Contains dialogue from the episode Sex and Violence, it belongs to Eric Kripke and Cathryn Humphris.

Part of my Deleted Scenes series. Full list of fics in reading order available on my profile page. They will make more sense if read in order. :)

Also: To the user ebonywarrior27 who left me this lovely message "Your a retared Bitch and wincest is gross and j2 are not gay either and you should stop writibg fics cause your lame! And your going to hell bye troll" and then promptly turned off their private messaging feature so I couldn't respond, I am truly sorry that my fantastic stories offended you. When I wrote them, I didn't stop to consider how I would feel about the idea of the Winchester boys committing incest if I too were the pickled offspring of half-wit siblings. I sincerely hope you and your deformed brothers and sisters can get the help you so desperately need and live out the rest of your lives in peace. I also hope someone who has all their chromosomes can explain to you the difference between your and you're.

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam says. "You know, you hadn't'a shown up when you did …"

"You've done the same for me more than once," Bobby says with a shrug. "'Course, you could've picked up a phone. It only took one call to figure out that Agent Nick Monroe wasn't real."

Dean rolls his eyes at himself. He should've thought of that.

"You boys gonna be okay?" Bobby asks.

"Yeah, fine," Sam says.

"Good," Dean agrees, even though they're both lying through their teeth.

Bobby half-salutes them and says, "See ya." He walks a few steps away, and then he turns and adds, "You know, Sirens are nasty things. That it got to you … that's no reason to feel bad." Then he gets into his car and drives away, and Dean's left with an even bigger pit in his stomach than before.

"You gonna say goodbye to Cara?" he asks Sam.

"Nah. Not interested."

"Really? Why not?"

"What's the point?"

Dean nods. "Well look at you. Love 'em and leave 'em."

Sam glances at him briefly, and the expression on his face says he doesn't consider that a compliment. "Dean, look, you know I didn't mean the things I said back there, right? That it was just the Siren's spell talking?"

Dean nods again. "Of course, me too."

"Kay. So … so we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good," Dean says, even though they're about as far from good as they could get, and he walks around to his side of the car and gets in.

They drive in tense silence for a long time. Maybe an hour. Dean's running everything over in his head like a skipping record, and he's waiting for Sam to break their temporary truce and bring things up again, but Sam doesn't. He stares idly out the window at the fields passing by, and picks at the skin around his nails. Dean isn't just mad that Sam's back in contact with Ruby, he's scared. Going down the road with a demon doesn't end anywhere good, and he doesn't understand why Sam doesn't see that. He's really worried that eventually Sam will go too far and Dean won't be able to protect him anymore.

"So are we gonna talk about it?" Dean asks finally.

"About what?"

Dean huffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "About what? Seriously?"

"You said we were good."

"Yeah, 'cause I always say shit like that. And then you sit there for ten minutes stewing about it, and then you decide we do need to talk about it and you make me do it anyway. That's how this works."

Sam laughs a little. "So you're saying you don't hate it when I do that?"

"Of course I hate it. But that doesn't mean …" Dean trails off and sighs.

"Doesn't mean what?"

"I don't know. I just feel like … maybe this is one we shouldn't bury. Maybe there's some stuff we need to say to each other this time. Shit's already messed up enough, don't you think?"

When Dean glances over at Sam, his eyebrows are raised.

"What?" Dean asks defensively.

Sam chuckles and slides down in his seat a little to rest the back of his head on the top of the bench seat. "Dude, it's like Freaky Friday in here. I had casual sex and you wanna talk about feelings."

He probably means it to lighten the mood, but it just irritates Dean. "Yeah, well, speaking of, that's a good place to start. You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?"

"The girl?"

"No shit, the girl. Sam, you slept with some chick just completely out of nowhere and then acted like it wasn't a big deal. I can't remember you ever doing that before, ever. Especially not while we're …"

"Yeah, because you've never done it to me," Sam says mutters sarcastically.

Dean blinks and tries to wrap his head around that line of logic. "Okay wait, so you're saying you slept with the doctor to get back at me for cheating on you like three years ago?"

"Three years? Try like a month! Or are we pretending Anna doesn't exist?"

"I explained that to you," Dean says tensely. Truthfully, he kind of can't believe Sam's throwing it back in his face.

"Oh, so that erases it? Y'know, this is so classic you," Sam continues angrily. "The way things've been between us since you got back from Hell, you'd think we had one of those open relationships where we're together but we're still allowed to sleep with other people. But actually, it's just you that's allowed to sleep with other people, right? 'Cause the rules never apply to Dean fucking Winchester. You're running around sticking your dick in every hole you can find, but as soon as I do it we've got a problem?"

Dean clenches his jaw and bites back a retort. Everything Sam's saying is true, and it makes Dean feel like shit. He'd momentarily forgotten about Anna, and Jamie. Knowing Sam was with someone else was burning him up inside. He wants to be the only person Sam's ever with – the only one who ever kisses him, touches him, pulls all the noises out of him that Dean can never get out of his head. If this is how Sam felt knowing Dean slept with those girls, Dean really has no right to be mad at him for doing the same thing. He still is mad, but now he wishes he weren't.

"I didn't know you were upset about Anna. I'm sorry."

Sam sighs and doesn't answer for a few minutes. Dean looks over at him, and Sam's staring blankly out the window. Dean can just barely make out Sam's reflection through the glass, and he looks upset. When he does speak, his voice is soft and sad. "I don't know why I did it. That's the truth, alright? It had nothing to do with Anna. It was like … I was watching myself do it but I didn't have any control over it."

Dean frowns. "What, like you were possessed or something?"

"No, just … it was like being drunk, kinda. It all made sense at the time, but then as soon as it was over, I couldn't remember why I thought it was a good idea. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I don't know, maybe it was the Siren."

"It hadn't infected you yet."

"Yeah I know, but it was right after we met Nick, right? I mean, maybe Sirens can influence people to do smaller things without actually infecting them, if someone's getting in the way of who they're after. Maybe he got me to spend time with her so he could get you alone."

"I guess," Dean agrees reluctantly. Rationally, that makes sense. And Dean wants really, really badly to believe it's true. He's just not completely sure he does. But it's better than the alternative, that Sam's somehow turned into … well, into Dean. Dean hates everything about himself lately, the last thing he'd ever want is for Sam to be more like him.

"I really didn't mean the stuff I said," Sam says quietly.

Dean presses his lips together and takes a deep breath before he answers. "Yeah, you did. The Siren didn't put those thoughts into your head, Sam. He just made you say them out loud."

Sam nods shortly. "So, then you're saying you meant what you said."

"I …" Dean sighs again, for what feels like the millionth time since they got in the car. "Yeah, I kinda did. At least partly."

"I don't think you're weak."

"Then why did you say it?"

"I …" Sam pauses and looks at Dean. Dean doesn't look back, but he can feel Sam's eyes. "Dean, I think you're … off your game. Since Hell, you're … and that's understandable, okay? That's what I meant. You're not weak, you're just not quite at full-throttle right now."

Dean nods and clenches his jaw again. Sam's right, again, but Dean thought he was doing a better job of hiding it. "Maybe I am weak. Maybe you're right."

"Don't do that." Sam's still looking at him, and Dean still resists the urge to look back. "You're the one who wanted to talk about this. I'm just being honest."

"Honest," Dean mutters. "That's funny."

"So we're talking about Ruby now, I guess."

Dean shrugs. "I don't know. I just think it's worth mentioning, that Sirens turn into what you need most, and for me, it turned into – well, it turned into you. Except a version of you that didn't lie to me."

"What do you want me to say? We're not joined at the freakin' hip, Dean. I'm allowed to have things in my life that don't revolve completely around you."

"Oh don't give me that. This isn't about you working with Ruby again, it's about you keeping it from me!"

"I kept it from you because I knew exactly how you'd react if I told you!"

"Yeah, because it's a bad idea, Sam! Not all that long ago, you agreed with me about that! So what the hell changed?"

"So it is about me working with Ruby?"

"It's about everything!" Dean cries, slamming his palm on the steering wheel. "It's about the fact that I feel like I don't even know you anymore! I used to know you better than anyone, and now, it's like every day I wake up thinking, hm, I wonder what crazy, out of character thing Sam's gonna do today!"

Sam crosses his arms and looks away. "Yeah, well, maybe I am different. Maybe we both are."

Dean shakes his head and closes his eyes for a moment. Then he remembers that he's driving, so he opens them back up quickly and pulls over to the shoulder.

"What're you doing?" Sam asks frowning.

"I'm pissed off and I don't wanna crash," Dean answers through clenched teeth.

Sam stares out the window instead of answering, and then Dean takes a minute to figure out what the hell he's going to say before he speaks. "What did she say to you?"

"Ruby?"

"Yeah." Dean finally looks at him, aching to see some flicker of the truth in Sam's hazel eyes. "A few months ago, you said you were done with her. Or wait, you were done with her, right?"

"What?"

"You haven't been seeing her behind my back all this time?"

Sam shakes his head.

"So then what did she say to change your mind?"

Sam looks away and a muscle in his jaw twitches. "She didn't change my mind. I did. I'm not a puppet, Dean."

"You sure about that?" Dean mumbles, and Sam glares at him.

"Pretty sure, yeah."

"Okay, so why?"

Sam chews on his bottom lip and he folds his arms over his chest again. His voice is quiet when he says, "Because she's helping me get Lilith."

"Why is that so important to you?"

"She sent you to Hell. And since I can't …" He trails off and his eyes fill with tears.

"Hey," Dean says softly, reaching over and touching Sam's shoulder. "Can't what?"

"I was supposed to save you, Dean," Sam mumbles. "And I didn't. The only way I can make up for that is by killing the thing that took you away."

A lump rises in Dean's throat and he swallows thickly. He hates the idea that Sam blames himself for all that. It's just another way Sam's turning into Dean, and Dean has to stop it. "Sammy," he says, and he doesn't continue until Sam looks at him. "That was never your fault. There wasn't anything you could've done. I made the deal, okay? Lilith was just collecting on it. I mean yeah, she's an evil bitch and she deserves to be put down, but this wasn't her fault. It was mine."

"You were just protecting me."

"I made the choice, Sam," Dean says emphatically. The only thing that matters right now is making Sam understand. "Me. Not Lilith. I chose to save you and I chose to go to Hell for it. I don't need you to avenge me!"

"Well maybe I do!"

Dean frowns. "Maybe you do what?"

"Maybe I need me to avenge you. Not everything is about you, has that thought ever crossed your mind? Maybe this is something I need to do for me, and you should just stay the hell out of it."

Staring with unseeing eyes out the windshield, Dean exhales slowly and rubs his hands over his face. "So, you're saying you're not gonna stop. You're gonna keep sneaking around with Ruby, and fuck whatever I think."

"You're my brother, Dean," Sam says softly. "And you're my best friend, and you're my partner. And those are all good things, but none of them gives you the right to be in charge of every goddamn thing I do. I'm not a kid, I am a grown-ass man and I am allowed to make my own decisions. You don't own me. If I wanna work with Ruby, I don't have to ask for your permission."

Dean nods and tries his best to swallow how much that upsets him. "Are you screwing her?" he asks, not even sure if he actually wants to know the answer. He thinks he might throw up if Sam says yes.

Sam shakes his head, though, and it doesn't make Dean feel better anyway.

"Are you going to?"

"No. It happened once, when I was upset. It won't ever happen again. I'm not gonna start banging chicks left and right just because they're there."

"Like I do," Dean concludes for him.

"I didn't say that."

"And yet somehow I still heard it," Dean mutters.

Sam shakes his head again and tips it back, turning it toward the window so he doesn't have to look at Dean. "Just drive."

Dean doesn't know what else to do, so he does.

Dean drives until it's dark. He heads west, but he isn't going anywhere in particular. It's become their little ritual after a hunt, if they don't have another one lined up. Eventually Sam clears his throat and starts talking about football, and they make what amounts mostly to small-talk for a while until they run out of things to say and descend back into uneasy silence. Dean doesn't know what to do this time. He knows Sam working with Ruby is a bad idea, although he doesn't know how he knows so he can't figure out exactly how to talk Sam out of it. As much as Dean wishes it weren't true, Sam's right – he is an adult and Dean can't tell him what to do anymore – not that he ever really could. If Sam's decided Ruby is trustworthy then there isn't much Dean can do about it, and he hates feeling that handcuffed. Especially when it comes to Sam. If she hurts him, Dean is going to slice her into bite-sized pieces and feed her through a paper shredder.

Eventually Dean's eyelids are too heavy to keep going to he finds them a room in a dump outside a town he doesn't even know the name of. It's late and he isn't hungry or interested in pretending things aren't a mess between them right now, so Dean just unloads the car and strips down to his boxers and climbs into the bed closest to the door. His eyes fall closed as soon as his head hits the pillow, but he can hear Sam moving around for maybe ten minutes before he shuts the light off and gets into the other bed. For a while, Dean just lies there and listens to Sam breathe. Sam isn't asleep, Dean can tell, and he isn't surprised when Sam's voice eventually floats out into the tense silence between them.

"Every time things are really messed up in our lives, I always catch myself thinking about how … at least it can't get worse," Sam says softly; sadly. "And then you blink and it does. We're really, really fucked up this time, Dean. And history isn't on the side of it getting better any time soon."

Dean squeezes his eyes closed even more against how hopeless that feels. "Yeah. I know."

"What're … I mean, how …" Whatever Sam was going to say dies out, and he goes quiet again.

Dean's chest aches, and his mind races, and he can't be so far away from Sam anymore. Not while so much unspoken hurt and uncertainty is crackling between them like static. "C'mere," Dean says quietly, opening his eyes and looking over at his brother.

"Where?"

Dean can't help smiling a little. "Here," he repeats.

Sam sighs and stays where he is. "Why? Are we gonna …?"

Dean's smile melts away. He wasn't expecting Sam to refuse. "I … I don't know. Do you want to?"

"I don't know."

Sam isn't looking at Dean, but he looks sad and lost and confused and Dean's older-brother instincts kick in and he takes the decision away from Sam. He gets up and climbs into the bed beside Sam, looking at him for a minute and then crawling on top on him. He straddles Sam's hips, sitting on the tops of Sam's thighs, and leans over to kiss him. It isn't the smartest or healthiest way to deal with what's going on, but it's the only way Dean knows how. It's the only thing that's ever worked for them. Sam responds instantly, parting his lips to deepen it and cupping Dean's face in his hands. Dean licks at his lips and tugs the bottom one between his teeth. Sam's hands slide down over Dean's shoulders and pull at his t-shirt. Dean breaks the kiss long enough to let Sam pull the shirt over his head. Then Dean pulls Sam upright and gets his shirt off before they tumble back down together.

"M'sorry about Anna," Dean mumbles into Sam's lips.

"M'sorry about Cara," Sam answers, his hands running up Dean's bare back. "And I'm sorry about what I said."

Dean shakes his head and kisses down Sam's jaw. "We already – "

"I know. But I just …" Sam slides his fingers over Dean's cheek and makes Dean look at him. "I don't think you're weak. And I don't think you're holding me back. And what I said about what you did in Hell …"

"Doesn't matter." Dean kisses him again, and Sam keeps talking against his lips.

"It does. What happened to you … it's real, and it's hard for you, and I would never make fun of it."

"I know," Dean murmurs. "It's okay, Sammy."

Sam nods but he still looks upset. Dean dips his head down and licks gently at the cut on Sam's neck that he put there. Sirens are officially his least favorite monster. That dick would have made them kill each other if Bobby hadn't shown up. Dean's never felt hatred for his brother like he did under the Siren's spell, and he wishes they'd never taken this case.

"I said what I said 'cause … I'm really scared I'm losing you," Dean admits softly into the space between Sam's neck and his shoulder.

Sam's arms wrap around Dean's back and he kisses the side of Dean's head. "You're not. Never will."

It doesn't do much to soothe Dean's fears, but for now he lets it go. They can fight more about Ruby later. He sits up, purposely grinding his ass against Sam's crotch as he does, and bites his lip as he drinks in the sight of Sam's chest.

Sam smiles a little and pushes up to his elbows. "What?"

Dean smiles back and shrugs. "It's just stupid how gorgeous you are."

Sam predictably rolls his eyes and looks away. Dean leans back down and kisses his collarbone, slowly working his way down Sam's chest with slow, wet slides of his lips. Sam drags his fingers through Dean's hair as Dean licks along the creases of his abs.

"Used to be such a little runt. I don't know how you turned into all this," Dean continues, and Sam chuckles, his stomach rumbling under Dean's mouth.

"Y'know, when I was, like, nine? I started … you know."

Dean grins. "You didn't hide it very well."

"And I always used to – " Sam cuts the sentence short with a sharp inhale as Dean sinks his teeth into the jut of his hipbone. "Uh. What was I saying?"

"You were telling me about your memories of playing with your nine-year-old wiener," Dean says, and Sam laughs again.

"It really doesn't sound good when you put it like that. Anyway. I, uh, I used to think about you."

Dean looks up at him. "Really? That young?"

Sam shrugs. "It wasn't really conscious, you know? I just … you were the biggest thing in my life. And you were all grown up and cool and I never wanted you to pay attention to anyone but me."

Dean nuzzles into the quickly growing bulge beneath Sam's cotton boxers. "Never really did. Not for too long, anyway."

Sam hums in agreement and touches Dean's cheek again.

"Used to think about you too," Dean murmurs. He mouths along the underside of Sam's cock through his boxers. "When you were way too young. Used to hate myself for it."

"So we're fucked up together," Sam says, and in the low, rich cadence of his voice, it sounds like a really, really good thing.

"Guess we are," Dean agrees. He sucks at the outline of Sam's cock until the cotton is damp, and then he pulls Sam's underwear down and tucks them under his balls. Sam's cock rests against his abdomen, hard and flushed and leaking already, and Dean just looks at it for a moment before he ducks down and licks at the head.

"Dean," Sam sighs, so responsive even at the smallest things. Dean's always loved that.

He wraps his lips around the head and sucks, laving his tongue along the sensitive spots under the ridge, letting spit dribble down so he can curl his fingers around the shaft and stroke slowly. Sam sighs again, cupping Dean's cheek in his hand and dragging his thumb over the corner of Dean's mouth where they're connected. Dean looks up at him as he bobs his head, and Sam's eyes are dark and lust-blown but soft and fond at the same time.

Dean lets Sam's hard flesh slip out of his mouth but keeps squeezing his fist around it. "What d'you want?" he asks.

Sam leans over the side of the bed to the duffel he'd left on the floor and digs around in it for a moment, coming back with a small tube that he holds out for Dean.

"You sure?" Dean asks as he takes it. His cock throbs at the thought, but with the way things are between them right now, he wasn't expecting this.

"Yeah," Sam whispers with a small smile, and Dean can't help himself. He crawls back up Sam's body and settles down on top of him to kiss him again, one of those slow, deep ones he can feel right down to his toes. Sam wraps his arms around Dean's back and holds him there, sliding his tongue around Dean's and rocking up into him so their erections rub together.

"Love you," comes out of Dean's mouth completely out of his control, and for maybe the first time ever, Sam answers with Dean's standard-issue, "I know you do."

Dean slides off Sam but stays pressed up against his side, only breaking the kiss long enough to help Sam wrestle his boxers off and then diving back in. He pops the cap on the lube one handed, and Sam blindly helps him spread a blob of it over his fingers while he fucks his tongue into Dean's mouth. Dean reaches down, sliding lube-sticky fingers over Sam's balls and loving the swell of arousal in his gut when Sam lets his legs fall open to give Dean room. For a minute, Dean just plays with the little opening, circling his finger around it to feel it twitch under his touch. Then he slides just the tip of his finger forward, working it in slower than Sam probably needs.

Sam nips at Dean's bottom lip and then licks it, and Dean pushes his tongue into Sam's mouth and licks at every surface he can get to. His senses flood with Sam, with his smell and the way he tastes and feels and the soft, breathy noises he makes when Dean pulls his finger out and pushes back with two. He spreads them apart, stretching Sam out as thoroughly as he can. Then he adds another and starts pumping them in and out. The angle is awkward and hurts his wrist, but he can't seem to stop kissing Sam. His lips are numb and his head spins from the lack of oxygen but detaching his lips from Sam's feels like it would make the world stop turning.

Sam moans beautifully into Dean's mouth when Dean shoves his fingers in as far as they'll go and presses against Sam's prostate. He arches up into Dean and then falls back down, and Dean loves it so he does it a few more times.

"Dean," Sam whispers.

"Kay," Dean answers. He pulls his fingers out slowly, then he wraps his hand around Sam's cock and strokes it a few more times. He squeezes and digs his thumb in under the head, and Sam inhales sharply and turns his face into Dean's neck. Dean smiles, pleased with himself, and keeps twisting his wrist around the head of Sam's leaking cock, leaning down to kiss Sam's smooth cheek.

"C'mon," Sam grumbles, pushing weakly at Dean's shoulder.

Dean's so hard his head is going fuzzy and he kind of can't believe he's managed not to touch himself for so long. He was too focused on Sam. He pushes his own boxers off and tosses them away, and he brushes his lips against Sam's as he crawls back on top of him. Sam's legs fall open even more and Dean gets a dirty thrill over how much Sam trusts him. His lips fall away from Sam's but he leaves his forehead resting against Sam's as he lines himself up and pushes slowly into Sam's body. Dean's eyes slam shut and he moans, his neglected cock sinking slowly into silky, tight heat. He goes as slow as he can, his body screaming at him to just slam into Sam, but Sam doesn't seem to need it. He bucks up against Dean to get him in further, so Dean pushes his hips forward until his balls rest against the globes of Sam's ass.

Sam exhales shakily, his breath warm and moist on Dean's cheek, and he brings his hands up to cup Dean's face and angle his head for another deep kiss. Dean holds still for a minute to let Sam get used to the intrusion and then he rocks his hips, his cock sliding in and out of Sam's body. Sam's still tight and it feels better than Dean remembers from the last time they did this.

"Sammy," he breathes, pressing kisses into Sam's slightly open mouth.

"C'mon," Sam urges. "More."

Dean speeds up, thrusting into Sam quickly, his eyes falling closed again with how good it feels. Sam lets Dean stay in control for a while and then he plants one foot on the mattress and flips them over, Dean landing on the bed with Sam on top of him in a tangle of limbs. Sam kisses Dean breathless as he bounces on top of him, driving Dean's cock in and out of his ass quick and dirty and so fucking good Dean could cry.

"Fucking hate it when we don't do this every day," Dean mumbles, sliding his fingers through Sam's hair and tugging on it.

"Me too," Sam agrees through a grunt as he lowers himself completely on Dean's erection and grinds his hips so the tip of Dean's cock rubs against his prostate. "Fuck."

For a long time, Dean was really, really scared he'd hurt Sam if they ever did this again. He was so broken and so ashamed over what he did in Hell that he was sure he'd take any opportunity to go back to being that powerful. Then Sam showed him he wouldn't, showed how much he loves and trusts Dean, and Dean really can't remember why they haven't been doing it twice a day ever since. Too many other things keep getting in the way and Dean's sick of it. He pushes his hips up, matching Sam's movements, and groans harshly as a wave of intense pleasure washes over him.

He pushes at Sam and flips them back over, landing hard on top of Sam and thrusting into him faster.

"Dean, fuck," Sam groans, his head tipping back and eyes falling closed. He wraps his legs around Dean's waist and his arms around Dean's back, pulling him in so close that Sam's cock rubs between their stomachs.

"Close, baby boy," Dean grunts, and Sam moans his agreement. Dean goes to push his hand between them to get to Sam's cock but Sam shakes his head.

"Just like this," he rasps, and Dean closes his eyes against another wave of arousal.

He nods, reaching behind himself instead. He hooks a hand under one of Sam's knees and hitches his legs up more, changing the angle to nail Sam's prostate on every hard thrust. Sam grunts and shudders and clings to Dean, and it's less than a minute before he moans and floods the space between them with warm, sticky release. His muscles clench around Dean, squeezing his cock and pulling an orgasm out of him too. It hits him almost unexpectedly, like a punch, and Dean grunts again and fills his brother up as his head spins and skin catches fire. He rocks slowly into Sam as the last pulses of his orgasm die out, and then he lowers himself onto Sam and closes his eyes. Sam stays wrapped around him, and he kisses the side of Dean's face.

Dean floats in the warmth and post-sex blur while Sam runs his fingers slowly up and down Dean's spine. It's cozy and comfortable and Dean wishes he could stay here forever. Eventually his softening cock slips out of Sam, and Dean starts to reluctantly get up, to get a cloth to wipe them down, but Sam stops him.

"Stay," he says in a small voice, like he thinks Dean wasn't planning on coming back.

Dean frowns. "I was just …" he starts, but then at the look on Sam's face he changes his mind. He settles back down and pulls Sam into his arms. "Not goin' anywhere, Sammy," he whispers into Sam's hair. Sam snuggles in close and Dean isn't sure he knows what's going on but holds Sam tight anyway.

Maybe Dean hasn't been a very good brother lately. Maybe that's the problem; maybe he's been too focused on himself. Maybe if he can be better, Sam won't feel like he has to turn to someone else to get what he needs. Nothing good will come from Sam believing anything that comes out of Ruby's mouth, Dean just knows it. He hugs Sam a little tighter and makes a promise to himself that he won't let that happen.