Holding on Tight, Chapter I

Dean is slipping. His hunting skills are waning, home life nonexistent, and concerning his brother more and more each day. What can make Dean start to lose the only thing he has known since his childhood? Rated T for language. May be rated M in the future to keep my options open. Interesting AU. MAY CONTAIN WINCEST AT A LATER DATE! Don't get too attached if you don't like it.

I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I'm not making money off of this, I swear!

PLEASE REVIEW

They had been hunting them for over six weeks now, and this mistake was the most intense yet. Sam was only yards away from the Pack Leader, with Dean just steps behind. Machete poised for the kill, Sam was just about to end the creature's life when the leader's mate attacked from the flank. Aimed at Sam, she, more or less, missed her target and ended up colliding haphazardly with Dean, ending in a crumpled entanglement of limbs and desperation on the soft forest grass. Stunned, Dean struggled to get a good hold on the strong creature, which kept squirming around his advanced wrestling pins like he was a puppy playing with his sister.

Dean tried to gain the upper position, but in an instant the Alpha Female had him pinned helplessly to the ground. She opened her mouth to speak, exposing her dirty White fangs. She lunged for Dean's Carotid, only as Sam came from behind and carved off the being's head as though it were the twig of an Oak Tree.

Splattered with dark red blood, Sam helped his brother from the cold dirt without uttering a sound. Silently, the two walked back to the Impala, both knew the Hunt would not continue. The alpha male was, by now, long gone with the rest of his clan, exempting his mate, who lay rotting under a copse of White Maples. Once again, the hunt had failed.

Dean walked into the motel room, shutting the door behind him gently. Turning on the lights, he just made out Sam's right foot pass the threshold into the bathroom, and abruptly slamming the entrance shut. Dean screwed up… Again. This was the third time this month he had let the vampire clan escape, although this was the first time he had let that bitch of a vamp get the best of him. How could he let it get so close to ending him?

Frustrated, he sulked over to the Kitchenette, opening the refrigerator to find only cold pizza and Sam's yogurt. Nothing particularly numbing, Dean started walking towards his room, stopping in front of the bathroom door.

Dean looked down. He wondered at the light escaping from underneath the door, spreading across the dimly lit carpet with ease. He listened to the shower, hot water, pelting the plastic tub. Dean wished he was under the warm jets, soaking away the cold he felt from Sam.

Ever since he had come back from Hell, things had been different. Sam was receding, and Dean had no idea why. He first realized Sam's introversion a few weeks after he came back. He started to put in less input, started to just go with the flow, almost dangerously so. Soon it just turned into silence, with the only reaction being a shrug here, or a nod there.

One hot summer night, Dean just couldn't handle it anymore. Dean snapped. He cried at Sam, in some desperate attempt for help from his brother. Things in his brain were not right, with the whole death thing, and Alastair's torture episodes that still came back to haunt Dean in the Early hours of the morn. After that, Sam shut down, becoming all but a supernatural assassin, killing everything remotely questionable in sight.

Dean had no clue why Sam was so silent these past few months. Tonight was really the first time Sam had shown any actual emotion, albeit anger and frustration… possibly. Truthfully, Dean saw the door slam as a sign of improvement. This was the first time Dean didn't have to guess his brother's mood. It may be ironic, but at least it was something.

Dean looked up from his bed at the clock in the middle of the rom. 3:12a. God, they had gotten back to the room almost two hours ago. Has Sam really been in there this whole time?

Dean could still hear the water running in the next room. He got out of his cozy respite and went to the door of the bathroom, knocking loudly.

"Sam! Think it might be time to come out of there, don't ya' think? I mean, come on, is there any hot water even left?"

No answer, as expected. The water continued to run after a few seconds.

Dean slammed even harder on the wooden door.

"SAM! Come on! You gotta' get out! Hurry your ass up, huh?"

Annoyed, Dean went back to bed, sliding under the sheets and waiting for that incessant pounding to stop.

Seven minutes later. Seven, mind you, the hiss of the pipes ceased. Dean could hear Sam pull back the shower curtain, creating a shriek loud enough to wake the sleeping dead.

Dean was just starting to doze off when Sam walked in, and got in bed. A bed that squeaked and moaned as though it were some demonic mouse, poised to strike at Dean's possibility of a few hours sleep. Which it should, considering Sam had also turned into a restless sleeper, tossing and turning most of the night.

Great. Another sleepless for night for Dean, only left to think about his desperate and delicate situation once more.

So, there is my first chapter in Holding on Tight! Please remember to review!

Just so you guys know, this story is being loosely based off of another story I've written, but have not posted, considering it's currently not in my possession (Long Story…). When it is, though, I'll be sure to post it!

I'm planning on updating at least once a week, with each chapter being around 1000 words. Sound good?

If you have suggestions, or would like to beta this story, please feel free to contact me! I'm open to anything anyone is willing to offer me.

Thank you for your support!