also knew well, though he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen it with quite so much venom behind it before.

Bobby held up his hands, his expression as placating as Dean had ever seen it.

“You’re right, probably unlikely.” Bobby said, though he didn’t sound convinced, then the room descended into an awkward silence again. It was a few minutes before Bobby spoke again. Rising from his chair at the same time to walk over to one of his massive overflowing bookshelves.

“Well, there are some rituals we can try. One that both summons a spirit and attempts to lay it to rest. That might be the... easiest way to do it.” Bobby said as he selected a book and flipped to a certain page in it before coming back over to him and Sam and handing it to the younger man. Sam almost reluctantly setting down his drink in order to take the book and look it over.

Dean looked over Sam’s shoulder, reading along with him and whistled at the complex ritual the book described. Bobby thought this was going to be easy? Though a lot of the difficulty was just in the set up, the ingredients needed, symbols drawn, time of day... and they needed something personal from the deceased. The rest was all chanting, lots and lots of chanting. But it seemed like it would do the job. Summoning the specific spirit, and then urging it rather gently to ‘cross over’.

The older Winchester looked to his brother, waiting for his opinion before saying anything. Sam seemed to read the ritual over a couple more times before finally nodding in agreement. Handing the book back over to Bobby.

“All right then. I’ll start gathering up the stuff we’ll need. I know a guy who can get us some of the rarer ingredients. We might even be able to do it tonight if everything goes right.” Bobby said and then he left the room. Leaving Sam and Dean sitting alone together on the couch. Bobby hadn’t asked for help, and Dean didn’t offer. He wasn’t about to leave Sammy alone when he was obviously so upset.

They stayed that way all day. Dean with his arm around Sam’s shoulders. His brother agitated and fidgety at first but eventually exhaustion won out. Now Sam was leaning against him, having fallen asleep at some point, which Dean certainly didn’t mind. His brother obviously needed the rest. It was well past dusk before Bobby returned and Dean shook his brother gently awake. Sam started a little, looking at him first, then to Bobby.

“Everything is ready, Sam.” Bobby said gently.

Sam took a deep breath, looking to Dean as though for encouragement or support and the elder Winchester smiled a little. Nodding. It was all Sam needed apparently as he looked away again and stood.


***


They took separate cars to the site Bobby had chosen for the ritual. He and Sam in the impala and Bobby in one of his trucks. The back filled with everything they would need.

They drove to an old abandoned church about ten miles away, up a few back roads. The roof was almost completely caved in, but all the walls still stood. The floorboards groaned loudly under their feet, and small rodents hid at their approach, having been using the church for a home for years now. But it was still holy ground and it was completely isolated. No one around for miles. No one would interrupt them.

Dean whistled, more than a little impressed with what Bobby had managed to come up with in the relatively short span of time he had to work with. There was an alter already set up in the middle of the church. Candles. Lots of candles and large intricate chalk runes, a circle of symbols drawn around the alter where the ritual would take place. Dean could smell several different kinds of herbs used in purification burning, along with incense. More candles... and the full moon was shining through the massive whole in the roof of the church.

Perfect.

All they really needed was a few black robes and hoods to make the picture complete. He almost said so, but Dean sure as hell wasn’t about to start cracking any jokes now. Not when it seemed like Sam was barely holding it together. Maybe Bobby couldn’t tell, but Dean knew Sammy too well. Just in the way the younger man kept looking towards him, as though to make sure he was still there. That Dean hadn’t simply disappeared while Bobby went over again what it would take to complete the ritual.

Dean stood next to his brother, silently supportive as Bobby went over the details of the ritual one last time. Stressing on the chant that Sam and Bobby would have to perform. Apparently Dean wasn’t going to have any lines, nor was he expected to do anything but watch. But that was ok with him, that way he could fully focus on his brother, make sure he was all right, and be ready in case anything went wrong.

Wrong as in the spirit they were trying to make move on decided to become violent after all. Many spirits didn't like to be told to pack it up and leave, no matter how nice you asked them to. So Dean found a place to lean up against one old rickety wall and waited. Watching Sam place something in the center of the alter. Listening as first Bobby began the chants and Sam joined in. The younger man almost hesitantly at first. Still glancing at Dean every once in a while, but soon Sam’s words fell into sync with the older man’s and the almost musical Latin verses filled abandoned church.

It was rather calming.

Though not something Dean would want to stick in the cassette player in the impala while he drove. He’d stick to his mullet rock, as Sam put it, thanks very much. But it wasn’t bad either. Maybe it was just listening to the sound of Sam’s voice that was so calming. Whatever it was, Dean didn’t really mind the chanting, and after a while, when nothing bad happened, no pissed off spirits began manifesting themselves, Dean allowed himself to relax a bit more while he watched.

Letting his attention drift every now and again. Though never for very long. If he allowed himself he could go to sleep right now. Dean was surprised just how tired he felt. But he never let his eyes close. His gaze always returning to his brother. His eyes locking with Sammy’s, offering his brother a reassuring and encouraging smile. The younger man watching him, though his words never faltered. A continuous stream, verse after verse, every word perfect, just as their dad had taught them.

Dean had lost track of how long the ritual went on, but by the time Bobby and Sam stopped chanting the sun was already beginning to lighten the sky to the east. The chanting had become almost like a white background noise by that point, and the sudden silence was almost deafening to Dean. Damn, Sam was going to be hoarse tomorrow from all that Latin.

The elder Winchester straightened from his slouched position against the wall. Stretching his arms over his head with a loud yawn before making his way over to the two men still standing next to the alter unmoving. They seemed to be waiting for something, so Dean didn’t approach too close. Staying outside the chalk rings just to make sure he didn’t screw up the whole thing somehow.

“Is he gone, Sam?” Bobby finally asked, and Dean wasn’t the least surprised by how rough his voice sounded. He winced a little in sympathy, and was glad that he hadn’t had to take part in the all night chanting.

“Yes...” The younger man said after a few moments, his voice just as rough as Bobby’s and barely above a whisper. Dean winced again, and made a mental note to make sure that Sammy drank plenty of fluids and didn’t talk to much for the next day or two to give his throat a rest.

“Are you sure?” Bobby asked again, and Dean was a little annoyed, but only a little. Bobby always wanted to be thorough, and he couldn’t fault the man for being so. Dean had to admit he was a little disappointed at the anti-climactic ending to the ritual. After all that, not even a spark or a gust of wind blowing out the candles, or anything really to let them know if it was a success or failure. But if anyone would know if the spirit had indeed moved on it would be Sam. The younger man had, after all, sensed those spirits in their old house even when Missouri couldn’t.

“Sammy?” Dean prompted as well, when Sam seemed to hesitate answering. He didn’t want to push the younger man, or sound impatient, but he was ready to get going now if it was indeed all over. Ready to get back in the impala with Sam and go somewhere they could be alone and he could finally talk to his brother about all this and take care of him properly.

“Yes, Bobby, I’m sure.” Sam finally said, lifting his eyes to meet Bobby’s and the older man seemed to accept the younger Winchester’s diagnosis. Mission accomplished. Another job well done, and all that. Dean put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders, not quite a hug, not in front of Bobby, but he kept his arm there. Letting his brother know without words that he was here for him and he wasn’t going anywhere, until Sam moved away on his own, helping Bobby in the clean up.


***


Dean waited in the car while Sam said his goodbye to Bobby.

Though the older man had offered to put them up for a few days, he was glad that Sam had declined. Telling Bobby he wanted to get back on the road. There was too much to do. Talking about another hunt up north he’d already found. Another restless spirit, this one a lot nastier than the last two they’d gotten rid of. This one very violent, it apparently liked pushing unsuspecting visitors to a library down stairs. There had already been one death so far, several injuries, and Sam and wanted to get there as soon as possible.

Sam was hugging Bobby now. Nodding to something the older man said that Dean couldn’t hear and receiving a pat on the shoulder from Bobby. Dean wasn’t much for hugs, at least not from anyone who wasn’t his brother, hence why he was waiting in the car. Trying not to feel impatient or resentful to Bobby because Sam had gone to him for help and not Dean first. Dean would make sure from now on that Sammy knew, without a doubt, that if he ever needed anything he was here. A shoulder to cry on, or whatever, he would be there for him. Dean was officially throwing out the no-chick-flick rule right here and now.

Finally Sam and Bobby parted and his brother joined him in the car. They both waved goodbye to Bobby and the older man waved back as they drove away. Heading north on the highway though they didn’t go very far. Dean insisted they stop driving after about an hour and get a motel room. He wasn’t going to let Sam keep driving all day after he’d been up all night doing that damn ritual. He could tell his brother was exhausted, his eyes barely focused as they watched the road and Sam wasn’t even trying to hide it.

At least Sam relented to his arguments with very little fuss and soon they had a room at just another in a long line of no-tell-motels. His brother disappearing into the bathroom immediately to take a shower while Dean lounged in the room’s only bed waiting for his brother to emerge.

He’d almost gone in with the younger man, wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared a shower, but he could tell Sammy needed a few minutes to himself. The past few days had obviously been hard for him. He just wished his brother had trusted him to help. All he could do was be here for Sam now, and he would be.


***


The door to the bathroom opened and he turned his eyes away from the television to Sam who stood in the doorway watching him. Wearing a motel towel around his waist but nothing else. His skin still a little damp from the shower, droplets of water trickling down his shoulders and stomach.

Dean didn’t bother to hide his appreciation as he rose from the bed and went over to his brother. Sam’s eyes never leaving him. The uncertainty in the younger man’s eyes almost broke his heart. What had Sam thought? That he would think less of him or something because he was upset about that restless spirit? Dean wasn’t sure how he’d feel if he had to salt and burn the body of a friend to get rid of their spirit, or something. He’d probably be just as broken up about it, and he could even understand Sammy’s reluctance to talk to him about it. He might not agree with it, but he understood.

The older Winchester sighed, and put his hands on his brother’s shoulders. Caressing the tense muscles a moment before his hands slipped up to cup the sides of Sam’s neck. He took a step closer, pulling Sam to him at the same time and the younger man did not resist. His lips met his brother’s, softly at first, but as Sam relaxed to his touch the kiss deepened. The younger man’s arms came up to wrap around him tightly. His lips parting to allow him inside and Dean wasted no time taking him up on the offer. His tongue dueling with Sam’s as the younger man clutched at him.

Never breaking their kiss or embrace, Dean walked them backwards towards the bed. Turning them around at the last minute and pushing Sam down to sit, then lay down on the mattress. Following the younger man down, their lips parting only when he had completely covered his brother’s body with his own.

He looked down at his brother, both of them panting. Still close enough he could feel the younger man’s breath against his lips. His own caught in his chest at the expression in Sam’s eyes. His brother looking up at him with so much NEED it was almost... scary...

“Sammy...” Dean breathed, but it was all he could manage before Sam pulled him down into another kiss, even more desperate than before. Dean returned it until his lips ached and only pulled away again when lack of air forced them apart.

Dean did not stop kissing his brother however. His lips caressing along the younger man’s jaw and down his neck. Sam’s fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Always closer. Tilting his head back with a moan so Dean could explore further down his throat. Licking over his collar bone and down the center of his chest. Dipping into his brother’s belly button, making the younger man arch and moan.

The towel wrapped around Sam’s waist was gone with a quick flick of his wrist, and Dean’s shirt followed soon after. He scooted down off the bed to kneel on the floor between his brother’s legs. Licking his lips and taking a moment to admire the beautiful sight Sammy made spread out wantonly before him. His brother’s cock hard and flushed resting against the firm planes of his stomach. Leaking a little at the tip. Sam opened his eyes to look at him, pleading, and that look burned Dean to the core.

The older man wasted no time taking his brother’s hard weeping flesh deep into his mouth, into his throat. Sam cried out his name, the sound almost pained, and arched completely off the bed. Driving his shaft even deeper down his older brother’s throat. Dean’s hands came up to settle on the younger man’s hips, steadying him, while his mouth worked. His lips sliding up and down his brother’s impressive length. His cheeks hollow as he sucked. Caressing the sensitive underside and around the crown with his tongue.

Dean could tell Sammy was close. The way the muscled thighs tensed beneath his hands. The taste of the younger man’s hot pre-come bathing his tongue as he swirled it around the head of his brother’s shaft. Flicking it in the slit. Hell, he was close as well and he hadn’t even taken off his fucking jeans yet. His erection painfully trapped in the tight denim. His boxers already soaked with his own fluids. But he didn’t want it to end like this. Tonight he wanted to give Sam everything.

The elder man released his brother’s shaft with a slick pop, hardening himself to Sam’s almost pained desperate cry of complaint when he did. Dean quickly unbuttoned and shoved his jeans down his hips to free himself, his cock springing out hot and slick while Sam watched his every movement.

“Oh, god, Dean...” Sammy whispered, reaching for Dean and pulling him down before the older man could move to get what they needed to ease the way.

“Sammy...” Dean tried to protest, but his brother wrapped his legs around his hips in an almost vice grip. Not letting him escape. Shaking his head.

“No, Dean. Like this, now, please.” He begged. Dean still hesitated, he had no wish to hurt his brother but... “Please!” Sam cried again, and Dean knew he could not deny the younger man. All he could do was slick himself as much as possible with his own and Sam’s fluids before he pressed himself against the entrance to his brother’s body. Slowly pushing inside.

Sam cried loudly, clutching at his shoulders and Dean almost stopped. He probably would have if Sam hadn’t suspected this and arched beneath him, tightening his legs around him and forcing Dean even deeper. Wringing a cry of pleasure from Dean before he could help himself.

Sam moaned, a sound of pleasure, not pain, and it was probably that sound more than anything that convinced Dean to continue. Burying himself completely in his brother’s body and drawing out slowly. Watching Sam’s expression carefully, but only seeing pleasure, need, and love. He filled his brother over and over. Their pace quickening into something desperate. Almost wild. Fingernails digging deep enough to draw blood in some places. Clutching at each other as though their lives depended upon it.

“Dean!” Sam cried his name out beneath him again, his whole body arching beneath the older man. His brother’s muscles tightening almost painfully around him as he felt the younger man’s release pulse between their bodies, slick and hot. It triggered his own orgasm, and he came with a groan, buried deep inside the younger man. Swallowing any further moans of pleasure from Sam’s lips in a deep kiss that never seemed to end. Tasting, devouring, each other again and again. Though each one seemed less desperate than the last. Until finally their lips only brushed lovingly light against one another.

Sam was practically boneless beneath Dean when he finally withdrew from the younger man’s body. His brother, obviously exhausted in more ways than one, offered no resistance as Dean arranged them both in a more comfortable position on the bed. Did not move as Dean reached over to turn off the light next to the bed before spooning up against his brother’s back. Sam letting out a soft sigh when Dean wrapped his arms tightly around him.

Dean decided any talking could wait until tomorrow, once his brother was more rested. Still...

“I’ll always be here for you, Sammy. I hope you realize that...” Dean whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his brother’s neck, nuzzling lovingly against him.

“I know, Dean...” Sam replied after a few heartbeats, his voice still sounded a little sad to Dean, but the helplessness of before was gone and Dean was satisfied. For now. Sam would be all right. Dean would make sure of it.

Dean closed his eyes to sleep, still holding Sam close to him. Sam remained awake a long time afterwards however. The lights from the cars driving past their motel room the only thing that illuminated the tracks of tears down his cheeks.

His fingers clutching tightly around the silver pendant he wore that had once belonged to his brother.




*End*





Warning: Character Death

I hate you, I had a huge knot in my throat throughout the whole thing.
Dean would be with Sam no matter what, he'd defy everything to be with him and make sure he'd be all right. I loved this and I thank you for writing it.
Excuse me I have to go indulge myself in pie now since that's the only thing that can cheer me up.

Thanks darlin

<hands over some chocolate pie with whip cream and cherries>