The scar along his stomach is from South Carolina.
The short round one on his left shoulder is from a ghost up in Wisconsin.
The long super deep scar that runs across his stomach is from their encounter with Big
Foot up in Michigan.
The really long one running up the side of his leg is from a poltergeist down in Florida.
He remembers every single one of his brother's wounds.
There isn't a mark on Dean's body Sam doesn't know about.
Or so he thought.
His hands trace across dozens more that he knows. But he froze the moment his fingers slide across a series of scares he doesn't remember.
But this one he doesn't know. It's on the under side of his left arm, just inches from his armpit. Sam has to blink for a few times to work it all in. His eyes fill with tears and the air in his lungs feels like it's being sucked out.
"You did this?"
Dean looks embarrassed. Is embarrassed, that Sam saw it. That Sam finally caught him.
"When?" He means so much more then that. 'When did you do that to yourself?' 'When did you start to feel more then just my brother?'
Dean drops his eye to the four year old marking then lifts them back to his brother.
"The day you left."
It's the answer to each of his unspoken questions and Sam knows that.
He moves his thumbs across the scares that spell out his name. Sammy was carved into his brother's skin. Sam can see the points where the knife dug deep and when it eased up. He can see the still rippled out, making his name an indentation on him.
Sam lowers his mouth and presses his lips to the scares. He doesn't want to think about Dean sitting alone in a dark motel room carving his name onto his body. He doesn't want to think of how much pain he was going through. But at the same time, it makes Sam's stomach twist with emotion.
"I didn't want you to see this-" Dean hisses, his body still sweaty against Sam.
Sam blinks then looks up at his brother, meeting his eyes square on. "I have to."
Sam doesn't explain that he needs to know every mark on Dean's body, he needs to know every inch of him. And Dean doesn't explain how that makes his own stomach twist in relief.
Sam studied it with more intent then anything Dean's ever seen. He runs his thumb over it and then leans down to get a better view of it.
Dean smirks, "Come on man, that's starting to tickle."
Sam ignored his remark and continues to inspect the scar. He leans further in and slowly presses a kiss to the wound. He moves along each letter, kissing and caressing.
Healing each scar, giving silent promise that they'll be the last.