Things We Don't Expect (In Our Line of Work)
Summary: 3rd in the 'Things We Have to Do" series. Sam and Dean expect a lot of all kinds of things in the supernatural world. But this isn't one of them. Sick!Sam Worried!Protective!Dean
Wincest (as you know, unless you're reading this as a stand-alone).
.~*~.
It's been over six weeks since they began this...new relationship with each other. They'd left that little hotel behind a month ago and headed west.
Things had been fairly slow. Just a few simple salt 'n burns in a couple different states, and enough down time to spend some highly demanded quality time together in motel after cheesy motel. Usually Dean wasn't a big fan of down time. Now he couldn't wait for it. He could do his job, mind you. Their relationship hadn't taken away any of his ability to concentrate on the tasks at hand, nor Sam's. But when they weren't having to use their complete and undivided attention on a hunt and keeping each others backs safe, there was nothing they wanted more than to be curled up in some shape, form or fashion with each other.
This morning, they'd arrived in Cook County, Illinois. Sam had gotten a phone call from an old friend from school. Well, an old friend's brother anyway. Jess's best friend back in college was killed in a freak bear attack a week earlier. Her brother remembered Sam and wanted to let him know.
Sam needed to go; he couldn't not. It was that last piece of Jess he knew had still been around. Plus, the kid sounded devastated on the phone, and Sam was incapable of ignoring that.
He didn't ask Dean. But Dean knew right away that he needed to take him there. Even though he'd missed the funeral, he'd want to go and get some kind of closure, or whatever girly thing Sam might be thinking. And that thought wasn't even negative, really. Dean very much thought that Sam's thoughts were important, no matter how chick-flick they might be. Even if he gave him a hard time about it, he never thought that anything Sam felt wasn't worth believing in.
Sam met the girl's brother, Peter, at a local coffee shop. They talked. Well, Peter talked and Sam listened. He'd insisted that Dean stay at the hotel and watch the Dr. Sexy marathon while he was gone, sparing him what would most likely end up being completely uninteresting to someone who didn't know these people.
So there he was, marathon now over, lying in the bed closest to the door (there were only double bed rooms), forcing himself not to pace anymore. It was nearing midnight and Dean missed his brother. Hell, he'd missed him a couple of hours into the marathon, and that'd still been just after noon. It wasn't that he was horny or bored, because he was. Well, he had been. Now he was bordering on 'worried' instead. Though Sam had called him hours ago to tell him that Peter and a couple of the kid's friends were going to take him hiking up to the spot where Amanda, Jess's best friend, had been attacked by the bear.
Dean had been anxious about it, asking, "What if it wasn't a bear, Sammy?" But Sam had replied with, "Already thought of that, Dean. Peter was there when the attack happened and it was definitely a bear. And it didn't even seem to mean to kill her, but it was frightened because they'd gotten too close to her cubs, pushed Amanda away, hard, and her head collided with a rock."
"What if she's haunting the woods?"
"She died at the hospital, and she was cremated last week."
"Did you at least bring a gun?"
"I've got a knife, Dean," he assured. "Hey, if you're that worried, I can swing by and pick you up. You can go hiking with us."
"I'm not worried," Dean fibbed. "It's fine... Just be careful, okay?"
"I'll be fine," he told him and Dean could hear the smile. "Just wanted to let you know I'd be back late, and not to freak out when I don't pick up my phone if you call. Probably not very good reception in the woods."
So yeah, Dean was getting a little worried anyway. He tried to focus, instead, on the fact that this Peter kid had just lost his sister, and that had to have been hard. Sam always had this way of helping people. People took comfort in him. He wondered if Sam would need comfort when he got back.
Like clockwork, the headlights from the Impala flashed through the small gap in the curtains as it turned in. Dean's heart skipped happily, relieved. He shot out of bed and opened the door just in time for Sam to get to it.
Sam found himself wrapped tightly in his brother's embrace the moment he entered the room, and he couldn't help the chuckle as his kicked the door shut behind him. "I missed you too," he said, hugging him back as tightly.
"Everything okay?" Dean asked, not letting go.
"Yeah. It's...yeah, everything's fine," he told him, squeezing him tighter to him.
"Are you okay?" Dean gently pulled back to meet his eyes. "I know this musta been..." he shook his head, not really knowing how to word his thoughts.
"I'm okay," Sam gave him a sad smile. "I feel sad for Peter. I mean, he lost his only sibling. I know how that feels," his eyes shifted away for a moment. "But I got you back, and he isn't gonna be so lucky."
Dean swallowed a lump in his throat. He hadn't really been thinking about Peter's feelings in all of this. But he knew all too well what losing a sibling felt like. If he hadn't been able to get Sam back that first time, there was no way he'd have been able to go on. Of course, not all siblings were as close as Sam and him; new-found sexual relationship aside.
"I meant, ya know, what it means to you," Dean said a bit softer.
Sam took a breath and walked to sit down on the edge of the bed, holding onto Dean's hand so he'd follow suit. "It's just...one more piece of Jessica that's gone," he admitted. "But the more time that goes by and the more I find out, Jess and I were never meant to be together. She was just another innocent pawn in a diabolical plan to lead me down a path to where fate wanted me to end up. Yes I loved her," he said, meeting Dean's eyes, "But never like I love you; loved you even then... I honestly don't think it would've ever been possible to feel that way about anyone but you. Jess...she was an innocent bystander, a victim that unwittingly got in the way of the course that destiny laid out for me.
"Normal people...well things walk into their lives that change them, change their fate. Us? Well, we never saw our destinies coming until bodies started piling up and blood had to be shed to get us at least steered enough off course that we came out the other end in one piece..." he took a few breaths, realizing that Dean was intently listening to every word; allowing him to get everything out. "Short answer, though?" he half-smiled, "Amanda was never quite sure about me. She didn't like me. Thought I wasn't good for Jess. Turns out she was right," he laughed, sadly. Dean squeezed his hand. "But I think she always knew that Jess died because of me, somehow. Even if she didn't even understand that. Why Peter called me, I don't even know," he shook his head. "Amanda must've said something nice about me. Maybe she didn't hate me after all."
"How could anyone hate you?" Dean asked sincerely.
Sam's mouth curled up on one side. "People that haven't been around me long enough to get their lives screwed up, that question might apply."
"I've been around you longer than anyone. My life isn't screwed up." Sam raised a brow. "I mean, it's not any more screwed up than it's ever been."
"I'm the reason our entire lives are screwed up, Dean," he countered. "I'm the reason the yellow-eyed demon ever came into our lives..."
"That's not true," Dean raised his brows. "Mom made a deal with him. If it's anyone's fault it's hers." Sam looked at him with surprise at the fact that he'd just said such a thing about their mother. Usually he was ever-defensive, even when it was the truth on the table. "Hell," he shrugged, "It's not even really her fault either. They had us all targeted from the moment mom and dad were born. We never had a chance," he shook his head with a sad smile of his own. "But ya know what? Turns out...even with all the bullshit and the crazy-as-fuck life we've had, I still got a happy ending, Sammy. I still got you..."
As much of an understatement as that all had been, Sam couldn't help but be moved by it. He gave a watery smile and shook his head, eyes squinting a little as his lips pursed a bit, like whenever he tried to speak without letting his emotions get out of control. "I don't deserve you," he said, almost in a whisper.
"Of course you deserve me," Dean's brows furrowed. "We deserve each other, and no one else deserves us. I mean fuck, man..." he shook his head. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Would you?"
Dean found himself suddenly being straddled by his brother, grabbing onto his shirt to keep from falling backwards. "I love you so much, Dean," Sam said before smashing their mouths together in an attempt to prove it. Dean's hands found their way up to Sam's hair, grabbing fists-full as he returned the kiss with enthusiasm. And when Sam moaned into Dean's mouth in response to the slight pulling of his hair, Dean led them both backward so he was on his back with Sam over him.
It was Dean's turn to groan as Sam pressed his already half-hard cock into Dean's, through their jeans. "Fuck, baby, love you too," one of his hands traveled down to Sam's ass, urging him to do it again.
Sam chuckled. "You love the sex," he smirked.
"Hey! Who started this?"
"Touche..." Sam dove down to Dean's neck, grazing his teeth over his pulse-point and sucking until Dean made the keening sound he'd been aiming for.
"I mean...of course I love the sex," Dean panted underneath his brother, unable to resist thrusting his hips up into him. "But...I'd still love you...more than anything...even if we couldn't have it..." Sam pulled away just enough to meet Dean's eyes, looking at him as he absorbed the statement. While he hovered there, Dean got a bit anxious. "Let's...ya know not stop having sex though, okay?"
Sam huffed a laugh. "That's not why I stopped. It's just...that was a really romantic, chick-flick thing to say."
"Shut up!" Dean pouted.
"No, I like it sometimes," he leaned down to kiss his lips. "It's...unexpected, like when you let me drive for no reason in particular..." Dean was blushing, now, and Sam just smiled at him; at how adorable it was. Until Dean pulled him back down to kiss him again, more roughly this time. Sam groaned against his mouth, pressing himself against Dean once more before his hand slipped between them and began to open Dean's pants.
There was a moment where Dean tried to flip them over, and Sam stopped him, pinning his wrists down on the mattress on either side of his head; ordered him not to try it again. Dean's breath had knocked out of him at the command, and his eyes went to focus on the ceiling as Sam attacked his neck and continued getting both their pants jerked down just enough to be able to get their dicks out. There was something about Sam taking control that just...did something to Dean like nothing else could.
In the end, Sam had brought them both off with one hand wrapped around both hard cocks, and they were covered in each others come. Sam had made some comment about needing to do the laundry in the morning, and Dean had started stripping them both free of their clothes before dragging Sam into the shower with him.
"Whoa, dude, you got bit the hell up," Dean's fingers investigated the patch of bug bites on Sam's left shoulder blade. "Does it hurt?"
"Nah. Just itches," he replied, trying to turn his head to look back. "I sprayed that repellant crap from the trunk on me. Guess I missed a spot."
"Or it's expired. But hell...no, wait. You're bit up in a couple other spots, too. I was gonna say it was weird that they only picked this one spot."
"Maybe that was the sweetest spot," Sam smirked.
"Fuckin' mosquitoes best not touch you again," Dean growled. "I'm the only one that gets to taste you," he turned Sam around and pressed him up against the shower wall...
.~*~.
Three states and six days later, the brothers were filling a grave back in when it started to downpour like no ones business.
Dean was cursing and Sam was laughing, both hurrying to get all the dirt back into the hole so they could take off.
"It's not funny, Sam!" Dean shouted as they started back to the car. "We're soaking freaking wet and it's gonna stink up the upholstery."
"It's a little funny," Sam chuckled. "And it's not that big a deal."
"I just think we should have...I dunno, some kind of assistant or something, ya know? I mean, why do we do all the work, huh? We do the traveling, the hero stuff, and the cleaning up. We should have a clean up crew!"
"Like what," Sam snorted a laugh, "Alfred?"
"No. Not like Alfred. He was old. And damnit, see what I mean though? Batman didn't even have to make his own sandwiches."
"We're not Batman."
"No, we're not. We're better than Batman. Batman had one city, and they were normal people and he was rich and had awesome gadgets to fight with and a mansion and a butler. We have the whole country to look out for, depend on theft and hustling pool to survive, and...well I guess our gadgets are kinda cool..."
"And we don't need a mansion," Sam added. "And we have a Dean-mobile."
Dean laughed at that as they approached the Impala. "Let's grab some towels or something from the trunk; lay 'em out on the seats, Robin."
Sam huffed as Dean threw open the trunk. "I'd be Batman," he argued. "You're shorter."
Dean glanced at him with an incredulous look for just a moment before realizing that Sam was expecting it, then turned back to the trunk to throw the shovels in. "Yeah, well I'm older, and Batman is definitely older than Robin. So I'm Batman."
"Oh right I forgot, you are pretty old," he smirked as he pulled the blanket from the trunk.
Dean squinted at him as he closed it. "Neither of us is Robin, okay? You're...you're Batgirl," he smirked, slyly.
"You are such a jerk," Sam shook his head, but his smile was still firmly in place as they headed into the car, Sam throwing the blanket across the seats before they got in.
Dean smiled big as he laughed, looking over at Sam as he started the car, just to make sure he knew he was just messing around. "Man, you are soaked," he said as he looked him up and down. "Good thing it was pretty hot out to begin with. Which makes me wonder why the hell you're shivering," he raised his brows as he looked him over.
"I dunno," he huffed with a smile. "Rain made me chilly I guess." He glanced down to where Dean had obviously shoved his flashlight into the front of his pants while they'd escaped the rain, and giggled at what it looked like. "What's that?" he snorted, gesturing to the bulge it made in his pants.
Dean looked down, then up at Sam again. "What...this? It's just my package," he slyly smirked, raising his brows for a moment. "Yep. God delivered it. I signed for it. World keeps on spinnin'."
"Dude," Sam laughed, "Did you just quote Stewie?"
"Stop knowing all my quotes, damnit," he grunted, but without any real heat behind it, then pulled away from the graveyard...