"Do we need to talk about this?" Sam asked him as they started getting into the car. Dean winced as he agitated the salt still lodged in his chest. He couldn't wait to get out of this fucking town and find the nearest motel so that he could wash the shit out of his chest. He gritted his teeth a little, thinking about how much it was going to sting.
"Of course not." Dean said, lying his face off as he started the car and waited for Sam to get in. He didn't say another word as they drove away from the asylum. What else was there to say to your little brother, and only family at the moment, who just pumped your chest full of rock salt and then pulled the trigger of a pistol that was aimed at your head? Not much. Well, not much that Dean cared to say.
After about an hour, he darted a glance over at Sam who was staring out the window. Dean shook his head from side to side and winced as pain shot up his neck from his chest. He sighed softly to himself as he turned his attention back to the road. He hated lying to Sam, but he'd lied his face off to Sam practically everyday since Sam turned 16.
Dean remembered that day very well. It was the day that something had changed in their relationship. Before that day, Sam had told him everything - and he'd told Sam everything. But everything changed after Dean made the foolish mistake of kissing Sam that night as they lay in their sleeping bags staring up at the stars. They had been talking about life and love, and the only thing Dean could think about had been the way Sam's hair shimmered in the light from the dying fire. Their dad was asleep inside the tent, passed out after having too much to drink. And after about five minutes of Sam talking and Dean not hearing a word, because he'd been staring at his little brothers full lips, Sam had asked him what he was looking out. And he'd replied by leaning down and brushing his lips against Sam's. He'd let his lips linger there for a few seconds, his eyes shut tightly, and then he'd pulled away and opened his eyes to look down into Sam's own hazel eyes. Sam's eyes had been full of confusion, hurt, and something else that Dean had never been able to identify. Neither of them said a word as Sam looked away and then rolled over, his back facing Dean. Dean had sighed heavily and laid down on his back looking up the stars. He didn't even remember falling asleep. The next night, after their father had passed out in the motel room next to theirs, Sam brought it up.
"What was that all about last night?" Sam had asked in a neutral tone.
"What was what about?" Dean asked innocently as he shrugged his shoulders a little bit. His mind was racing with an excuse to explain away his behavior. After all, it might be normal for a guy to kiss a guy now a days, but Dean was pretty sure it was pretty illegal to kiss your little brother.
"You know what I mean Dean. Why'd you kiss me last night?" Sam asked, his voice sounding a little strained as he forced himself to say the last part. Dean sighed heavily.
"I just got carried away with my own thoughts. I was thinking about Jenna and how much I missed kissing her. So, when you broke me from my thoughts, my first reaction was to kiss." He said calmly as he lied his face off, to the one person he'd always been completely honest with his whole life. Sam looked at him skeptically for a few seconds, but to Dean they had felt like an eternity, and then he looked away. Dean had slumped down in his bed, mentally yelling at himself for screwing things up like he had. The next time they'd camped out, Sam had placed his sleeping bag on the other side of the fire.
Dean snapped back to the present as the car behind him honked their horn at him. Sam glanced at him nervously. "You ok man? You need me to drive?" His voice shaking slightly as he spoke to Dean for the first time since they'd left the asylum.
"Nah, I'm okay." Dean said, lying his face off once more. After the first few times, it kind of grew into a habit. A habit that Dean hated with every fiber of his being, but one that he wasn't about to kick. As he popped in a STYX cassette, he thought about the lie he'd told that had hurt the most. It had been the night that Sam had told him and his father that he was going away to college.
"I got a full ride to Stanford for all four years. And I can work to pay for my books and food. Neither of you will have to worry about anything. And I won't hold you back when you go hunting. We all know that I'm not as skilled as the two of you. It's just something I never excelled at." Sam had stated, the words rushing out of his mouth. The fear evident in his tone and his posture.
Dean had felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, and his eyesight had gone black for a few moments. He'd shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds, trying to calm himself down, and then he'd slowly opened it. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he'd never been in so much pain in his whole life. He had been sure that his father would scream and yell and tell Sam how foolish he was. And then, Sam wouldn't leave. But, Dean felt like he'd been sucker punched when his father had finally replied.
"Fine, but if you walk out that door and leave. Don't ever bother coming back." Their father had said, and then he'd cast a glare at Sam and left. All Dean could do was sit and stare at Sam.
"Aren't you going to say something?" Sam asked his voice even shakier than it had been a few minutes ago.
"Nah, I'm okay." Dean had said, lying his face off once again. Then he'd gotten up and walked over to Sam. "You gotta do what you gotta do." He'd said as he'd patted Sam on the shoulder and then walked out of the room. And he hadn't seen or spoke to Sam again until that night that he'd shown up on Sam's doorstep.
"Hey, there's a motel at the next exit." Sam said, a little enthusiastically, snapping Dean out of his reprieve once again.
"A good hot shower, and some sleep, and I'll be okay..." Dean said smiling as an image of his face melting away flashed through his mind. Really, how many times could he lie his face off to Sam, and expect to see that same face in the mirror the next time he looked?
Dean just nodded, stared forward at the cold asphalt ahead, and pushed his foot down on the gas...