Not beta'd. I haven't watched anything from Season 9, so I only have a vague idea of what's going on. Takes place after 9x06.
Sam is used to a lot of shit from Dean. He ignores it for the most time, because his brother is not good with this, with fundamental truths about himself, with emotions in general, and he feels it's a small weakness compared to all the faults Sam uses to find within himself.
But this is too much bullshit even for them. Sam knows he's probably making a scene but he doesn't really care. Kevin can stop throwing him warning looks and leave if he wants to.
„Dean", Sam starts, and if he didn't know better he'd say Dean flinched. He was about to go outside before anyone could say anything to his shit, but he really should have known better.
„Dean, listen. You have not been affected by the charm. The book states clearly that this is only possible if your heart already belongs to someone. Kevin, Charlie and I were all completely out of it out there, and if not for your quick thinking we'd all have died.
Dammit Dean, it's not as big a deal, just get Cas here and we can kill her."
There had been an incident with, naturally, a witch. Not more powerful than the other ones they had to deal with over the years, just a lot smarter.
Dean stands frozen in in the near vincinity of the door, left hand stretched out for the handle. Slowly, he turns around. Sam can hear Kevin make a tactical retreat behind him. Dammit, he envies the fucker. Until right about now, he had successfully avoided speaking about this with his brother, and he isn't exactly eager or ready either.
„I can't", Dean grunts finally. He stares at Sam helplessly, and Sam really just wants to hug him and tell him that it's fine, everything's fine. Except that it isn't.
„Why the fuck not? You make no sense, Dean. If this is about your feelings..."
Dean cuts him off by stepping far too close, eyes blazing. „It's not about my fucking feelings, Sam. It's about the angel inside of you!"
Sam can feel his head whipping backwards, can feel that something is wrong suddenly. It's not a foreign feeling. Somebody is trying to take over his mind.
Sam Winchester has overpowered Lucifer. He is not going to succumb to whoever . .
There is a lot of mental wrestling involved, and Sam just knows that this is going to end in a massive headache, but he has forgotten nothing. He twists and turns and uses all the tricks Castiel tought him to deal with Lucifer, and finally, the presence retreats to the back of his mind.
When he opens his eyes he's lying on the floor. Dean kneels beside him, looking devastated.
„Sam?"
„I'm, ugh. I'm fine. Some pain-killers would be awesome." Dean produces some from the insides of his jacket. He looks so miserable that Sam regrets saying anything in the first place. Then he remembers what just happened.
„What the fuck, Dean?"
Dean doesn't start talking before drawing some banishing sigil on the wall and helping Sam on the couch, in that order. Then he tells him everything.
By the end of it, Sam is completely astonished. Nevermind furious. And also speechless.
„You threw Cas out because of Ezekiel. Because of me."
He hasn't thought it was possible for Dean to look even more miserable. Well, he has been wrong.
„He said I had to. But I... I had strange dreams, Sam. I think he's not up to anything good. When I mentioned him to Cas he seemed to like Ezekiel well enough, so I trusted him enough. I didn't have any choices left, Sammy. I couldn't lose you again."
Sam wants to cup Dean's face and tell him how stupid he is. He doesn't, for obvious reasons.
„But I talked to Cas on the phone, and it kinda spilled out. I think he got suspicious anyway. He has way more faith in me than he should have."
Dean stops, gets the hard liquor from the kitchen, sits down again. Takes a large gulp.
„I'm glad I finally told you. I should have known you're able to hold him off. Also, his being inside you – sorry – seems to help no matter if he's in charge or not."
Sam eyes the liquor with jealousy but nods. He's tired of people in his head, but he'd probably be dead by now if it wasn't for Ezekiel.
„So I kinda saw this moment coming, and I worked out a binding spell that demons sometimes use against particularily troublesome hosts."
Dean gets up again to bring a book, this time and proceeds explaining the intricacies of the spell. Sam has to swallow a smile. Dean would be awesome at research if he just got a modicum of pleasure out of it. Which clearly, he doesn't.
„It prevents you from throwing him out, but also stops him from leaving. I have to cut it into your skin, I'm afraid."
Sam just nods and lifts his shirt. „Back or front?"
Dean montions at his chest and gets the usual stuff. Desinfectant, bandages, a knife.
Sam tries to ignore Dean's proximity and what he's doing to his chest in order to concetrate on Ezekiel, who doesn't seem to try to leave, but you never know with angels.
Ah yes. They had interrupted their discussion.
„So", Sam starts again, staring at the ceiling while Dean kneels between his legs, steadily cutting into his skin.
„You and Cas."
Dean makes a pained noise, but says nothing.
„Tell me about it."
„No."
„Dean."
„No, Sammy. This is... It's complicated."
Sam winces when Dean cuts near his right nipple, but refuses to shut up about this. If his brother has fallen in love, he wants to know about it. He doesn't want to talk about it, specifically, but there's no other way to get this information, is there?
„Witchcraft seems to disagree", he remarks casually.
Dean sighs.
„Okay, you know what? I'll tell you. When I'm drunk. After I'm done here. And only if you promise to never bring it up again, to never talk to anyone about it, and to not interrupt me."
Sam rolls his eyes. „Okay."
„Okay. Give me the desinfectant."
After Sam's chest is wrapped up in gauze and Dean has managed to empty almost half the bottle of whiskey, he finally starts talking.
Sam has sat down in the armchair instead of the couch next to Dean. He feels that this warrants a certain kind of distance between them, and Dean seems to agreee.
„So. Purgatory." Dean swallows another mouthful, eyes unfocused on the ceiling.
„Benny and I found Cas at some lake, crouching, washing his face. He was dirty, his clothes ripped and his hair longer than usual. He even had a beard, Sammy."
Dean smiles, and it makes something inside Sam clench painfully.
„I got mad at him when he told me he ran from the Leviathan. I couldn't believe he'd just leave me there, you know. I was so... I don't know. I don't even remember what I said, specifically. And then he told me he fled because every monster, even the Leviathan, would concentrate on him first, me second. He did it to protect me, to keep them away from me, and had been running ever since."
Sam keeps the noise he wants to make in, barely. It's just like Cas, though, isn't it? Everything for Dean. His life, his grace, Heaven. He's distracted from his thoughts, who definitely weren't bitter in nature at all, he tells himself, by the frown on Dean's face.
"Benny said afterwards that I looked like Cas had slapped me. I only remember wanting to kiss him."
Dean closes is eyes, and Sam is grateful because like this, he can't see Sam's expression. It's probably one of pure surprise, but he can never be too careful. He refrains from asking for clarification. He had promised, after all.
"I didn't, but maybe I should have, I don't know. I realized then, and it was pretty anti-climatic. I guess I always kinda knew, and Purgatory...well. It makes you realize things about yourself, you know?"
Sam nods, even though he doesn't know. Dean looks at him from under heavy lids, head thrown back against the sofa cushions. He must be really drunk by now. "Come on, Sammy, ask. You have my permission to speak." He smirks at that, clearly finding himself very funny.
Sam swallows, not sure if he even wants to know the answer to his question, because, well. This seems huge, and they had always been so close, and is it really possible that he did not notice something so fundamental about his own brother?
"Uh. Did you...I only ever saw you with women."
That's not really a question, and Sam's a fucking coward, but to his relief, Dean lets it slide, watching the swirl of the liquor in his bottle now.
"There was this guy, back in high school. His name was Martin. He was...I had a crush on him for years. He asked me out when I turned sixteen, and we fooled around for a bit. And then, Dad found out."
Sam cringes, and the way Dean's lips curl in disgust tells him everything he needs to know about John's reaction.
"Yeah, it wasn't pretty. I stayed away from guys after that, and it wasn't like it was a real hardship. Women are awesome, after all."
Dean looks like he's considering saying something more on the subject, but hesitates. Sam motions for him to continue.
"I... wanted to, sometimes. But even after Dad died, I somehow never did."
Sam contemplates that. He remembers all the time he had thought, for maybe three seconds, that Dean was flirting with a man. And then always dismissed it as Dean being his usual charming self. And then there had been the Siren, of course.
Dean grins. "Yeah, the Siren. Well. I always wondered why you didn't ask after that."
Sam tries to unclench his jaw. He has had his own reasons for never mentioning that particular incident.
"I think Bobby knew about Martin, but he never once said anything."
There's silence in which Dean seems to decide that it's time for a piss and a glass of water. Sam keeps staring at the wall the whole time.
When Dean comes back, he seems to visibly force himself to keep talking, but probably figures that it's best to get it all out in one. Sam's genuinely impressed with him.
"When Cas first walked in, I was... I dunno, man. He was something else entirely. And then he started sacrificing shit for me and somehow, I must have fallen in love with him." Dean sounds suddenly small, like he hates admitting it, hates the fact in itself, and Sam prays to every deity they haven't killed yet for patience and guidance.
"And I...kind of went to visit him, last week."
Sam doesn't try to hide his eye-roll. No shit.
"Stop that, I know I was obvious. He...had a date. I gave him advice, Sammy."
Dean looks so pained that Sam wants to kill something.
"But I thought that it would be better for him, you know? Far away from me, normal life, wife, kids...Well, turns out it didn't end so well. He called me and said she only wanted him as a baby-sitter."
"Duh, that's hard", Sam can't refrain from saying, and Dean nods in agreement.
"Yeah, I know. And, well. Now I apparently need him here. And I can't not tell him this time, and this is freaking me out, Sammy."
Sam, despite his better judgement, migrates to the couch at that and puts an arm around Dean's shoulders. Dean lets him, miraculously.
"You'll do fine. He loves you."
Dean snorts, but lets his head rest on Sam's arm.
"This was the worst talk since pre-school, man."
"This was the healthiest talk we ever had, Dean. Now go to sleep, you can call Cas tomorrow."
Dean makes a small sound in his throat that may or may not have been a protest, but falls asleep almost immidiatedly.
Sam huffs and lets his head fall to the side, trying not to think about Ezekiel, or the witch. Dean and Cas. Why the witch didn't think his heart was bound already, too, because Sam was fairly sure it was.
He sighs and goes to sleep.
~End