Sam slid into the Impala. There had been something creepy about seeing his and Dean's lives portrayed on a stage as though it was the brainchild of some fantasy writer.

The books were bad enough but at least the cover art had been way off, depicting himself and Dean as two bare-chested Fabio look-alikes swinging outsized axes, but this performance had come pretty close to the cut, the characters much more similar to the real-life Winchesters, their family and friends.

He felt calmer when the heavy doors of the Impala creaked shut, closing him and Dean inside.
The car was home, a safe hideaway from the weirdness of their existence, Sam might not make as big a fuss over the black car as his sibling did but he loved her as much as Dean.
She'd been the only link to his big brother for the many months he'd found himself alone, from the Trickster's cruel pranks though to Purgatory

:
When Dean yanked the stage copy of the Amulet from his pocket and hung it on the rear-view mirror, then turned his eyes to meet his, Sam didn't need to hear the words to understand.
Regardless of what Dean had said to the kid in the theater, that he didn't need a symbol to remind him how he felt about his brother, Sam knew Dean regretted throwing the amulet away, especially when he'd understood the duplicity of the angels during their trip to heaven.
By hanging the false amulet in the Impala he was asking his little brother's forgiveness.

Sam held Dean's gaze, giving him that forgiveness, and reassuring his big brother that whatever crap was thrown at them, nothing could keep them apart.
Dean studied his littler brother's beloved face for a moment, then dropped his eyes, satisfied.

Sam's lips curled up in a warm smile. He gazed back fondly at his brother.
Soon maybe, he'd find the courage to offer Dean the original amulet he'd promptly fished out of the trash can, unwilling to envisage it discarded amidst the refuse on some shitty rubbish heap.

But it wasn't an urgent issue.
If and when he felt the time was right, he'd wrap it in newspaper like he'd done when he was nine all those years ago, and give it to Dean for Christmas.

:

He was so caught up in his memories that he almost missed the shadow of a familiar figure entering the school's auditorium.
Dean was already beginning to exit the parking lot when Sam clapped an urgent hand on his arm.
"Dean! Wait!"

"What the f…!" Dean cursed, pressing the brake.

""Come on!" Sam said animatedly, pushing open the door and heading for the building, leaving Dean to stare after him in bewilderment.

But Sam didn't act without a reason, so Dean turned his baby's engine off and followed his brother.
"Sam?" Dean quickly caught up with him, fisting his jacket.

"Look Dean. I bet HE's someone you never expected to see again!"
From the hall of the theater, Dean could only glimpse the rear view of the person who was talking to Marie, but there was no mistaking him.
"Chuck," he hissed.
"Yeah," Sam growled. "When I get my hands on him I'm gonna strangle the little douche."

Dean smirked but kept a restraining hand on Sam. "I hear you little brother, but first he has some explaining to do."

"He told me he wouldn't be writing any more books, but he lied knowing he was lying!" Sam exclaimed angrily.

:

Sam remembered Chuck surrendering to his threat of 'coming with guns' if the prophet wrote any more books, but 'Carver Edlund' hadn't kept his word, and now not only were the intimate secrets of the brothers' lives easily accessible on internet, but teenage girls who still had the snot dripping from their noses felt authorized to produce school plays about himself and Dean, reducing their lives and suffering to a musical soap-opera.

Sam understood that the teens believed the story was only a fantasy.
The true blame lay on the man who was talking to Marie, and obviously telling her what she wanted to hear, as the smile illuminating the girl's face gave ample testimony.

:

"I wonder what crap he's selling her?" Dean said, annoyed that he couldn't hear the exchange of words.

Sam rolled his eyes.
"I think you're looking at this from the wrong perspective, Dean.
I'd say the fact that he disappeared off the face of the Earth for years just to suddenly turn up in a high-school where they're using his books as a basis for their little drama, is the issue here!"

"That's my geeky college boy! Always asking the pertinent questions," his big brother smirked.
"Jerk!"
"Bitch!"

:

"Come on," Sam urged seeing Chuck turn towards them. "Let's go. We'll grab him as soon as he exits the hall."

"Well, lookee, lookee! Long time no see! "
Dean smiled wolfishly, an arm snapping like a vise around Chuck's neck, pulling the smaller man into the shadows.
He pushed his captive's back against the wall, keeping his fore-arm pressed on his throat.

"Dean!" Chuck gasped through the pressure on his wind-pipe. "And Sam," he added as the taller Winchester came to stand shoulder to shoulder beside his elder brother.

"He's all yours Sammy. I'll hold him down for you."

Sam didn't have to make much of an effort to school his features into a fearsome scowl. He was truly angry.
This little man had been privy to their deepest thoughts and feelings, and all he'd done was feed the Winchesters' lives to the dogs.

Granted at first Chuck hadn't known he was fantasizing about real people, but even when he'd found out he'd continued blithely on despite Sam's veto!
San felt deeply hurt, for himself and for his brother.

:
"What have you to say for yourself?" he growled menacingly, gratified when Chuck flinched.

"I , uh…"

"You kept on writing about us even after you said you'd stop. You're a douche!"
Sam's hands clenched into fists.
"Calm down there, little brother," Dean hushed. "He's not going to be able to explain himself if you clock him one with those ginormous paws of yours."
Chuck squirmed ineffectually under Dean's steely hold. "But, man. You'd better come up with something believable or I'll let Sammy loose on you!"

:
"Listen. I uh…kept getting visions even after Stull so I wrote them down. I didn't mean to publish them," Chuck pleaded.

He looked warily up at Sam whose anger was simmering clearly on the expressive features, and gulped before continuing.
"But I kinda went through a 'delicate' moment, money-wise, that is, and so I gave them to a publisher.
It seems the Supernatural books had become popular and she was more than happy to have new stuff. I didn't think you guys would mind.
I mean you're back together now aren't you? All the bad stuff is in the past. Just like history!"

"History, huh?" Dean grunted pulling up the sleeve of his jacket. "You know what this is don't you?"

Chuck's cheeks paled. "Maybe…!"

"Maybe," Dean mocked. "Well, just in case there's any doubt, it's the Mark of Cain and it likes fresh blood as an appetizer and dead bodies as the main course. You might just fit the profile down to a tee!"

"You say you kept getting visions. Who fed them to you?" Sam chipped in.

"I dunno. I didn't ask for them. They just kept coming."

"Well, poor you! " Dean said unsympathetically. "How come you're even alive. I thought a new prophet appeared only when the previous one died?"
"How should I know," Chuck shrugged. "Maybe the rules were changed."

Dean removed his arm from his captive's neck and placed it on his chest, still keeping him pinned to the wall.
"Okay. What were you doing here anyway?"

"I saw the school was putting on a play based on my books..."

"And you knew how? " Sam asked.

"This Marie girl kept filling the publisher's site with e-mails and the editor passed them onto me, so I thought I'd come along and see the show. That's all!"

Dean glared at him suspiciously.
"Why do I think you're not telling us everything?"

:

"Because he's not," Sam added.
"You know what I think, Chuck? I think you came to see how the 'story' looks on stage and how a live audience would react.
In that weird alternate reality we were sent to, our lives were played by two actors who looked exactly like us but were so douchey that they didn't even talk to each other….."

"Don't forget one of them married Ruby," Dean interrupted, getting a sour bitch-face from his little brother in return. "Just saying, man," he grinned, remembering his brother's alter ego's McMansion, alpaca and outsized tanning bed!

Sam glared at him, rolled his eyes, turned back to Chuck and continued.
"…..so I'm thinking maybe you've had an offer from some producer to turn the books into a TV show. How am I doin'?"

The guilty expression on Chuck's face gave him all the answers he needed.
"Sam, you're looking at this the wrong way. The books are out there anyway, they're getting ever more popular and a TV show is gonna happen sooner or later. At least as the author I can supervise, keep things true to fact. You know, like the TV version of "Game of Thrones."

:

Dean loomed threateningly over him..
"You son of a bitch!
You're gonna make money on the backs of our suffering. I've a good mind to snap your scrawny neck right now.

The only reason I won't is that I promised Sammy I'd never give into the Mark and killing you, though the idea is making my blood flow fast and furious with joyous anticipation, wouldn't please my baby brother.

We can't stop you from doing a TV show of our lives; if our threats back then weren't sufficient to stop you publishing more books, they're not gonna stop your new venture.
But I can still hurt you badly without killing you. You DO remember how I was Alastair's star pupil in Hell, don't you? I can cause you so much pain…!"

Chuck's face paled to a cadaveric shade of white.

:

"Just a little foot note to send you on your way," Dean smirked. "You think you know everything about us, don't you? But I bet you'd never put this into your crappy books or on your TV show."

Keeping one hand squarely against Chuck's chest, he cupped Sam's neck with the other and pulled his head down towards his own.
He placed his lips on Sam's, sensing the astonishment from his little brother at his actions.

" Play along, " he whispered into Sam's half-opened mouth.

Sam's lips curved in a half-smile before bringing his big hands up to cup his brother's face.
He quickly understood where Dean was coming from. He'd read the posts on-line back then about'wincest'.
His big brother was simply trying to shock Chuck by doing something that had never been written in the books.

But when their lips met, Sam completely forgot he was supposed to be baiting Chuck, and found his body concentrating on the strange sensations his brother's mouth on his own were causing.
Surprisingly, he didn't want to draw back, didn't want to end the kiss even though it was only a virginal meeting of lips.

:

When Dean moved away after Sam dropped his hands, they stared at each other, both sets of green- hued eyes confused.
Dean telegraphed 'What the hell just happened?' and Sam's eyes answered " I….don't know.'

A cough from the onlooker broke their trance.
Chuck was staring at them, shocked!
"Uh…You two are like 'together'? So Becky was right!"

Sam went to deny it, but Dean elbowed him.

"Yeah, we are! Full frontal Wincest! So put that in your crappy TV show!" he said disgustedly, leaving the smaller man free.

"Write the fuck you want. Me and Sam don't follow any rules. We do whatever we want. We're Winchesters. Rules don't apply to us.
We've been to heaven, hell and purgatory. We've died more times than I can remember though I'm sure Sammy can quote you every one of my hundred deaths in Broward County. He's obsessive that way!
Sammy averted the freakin' Apocalypse by sacrificing himself for mankind, so if we want to fuck each other we will. Capische!.
Now get out of my sight before I let the Mark of Cain loose on you."

:

Chuck gulped and made off down the drive.
Sam and Dean stood shoulder to shoulder watching him go.

"Good riddance! " Dean said. "Come on Sam, let's get the hell away from here."

Sam followed silently, getting into the car.
"Uh.. Dean. I .. Umm...I... think we've gotta talk about this."

"About what?"

"About what happened back there. About you kissing me."

"What's there to talk about? I wanted to give douchey a little something extra to write about, is all."

"Yeah…but…. I.. When it happened…... I …..Never mind," Sam said, looking away, embarrassed. " I don't know what I'm trying to say."

Dean stared at him, considering.
He cupped a hand beneath Sam's chin, turning his face back towards him.
"You mean this?"

:

He snaked his hand behind Sam's neck, keeping him still, then softly traced his baby brother's lips with the tip of his tongue, sending shivers dancing down Sam's spine.

"Or this?"
Dean's mouth came possessively down on Sam's, asking permission. A rush of emotion filled Sam, as he tottered on the brink of denial or acceptance.

He parted his lips letting Dean in and his big brother's tongue began its exploration of his mouth, delivering sensations Sam had never felt before.
Dean was kissing him, their bodies joined in the most intimate of acts. Perhaps the most intimate of them all.
Hookers would fuck for money but kissing was off their list because it was too loving, too sentimental.

"Is that what you were trying to say, Sammy?"
When Dean pulled back, Sam felt as if a part of his body had been cut off..

"Uh yeah," Sam croaked, the emotions he'd experienced making him hoarse.

"I don't know what it was exactly, " Dean said, his eyes serious. " But whatever it was, I want to do it again, and again and again.."
Sam nodded, uncharacteristically lost for words.

Both pairs of eyes went to the cheap amulet hanging from the mirror.

"What I said back there to Chuck, about us not following rules. I meant every word. We can do whatever we want Sam, and all I ever wanted was you."
He locked eyes with his baby brother.

Sam's heart beat frantically in his chest.
No matter what he'd believed when he was younger, and despite the efforts to change his destiny, in the end all he'd ever needed was sitting right beside him.
"And I you, Dean."

:

Dean nodded.
There had been enough chick-flick moments for now, too exhausting. They would adjourn to the bunker.

They had to work through what had happened, but Dean had tasted his little brother in a way he'd never have imagined, and that taste was highly addictive.
Dean might fight the Mark but he'd no intention of fighting his feelings for Sam.

Cain had kept the Mark under control because of Colette's love.
He glanced at his brother from under his eye-lashes.

Sam was a little too Sasquatch to be mistaken for Colette but Dean knew the love he had for Sam would be the only thing that could keep him from giving in to anything, including the Mark.

"What are you smirking at?" Sam asked.
"Nothing." Dean grinned. "Nothing at all!"

:

The End