ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER: Every content, character, plot etc. that anyone is able to recognize as other's property is NOT mine. I have no intention to get into any trouble involving law and money.

AU, OOC. NO SLASH!

Hey, guys!

This is just something that's been in my head about Sam... It'll probably be weird... Nothing heartbreaking, I just always liked to picture Sam doing this.

I wrote this a couple months back. It's set in the Bunker-era, in some more peaceful times.

I hope you will enjoy it. On with the story!

Sam's Secret

The slam of the bunker's entrance door reverberated around the rooms, reaching the farthest point of the place.

"Sammy?!" followed a shout of Dean Winchester, as the man stomped down the steps, his duffel bag on his shoulder. When he reached the bottom, he paused, listening for his brother's reply, but only the silence greeted his arrival. "Sam!" he tried again, this time a little worry sneaking into his voice. He waited for a few seconds before slamming his bag onto the closest surface – the display of the world map. His hand blurred from the speed he pulled his gun out, keeping it lowered in front of him. He quickly jogged through the bunker, his steps landing on the tiles as light as feathers, even in his boots.

As soon as he stepped into his brother's bedroom, his green gaze scanned the table, hoping for some kind of sign about his brother's predicament. He froze at the piece of paper on the surface of the table.

Back soon!

Sam

Dean sighed, his head falling back as he closed his eyes. He put his gun away as he shook his head, huffing in frustration. He picked the paper up and turned it over, but he didn't find anything else on it.

"Yeah, love ya too, Sammy" he grumbled. He threw the paper back onto the table and marched out of the room. Just as he grabbed his duffel bag, the entrance screeched open then banged shut above his head. Dean watched as Sam hurried down the steps, a frown deepening on his brow at his little brother's hurried gait. "Well, look who's back!"

Sam's flinch was too prominent to be caused by Dean's annoyed, loud voice. Wide hazel-green eyes were a sign of one thing: Sam was doing something behind Dean's back. The older hunter's mouth thinned out, a dark pit appearing in his gut.

"Y-You're back early" Sam smiled, trying to look surprised and not piss-his-pants-terrified. "Is something wrong?"

"No" Dean crossed his arms and tilted his head, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "The guy met with someone else, so my help wasn't necessary anymore."

"So what? They just called to say "Sorry, change of plans"? Or are they still...?" Sam's voice tapered off, the usual guilt settling onto his features, darkening his gaze. Dean hated when he did that.

"They said they wouldn't mind if I joined them, but I declined" Dean shrugged, still observing his brother in a way that always made the younger man shift uncomfortably. "And where have you been?"

"Me?" Sam flinched again, and Dean now could see the sweat gathering on his little brother's forehead. That and the quick response alone was enough to see Sam was going to lie. "Just... looking."

"What?" Dean asked.

"I was just in the library looking for hunts."

This must be big: Dean had never seen so many of Sam's nervous ticks at once. Shifting eyes unable to look at him, sweating up a storm, fingers playing with each other, feet shuffling awkwardly causing Sam to rock to the sides, Adam's apple bobbing up and down with jittery swallows... What was Sam hiding from him? Again.

"Anything?" he asked.

"What?" Sam frowned, eyes flicking up at Dean momentarily, filled with confusion. "Any what?"

Wow, Sammy, way to blow your cover!

"Any hunts" Dean replied, unable to keep the patronizing tone out of his words. He hoped Sam would take it as him thinking his little brother was an idiot. Sam flushed a deep shade of red.

"No, none" Sam shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. Dean just noticed the exhaustion on Sam's face. "I think I'll go to sleep, then. G'night."

"'Night, Sammy" Dean watched as Sam hurried away, but when he disappeared around the corner, Dean swore he heard him humming something pretty jovially. He grabbed his duffel bag again and decided to retire, as well. Before he managed to sink into darkness, his mind spun around one question:

What was Sam hiding from him?

The next morning he found Sam already in the kitchen eating his breakfast, another plate opposite him waiting for Dean to consume. Before he stepped in, Dean frowned: Sam was swaying side to side to a rhythm going in his head, probably. As he observed this bizarre behavior, he caught snippets of the same melody Sam had been humming the night before emerging from his brother's lungs.

What the Hell was going on?

"Morning, Sammy" he greeted his brother as he continued his way to the table. Sam jumped and span around, the same deer-in-the-headlights look returning.

"Hey" This time Sam's smile was more genuine. "Made you breakfast."

Dean raised an eyebrow as he took his seat.

"You're awfully chipper" he commented as he tucked in. He moaned in pleasure, surprised by the fantastic taste of the pancakes.

"It happens sometimes" Sam shrugged with a wry smile. Dean huffed in agreement. He sometimes wished for the good old days, when the biggest thing they had to worry about was a demon. Yellow-eyed, but still...

Dean froze as his eyes landed on something peculiar: Sam's fingers. The fact that he was looking at Sam's hand was peculiar enough, but what it was doing was something else.

The fingers were pressing down on the table in a rhythm unknown to Dean, sometimes swaying side to side.

Dean looked up at his brother, indecisive about his next move. Sam, though, had his eyes closed and in a second he began his rocking to the sides, in a rhythm completely different than his fingers'.

"Sam?" he called and Sam opened his eyes.

"Hm?"

Dean glanced back at his brother's hand and knew Sam followed his gaze when the fingers stopped. Sam cleared his throat, curled his hand into a fist and quickly finished his meal.

"Do we need anything from the store?" There was a slight tremor in Sam's voice that Dean could hear even if he was deaf.

"Dunno" Dean shrugged. "You want me to go?"

"No, that's alright" Sam jumped to his feet, practically threw his dishes across the room and into the sink then left. Dean could only sit and listen as Sam "escaped" the bunker, so to speak.

The curiosity was killing him now. What was Sam hiding?

Maybe he should investigate...

Dean shook his head. Did he really have that little of trust towards his brother? It's true that they went through some shit, but still? He wanted to get over it and he thought he did... And one reminder of them drifting apart destroyed everything he worked for. He sighed, wiping at his face tiredly.

Maybe he should just leave it alone and take a look at his baby.

He stood up and headed for the garage.

The sun was halfway towards the horizon as Dean drove through town. He had decided to shop around for supplies when he couldn't find Sam, again. Now that he truly thought about it, Sam had been secretive for a few days now. It was starting to worry him. This is what happened with the whole Ruby-fiasco. Was it happening again?

At this point, Dean would've been happy with anything else, even regular, human drug-dealers.

As he drove down past shops and traffic lights, his eyes landed on one display. It had musical instruments in the windows. He almost slid over it, if not for the familiar figure in the doorway, shaking hands and talking with a young man.

It was Sam.

Dean gaped at the satisfied, joyful grin on his brother's face as he listened to the other's words. The guy was no more than 20 years old, but he acted as if he knew Sam for years now. Sam was nodding along then clapped the guy's shoulder reassuringly. The guy smiled back and sighed, causing Sam to laugh. Then, just as Dean caught the lamp turning green and began to move, Sam leaned down and lifted a black case up, saying goodbye to the guy. Dean saw his brother whistling as he walked, probably back to the bunker.

The rest of the way home Dean went through the scene in his head over and over. One ray of hope shone down onto his soul: it was a music store. Did Sam buy an instrument? Did he want to learn to play one? It was leagues better than the nightmares in Dean's head.

Now, his curiosity stemmed from relief and innocent interest.

He just had to know what Sam was doing in town.

It couldn't be this easy.

A week later Dean found himself parked a couple buildings down the music store, waiting for Sam to arrive. He passed the time with tapping on the steering wheel, clicking his tongue in time with Stairway to Heaven and looking around.

He was still amazed how trouble-free his investigating was. He had checked out the music store yesterday and spoken to the guy about Sam. Apparently, his brother began frequenting this place a few months ago, once a week visits turning into 4-5 times a week. Dean must have shown his shock, because the guy asked if he would like to see what they were doing in here. He didn't even have the urge to act hesitant: he said 'yes' faster than to a porn-star asking for sex.

So, now he was waiting for Sam to arrive.

Who was just reaching the door of the store.

The moment the glass door shut, Dean jumped out of the car and ran to the back of the building. He turned the knob and easily slid through the back door. He heard voices, the guy, Kevin, and Sam chatting away merrily. As he snuck through the rows of instruments, he ran into a third guy who was reaching for a cello. Dean froze, scared that in his eagerness he got busted. The guy, a brunette as opposed to the blonde Kevin, just grinned at him, winked then turned around and left the storage as if nothing happened. Dean sighed in relief: Kevin must have warned the guy.

He peeked around the doorframe and found his brother with a couple more people, all next to or holding instruments. Sam opened up his case and took out a violin. Dean's eyes widened: in a way it made sense. Sam had lean fingers, perfect for playing the piano or – in this case – the violin. He just hoped they wouldn't embarrass his brother for being a beginner.

"The usual?" Sam asked the others, placing the violin under his chin.

"Yeah, just to ease the rust off of you" Kevin teased, causing everyone to laugh good-naturedly. Dean could practically feel the eye-roll as Sam's response. The others quieted down then Sam nodded at the girl with the acoustic guitar. As she started playing a sad, melancholic melody, Sam closed his eyes, his body swaying to the rhythm. The bow lifted up and rested on the strings, eager to move. Dean was lucky: his brother stood in a way that kept Dean hidden, but he could see everything.

Which is why his jaw dropped when Sam started playing.

His brother's eyes were shut, already lost in the waves of his music. Dean could only watch the fingers pressing down on the strings, just like they did on the table back in the bunker. Sam had a frown on his face, the only sign of concentration. Otherwise, his brother moved fluidly, confident in himself, like Dean had never seen him before, not even on a hunt.

What was even more baffling was the complexity of the song. At least for Dean. Judging by the movements, there was a lot of timing issues to pay attention to. However, Sam took those hurdles with such ease, Dean began wondering when Sam had started playing the violin.

The song ended by slowing down and Dean recognized another movement from that morning at the bunker's kitchen table: one finger pressing on a string, the hand shaking from side to side. Was Sam playing out this same melody on the tabletop?

As the violin silenced, the others clapped enthusiastically. Dean wanted to tell them to stop and shut up. They broke Sam's trance so abruptly that the kid tensed and blushed furiously. However, it vanished a second later, giving space to a huge, pleased smile and the slumping of the shoulders.

From then on, Dean couldn't move from his spot, completely entranced by the sight of his little brother's total transformation. There were many songs Sam had played, some most likely classic, but with an added passion from his brother that captured even Dean's attention, letting him enjoy music he would normally scoff at. The others now refrained from ever interrupting his brother's "concert", only joining in at the next, appropriate song, as if they knew the order Sam was playing them.

Dean had a hard time finding any outstanding moments of Sam's technique, but if he was forced to choose, he would pick the song with probably the fastest rhythm ever. Sam was the main violinist playing with another one in the background and was joined by two cello-players, giving a melancholic, almost gothic taste to the music. It sounded familiar to Dean but he had no idea where he could've heard it before.

But what stuck out the most was the sadness emanating from every note and instrument. All of them were depressed, heart-breaking at worst, and melancholic at best. Was that really how Sam was feeling? Dean couldn't feel any ounce of hope and that just tore him to shreds.

The sky outside was turning dark when Sam began another song that was at least one Dean knew. The older Winchester never admitted to anyone that he had listened to Vivaldi when he was younger. So he easily recognized his favorite movement of the Winter set, the 3rd one. Even though they were short by a few people to actually make it sound the same, it was just like sitting on a concert, the quality of the music was so perfect.

The song ended in its usual abruptness, leaving Dean's jaw in the dust at the speed Sam's arm moved. Even a couple of the others had a little trouble keeping up, judging by some of the grimaces that flitted past their features. Dean hadn't noticed any actual mistakes in the others' parts, so they either made an error so miniscule that no one, outside of professionals, could notice it or they were struggling to keep up with Sam and just barely managing it.

Silence settled onto the store as the bow parted with the strings and Sam lowered his hand. Dean could now hear his brother gasping for air and his brown locks stuck to his sweaty cheeks. After a minute, the gasps eased up and Dean heard what he never wanted to hear ever again: Sam sniffed and as Kevin jumped up to hug him gently, he began to sob softly.

"It's okay, Sam" Kevin murmured. "It's over, you're back."

The girl at the piano stood to take Sam's violin, tenderly placing it in the black case. Everyone else stood up and joined in on the hug, comforting Sam like Dean wanted to right now.

Kevin glanced up, right into Dean's eyes and motioned him over, just as the others stepped back. Dean, unable to resist, walked up to the group and wordlessly accepted his little brother's weight. As soon as Sam's arms wrapped around him like a vice, Dean returned it just as fervently, letting his hand stray to its usual place: buried into Sam's sweat-damp hair.

"D-De'...?" Sam gasped.

"Shshshh, Sammy, just let it out..."

Everyone except Kevin filed out of the store, softly saying goodbye to each other. Kevin disappeared in the storage area in, what Dean thought, a purposeful haste. He should buy this guy a beer.

It took minutes for Sam to come out of his emotional whirlwind. When he straightened up, wiping at his damp cheeks with wildly shivering fingers, Dean restrained a gasp of realization. This was the exhaustion he had seen on his brother's face lately.

"You alright, Sammy?"

Sam nodded, but Dean could hear his teeth chattering from his shivers. He quickly fetched Sam's jacket and wrapped it around his brother.

"Thanks" Sam's soft whisper spoke more than just about the jacket.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean asked but forgot to wait for an answer. "Since when have you been playing the violin? How come I haven't noticed? And what was all this about?"

"Dean" Sam lifted a hand to stop Dean's tidal-wave. "I've been playing since high school. I've had the chance to practice in Stanford then I usually snuck away to an empty field or something just to play."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean repeated and got a huff of laughter for it.

"I wanted to but..." Sam sighed, raking his fingers through his damp locks. "This is something I need. And usually I'm a wreck and I didn't want you to worry unnecessarily-"

"Unnecessarily?" Dean repeated incredulously. "Sammy, just look at yourself."

"That's why I didn't tell you" Sam explained again. "I'm okay. I play to let go of my emotions and thoughts, even if it's just for a little while. It's a messy process for me. Kinda like sweating out all the toxins by working out. But I feel so much better after that. The others were worried, as well, but when I explained it to them, they understood. More than anyone. Since then we get together after closing and have a session, just for us."

"Like therapy?" Dean asked, starting to see the outlines of the situation. Sam frowned then smiled.

"Yeah" he nodded. "And tonight was my turn."

"Which is why I snuck you in on this night." Kevin's voice came from behind them. Sam grinned at the guy and Dean blushed slightly. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to close up shop."

The brothers nodded and Sam grabbed his violin case so they could leave.

"Where did you get these songs?" Dean asked curiously as they made their way to the Impala. "Some of them sounded familiar." He was surprised to see Sam grimace in discomfort.

"They're all songs whose sheet music I could find" the younger man shrugged. "They were pretty easy to learn for the guys."

"But you don't like them."

"No, I do. It's just..." Sam leaned onto the top of the Impala with a sigh, threading his fingers together. "They're not what I usually play when I'm alone."

"What do you play?"

"Some random melody that's in my head at the time. It's usually hectic, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one appreciating it, but I feel free when I play randomly rather than some pre-composed stuff from the internet." This revelation left behind a sort of stunned silence.

"You know" Dean spoke suddenly, "you can play in the bunker, too. There's no need to hide this from me. That place was always supposed to be a zone where we could be ourselves. Don't let my presence stop you from letting yourself go."

"Thanks, De'" Sam replied and Dean could see his brother's gratitude in the hazel-green eyes.

The next morning Dean woke to the sound of the violin echoing down the hall. He smiled as he spent many minutes just listening to the melancholic, yet much happier notes filling up the silent, empty bunker.

The End

Well, that's it.

The first music Sam plays is called Kirac - Binbir Gece Jenerik Keman, and the next one mentioned is the theme song of Castlevania. You can find it on Youtube: Castlevania - Bloody Tears :: String Version complete

The movement mentioned from Vivaldi is my all time favorite from Four Seasons.

Music is a huge part of my life. I can't play any instruments, but just listening to it keeps my soul elated and satisfied. I would be miserable without it...

Anyway, see you at my other stories, and I hope you enjoyed this little stroll! :)