Title: A Blue Fountain of Fire

Warning: Wincest

Note: AU;Preseries; Sammy is at college.


You wonder: if you had seen your friends in the parking lot, would you have still pulled Dean in for that last kiss?


It was Wednesday morning when your brother had shown up at your door. You were on your way to class when the rumble of an all too familiar engine drifted through the open window.
"What's up little brother?" Dean's voice was raspy. It had only taken half-a-second for the metallic scent of blood to hit your nostrils.

You didn't have time to reply as Dean's knees buckled and your arms automatically shot out to catch him.


You figure that if you had managed to see Kate, Brian, and Darius that, well, you probably would've held onto Dean longer, not wanting to return to the life you had escaped from just yet.

And that was the problem whenever Dean was around – you couldn't think about anything else.


By Friday, Dean was awake and could even move around without help.


You didn't look forward to answering the questions your friends would have for you. So you didn't look at them, just watched as Dean strutted his way back to the Impala, bringing the beast to life, and roaring off.

You hadn't even glanced in their direction when you went back inside, fighting the emotions that threatened to consume you like a wildfire amidst a year-long drought.


It was on Saturday that Dean told you about the two vengeful spirits – brothers who had been betrayed, then murdered by a family friend.

Dean had taken care of one of the spirits easily enough – but this only pissed off the other one. So Dean had been thrown against a wall and then to the floor. From the floor he had been flung through the door of the crypt and onto the hood of the Impala; and – just for good measure – into a small tree, snapping it in half.

All you could do was shake your head and wonder how it was that your brother was still alive.

"The look on his face once he realized his brother was gone," Dean didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to; you knew what he was getting at.

"Dean-"

Dean held his hand up to stop you. More frustrated than upset at the interruption, you grabbed the hand and jerked Dean forward, crashing your lips on his – apologizing in the only way you he'd let you.


It was Darius who knocked on your door, Kate and Brian standing behind him.

You walked up to the door, putting your hand on its wooden surface.

"Sam!" Darius' voice was filled with concern and maybe even jealousy. "Open up, Sam!"

Darius kept pounding on the door; the vibrations running through your hand and down your arm.

You leaned your forehead against the door; your hand lowered to the knob and turned the lock with a soft click.


"Sam," Dean's voice was low, guttural as your hands hit all the right spots.

It wouldn't be until late Sunday night, when you were lying exhausted next to Dean, that you realized his once horrible battle wounds were almost completely healed.


Kate was the first one to leave – she would be late to her physics class. Brian left a few minutes later.

You leaned against the door, drinking a beer and listening to Darius talk on his cell to his sister – Jessica. He was trying to get her advice about how best to deal with your "situation."

Jess – she was the only person in your circle of friends who had seen a picture of Dean. You silently thanked God that she hadn't been around. But, then again, you still might not have cared. You might not even have given your budding relationship with the young woman a second thought with Dean that close.

You take a long drink from the beer, relishing in the cold glass against your lips when you hear Darius' stand, pushing the lawn chair noisily against the cement.

"Alright, Sam," Darius still sounded just as determined as he did two hours ago. "You can either let me in, or I'll break your fucking window."

You knew that he would do it, too. You suddenly burst into a fit of hysterical giggling when you realized how much Dean and Darius were alike.

So you opened the door.


"Dean," you didn't know how to ask your brother why his wounds were healing so quickly.

"Don't make me lie to you, Sammy," Dean interrupted, his voice cracked and filled with a mix of desperation and sadness.

You searched Dean's face – not exactly sure what it was that you were looking for. So you nodded and Dean pulled you in for a long deep kiss.


"Where the fuck've you been?" Darius' infamous temper was lit and you could tell that you would be in for a long, long night.

You ignored the questioned and grabbed two more beers, tossing one to Darius as you sat on the couch.

"We've been trying to get a hold of you for a week," Darius spoke through gritted teeth.

Sam mentally ticked off the days and couldn't believe just how much time had passed. It didn't seem like it had been enough. But then again, with Dean, there was never enough time.

"Are you going to talk to me?" he was in your face now, leaning over you.

"Where would you like me to start?" you keep your voice level, your eyes blank.

"Who was that guy?" it doesn't surprise you that this is his first question.

"An old flame from high school," the half-truth rolls off your tongue smoothly.

"I thought you moved around a lot?"

"So did he; we ran into each other a lot. Our father was in the same business." Darius doesn't catch your mistake; instead he latches onto that last word.

"What kind of business?"

"The travelling kind."

Darius growled something under his breath as he took a swig.

"He was there before you were," the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

"That's not the point!" he whirls on you, pointing an accusatory finger. "You should've told me, Sam! Hell, you could've at least given us a heads-up about what was going on."

You know that you should feel guilty, but not right now, not when your brother's taste is still fresh on your lips and your brother's smell is still hanging in the air and your brother's touch is still burning on your skin.

"Is that all he was?" Darius' words cut through your reminiscing. "Just 'an old flame'?"

A part of you wants to lie, to tell Darius that yes, Dean was just another fling. And another part, the part brought closer and closer to the forefront of your consciousness with each beer downed wants to tell him the ugly truth.

You take another swig, letting the alcohol roll over your tongue and slide down your throat.

"What was – is, he to you?"

"Everything," you grin lopsidedly as you remember the days of the Hunt. "And nothing," your grin slides away as you remember the look on Dean's face as he loaded you onto the bus.

Darius' features soften.

"I betrayed him. I betrayed us – what we were and what we should've been," you're not sure if it's the beer that loosening your tongue or the lack of sleep – either way you find that you can't stop.

"His name is Dean and he was my first – everything. He was my best friend and my entire world. And, heh, and if anyone had found out about us we would've been put down like a pair of rabid dogs."

A silence passed over the room as you waited for everything to sink in for Darius. Finally, he spoke,

"What about your family? Did they know?"

"Mom's dead and dad's a drunk," is all you said.

"Don't you have a brother?" you could see that Darius was trying to wrap his head around it – he came from such a loving and innocent family. It made you sick, sometimes.

"Not anymore," your throat constricts and your chest begins to ache. "He died about a week ago. A blood virus."


It was the night before he left that Dean told you about the nest.

"There was more than I thought there would be," Dean said, his eyes on the floor. "I tried to get out of there but the master vamp came out of nowhere. He grabbed me from behind and the pain – Sammy, there's nothing like it. I passed out. When I woke up again, this guy was dripping his blood into my mouth."

You sat there shocked. You knew that perhaps you should be angry – but you couldn't muster enough strength.

"Damn," you shake your head and lean into the sofa cushions.

"Yeah," Dean stands, goes to the other side of the room to give you your space, to show that he is no threat.

"Will you turn me, too?" it came out as more of a request than a question.

Dean's eyes go wide.

"You shouldn't have to be alone, Dean," you rise and go to him.


"I'm so sorry, Sam," Darius puts a hand on your shoulder,

"Look," you meet Darius' eyes. "I'm taking some time off from school. I don't know when I'll be back."


You argued the pros, Dean argued the cons, and in the end, Dean gave up because he had never been able to deny you anything before. Why start now?


"What about Jess?" he had to ask. "She really likes you, y'know?"

"I know," you finish your beer. "I really like her, too. But Dean needs me; he was as close to my brother as I was. Sometimes, I'd swear they were the same person.

"Tell Jess that I'm sorry. Maybe someday down the road."

"Is Dean coming back?"

You nod in affirmation. "Yeah, in a couple of days."


Dean comes back in the dead of night four days after he left.

You wake up when he crawls into your bed, shivering with excitement and smelling like old leather and gun powder.

He asks if you're ready. You smile and kiss him roughly.

He grins against your neck and you can't help the cry of pain as he bites down.


"They said it was like an axe murder went down," Jess is still crying.

Darius tries to soothe her; he tells her about Sam's lover and how it was possible that he had shown up and saved the day.

"Wait, what was his name?" her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Dean. I didn't get his last name."

"'Dean'?" Jess muttered the name as she ran over to her phone. "Is it this the guy?"

Jess held up her phone, showing a picture of a picture. Sam – young and scrawny, holding a shotgun while an older teen pointed into the distance. Darius recognized the face: Dean.

"Yeah, that's him," Darius shrugged his shoulders. "So what?"

"This is Sam's brother."


When you left Stanford, sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala with Dean's hand resting on the inside of your thigh, you didn't even look back. You just watched your brother's profile and imagined the hell you two would raise together.

This was how it was supposed to be.

And you can't believe how much of a fool you'd been to ever try to leave it in the first place.