A/N: Before I begin I am sorry to my reviewers (if you read Inuyasha) that I haven't posted a new chapter for Moonlight Tears (Inuyasha). I have been debating on how I want the story to go and the options are ridiculous and I thank those of you who have stuck with me on it but I can tell you that the next chapter will be soon because I have finally decided on what to do with it and hopefully you aren't disappointed. Now for the REAL authors note. LOL

This is a little thing I made for the episode Asylum on what I think (okay more wanted to happen) after Asylum. It takes place a few days later and I haven't seen the episode after it but I am pretty sure this isn't anything like it's gonna go but I like this story and I hope you do to. Please read and review, Enjoy! This is Sam's P.O.V and pt.2 or chapter 2 is Deans which I will hopefully be posting in under a week, just got to get all the kinks worked out. Here you go! Oh and P.S, I am not too good with chapter titles so please bare with me :D TY

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the beautiful boys in it! But…I do however own the title little dance for melittle dance for me…..stops and stares…heh…um…anyway… I don't own them so please don't sue me!

Part 1: Chapter 1:

G.I. Joe to Teddy Bear

Sam's P.O.V

"You know sometime…you are gonna have to tell me." Sam said as he sad down on the faded blue blanket that was the blanket of his bed.

And he knew, with just one look of them…that they were going to be itchy. Sam shook his head, berating himself for his A.D.D imitation as he looked back over at his brother who was pulling miscellaneous things from his brown duffle bag, clothes, deodorant, dagger, just the usual things. Sam saw Dean shake his head and could nearly tell what the reply would be. Sam still couldn't figure out why he cared so much but it was amusement, so he had to know.

"Only in your dreams, Sam." Dean said as he placed the polished dagger under his pillow and placed the duffle bag on the floor, leaving the other things still on his bed.

Sam felt a twinge in his heart, and had corrected in his mind, "Sammy". Dean hadn't called him Sammy for a little less then a week, ever since he …no, Sam wasn't going to go into that. He wasn't going into the fact that he had nearly shot his brother.

Dean made his way to the bathroom, a large white, folded towel in his hands.

Sam stood up from his place on the bed and walked over to stand in front of his brother who had the smuggest look on his face and Sam could only wonder how fake it was.

"You know, I will find out." Sam said, although his voice betrayed his thoughts.

He just somehow knew that no matter how hard he tried, he could never figure it out. Dean was way too good at keeping secrets and had been like that since they were kids. From Dean hiding his tennis shoes to lying if the wounds on his body were hurting. Yep, Dean had always been good at keeping secrets, and in this case…it was no different. But he wondered how long Dean could keep this from him. Of course it wasn't that big of a deal but he couldn't help his curiosity. But his mind began to drift form his original intent and back to what had happened back in Rockford. That was another secret Dean was keeping. But Sam wasn't so sure he wanted that one to be revealed.

It wasn't some normal supernatural gig they had come back from. Normal was probably the most far fetched word in that sentence but for them, supernatural was normal. Sam had thought for a moment he saw a flash of pain pass through his older brothers' eyes but it was quickly diminished as Dean's façade made itself known.

"Whatever, Sam" Dean said as he closed the bathroom door, and by the slight click, Sam knew it was locked. Sam registered that the answer was not to his recent thoughts but to his past curiosity. But this Asylum thing was killing him. Sam rested his head on the wall right next to the door and could tell, by some weird brother thing he had with Dean, that he was doing the same. Things were stressful with the brothers. Sam had wanted and needed to talk to Dean, to tell him he loved him. But Sam knew that Dean wouldn't let Sam get past "we need to talk". And he had every reason too. Even if Dean had said he believed it when he said he knew he didn't hate him…he couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't truth.

Sam stood up straight and walked over to the bed and laid down, his eyes looking at the ceiling but not really seeing it. His mind was so heavily coated with guilt that it had no room to register that his subconscious was shaping the mold.

Sam had said he would give his life for Dean, and he had gone and had nearly let some crazy doctor take Dean's life away. Sam clenched his eyes shut. He could remember everything from Dr. Ellicott tricking him downstairs, to Dean's fist flying at his face. Sure there was a good few moments in between where he couldn't recall what happened. You don't just get a full on punch from a man with seemingly brass knuckles and stay conscious right after to tell the tale. Sure he had been slightly conscious but another punch sure made being awake impossible.

"You hate me that much?"

He shook his head, the images flashing before his mind like a slideshow.

"…you are pathetic…"

At this point, Sam had slapped a hand to his forehead.

Click

Click

Click

He had pulled the trigger, but he hadn't pulled the trigger. And not only had he pulled and not pulled the trigger but he pulled and not pulled the trigger three times. Sam shook his head again, realizing that he was making sense but not making sense all at once. He growled to himself, relieving him of the sense did/did not phase he just had as he stared up at the ceiling. He stared at it in disbelief.

The mold had a sentence. "Click". Sam quickly rubbed his eyes before seeing that the mold had become, once again, just mold. Sam sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and resting his arms on his legs, hands clasped. Not only was he feeling guilty, but mold was telling him he should be. Sam's thoughts were disrupted as heard the loud screech of metal on metal as the shower was turned off. Sam shook his head, reminding himself that if he kept doing it that his head might spin off. He hadn't even heard Dean turn on the shower.

"Guilt deafens the ears and blinds the eyes. Resolution is the miracle to cure both." Sam whispered more to himself then to the mold above his head. Sam could remember where he heard that saying. It was a gig up in Ohio in a little town called Ellet, a quaint place with more human problems then supernatural. While there he and Dean had encountered a girl who had helped them with the killing of a few werewolves that had been crushing up the place. He couldn't exactly remember her name, only that she was a teenager and had been into the whole Supernatural world.

Right before leaving she had given them a small wrapped metal symbol and had said the words that Sam's mind had decided to bestow upon him. A week later they had used the symbol in a case where two ghosts had decided to fight because they had guilt issues. The symbol had awakened their inner most thoughts and the ghosts had resolved the problems, their spirits disappearing. Sam looked to the bathroom door and down at his duffel bag. The symbol only worked on ghosts but it was clear, he needed to make up with his brother. He had to some how get to Dean's head, tell him he loved him without being accused of being a girl with chick flick moment issues and making a good amend with his brother.

Yeah right.

But it was hope and Sam had always been a great believer in hope.

But then again…this was Dean Winchester…Mr. G.I. Joe himself.

Sam clenched his fists as the words came back into his head of the horrible things he said to Dean. Sure he didn't like being bossed around and that Dean followed everything Dad said mindlessly but he sort of understood and hated that Ellicott made it sounds so out of place.

Sam's head whipped around as heard the bathroom door open and watched as a towel clad Dean walked out of the bathroom. He didn't fail to notice the new bandages on his brothers' chest... How could he when his brother was walking around in nothing but a towel. Sam watched as his brother walked over to his bed and rummaged through the clothes he had picked out. He changed them. And he didn't even ask for help and I know he did. Rock salt even cleaned out has a bitch of an after affect.

"Stop staring Sam, or people might think you are an incester."

Sam blinked a few times, decided whether or not he could start up a conversation with Dean about what happened but as he saw the bandages he backed down and decided to just play Dean's name calling game and take a shower. He couldn't face Dean. He couldn't face the pain he might see in those hazel, green eyes and knowing he put them there. Before the seconds ticked by too quickly Sam retorted to Dean's usual remark.

"Incester isn't even a word, Dean." Sam said as he stood up from his bed and grabbed his duffel bag.

"Yeah well either way, you are a disgusting type of guy" Dean said as he turned to Sam.

Sam gave a forced laugh before turning and heading to the bathroom which was a good three steps away. How could he manage? He had nearly made two steps when Dean spoke again.

"You alright Sam, you look like shit. When's the last time you slept?" Sam turned his head slightly. Dean was picking out the random objects and weapons that had been folded in his clothes.

He looked like shit too but he had different reasons. Sam looked back to the bathroom.

"I'm fine, just been having some rough nights of sleep." Can't get the Asylum out of my fucking head. God…Dean…

Even as Sam thought this, he couldn't help but feel more like an ass. Here Dean was, still hurting from the Asylum, his strong front on full blast, and fussing over his little brother. Sam quickly stepped the last step into the bathroom and shut the door with a light click. Locked. Sam sighed. He knew Dean wouldn't buy it but he needed to escape the worried gazes from Dean that he didn't deserve.

Sam heard Dean shuffle around a bit. Probably getting dressed. Sam thought as he set his duffle bag on the closed lid of the toilet. He looked up in the mirror and clearly saw why Dean had asked. He had semi-large bags under his eyes, which were tired and starting to become blood shot in a few areas. His face was dirty from just a few hours ago after dealing with a ghost that turned out to be nothing more than a very badly put together gas pump.

Either way, the house was blown up but no one was hurt. The family hadn't believed them about the gas leak but had thanked them repeatedly for destroying the "ghost".

Sam could remember Dean's words in the car as they returned to the motel they were currently in.

"You would think if you smelt gas that you would automatically check out the pump. But I guess that's what you get when the only type of gas you know is the ones that come out of your ass."

Sam smiled, despite his reflection, at the memory. The people who had lived in the house seemed to be the Beverly Hills type, rich and oblivious. Sam walked over to the shower and started it, the familiar screeching once again shaking every nerve in his head as the hot water poured thickly from the shower head. Sam removed his clothes, leaving them rest in front of the sink as he let the warm water run over his tense muscles.

How had things gone so wrong? Sam could feel himself drifting into a painful daze so he rubbed his face under the water and forced his mind to remain clear, which was surprisingly easy. After a good 10 minutes, the water had gotten cold and the twenty minutes of hot water ceased to be. Twenty minutes of hot water, that's more than we usually get. Sam turned off the water, his hair still dripping wet as was the rest of his body as he wrapped a towel from the metal hanger around his waist.

Sam took the half step to his duffel bag and dug through it, his mind in automatic as he searched for the clothes he wanted to wear. Not that it matter, they all consisted of pants and shirts and would be dirty by next week. Nothing special. He was just about to pull his hand away with the clothes in his grasp when the back of his hand brushed across cool metal. Sam, with his curiosity getting the best of him, pulled out the object to find it was the metallic symbol from Ohio.

He stared at it a moment, his eyes wondering over every cress of the object before lying it gently back in the bag. He had to resolve things with Dean. Even if he had to tie Dean to the bed. Sam was about to walk out the door before he looked down and then back up at the cheap wood door. Maybe he ought to get dressed first. After quickly changing and placing his dirty clothes in his bag to clean later, he walked out of the bathroom, the brush of cool air wiping around him. How hot had the water been exactly?

He found Dean lying on his own bed; his things now back in his duffle bag and fully dressed with the exception of shoes and socks. He was flipping through the channels of the television. Sam could tell by the expression on Dean's face that he wasn't even paying attention to what he was flipping through. Sam laid his bag on the floor near the foot of the bed before sitting down. He gathered up all the strength he could, which seemed to be his lowest quality at the moment before speaking.

"Dean?" Sam said and saw his brothers head fling quickly to his direction, an empty yet somehow surprised gaze on his face. He had been right, he wasn't paying attention.

"Yeah?" Dean said as he turned to the T.V to turn it off before looking back at his brother and then looking up at the ceiling, giving him the gesture that he was listening.

"Dean…we…uh, need to talk." Dean looked at Sam from the corner of his eyes, his face holding no emotion as he looked at him. "Sam, we don't…" but Dean was cut off as Sam stood up, his voice following cue. "Yes, Dean, we do. Look, I know you told me not to but I'm sorry. It wasn't me saying those things at the Asylum. And you are gonna listen because I know you don't believe me" Sam was now walking around near the entrance his voice firm which had surprised them both. Sam for the shock that he sounded so strong when he felt so weak and Dean for the fact that Sam was giving orders. Dean sat up, his eyes staring intently at his folded hands as he thought.

Sam saw his face get blank before changing completely into a Dean that was so rarely shown and he got the sudden urge to back down. But he couldn't. Not until Dean and him got things resolved. "Sam…" Dean started, his voice taking an unexpected hitch, as if he couldn't breathe. Sam couldn't help but think he did this. He had to fix it. He did this, he had to fix. He kept repeating it like a mantra before Dean spoke again.

"I don't know what's going on. And I will admit that I don't know what it is I understand right now. But…Jesus, Sam…I…I just…"

Sam waited for him to continue even though he already knew what was coming and he slowly stepped forward a step before stopping. If his brother was going to be vulnerable, he needed his space, and Sam could tell Dean was grateful when his shoulders slouched a little after Sam retraced his step back.

"You shot me."

It had come out as a whisper an almost inaudible sound, but Sam had caught it and had wanted desperately to throw it back.

"Dean I'm sorry…please, it wasn't me."

"Sam I know you are trying but…" Dean trailed off and for some reason, Sam got angry.

"Dean can you please do something to try and make this better!" Sam yelled and before he knew it, Dean was standing up, his face not only of anger but of pain.

"What the hell am I supposed to do here Sam? Tell me and I would gladly abide to your fucking wishes! How do you expect me to get the image of your hate directed at me out of my head?" Dean yelled.

Sam stood shocked, his voice leaving him. So he was right…the façade had been just that. Each time Dean had said he believed him, it was a façade. And now he was paying the price. Sam couldn't shake the look of hurt radiating from Dean, who was clearly trying hard to hide his pain and hurt and anger but failing miserable.

There was no going back now and he had to resolve this. He loved his brother and this was not how it was supposed to be.

Sam watched carefully as Dean took a few steps back before resting himself against the back of the small rooms' wall.

"Dean, please. I could never, ever hate you. It was Ellicott, you have to believe me. Dean you are my brother. From painting to my first fire arms practice. Losing you would be…" Sam trailed off, not wanting to think about it.

Dean was his back bone, his sole thing in the world that had been constant. Dean had always been his safe guard, even since the days back when Dad would leave. Dean played the superman to scare away the shadows that were, in-fact just shadows. He had played the Santa Clause even after John had told them it was a lie. He had been the shoulder to cry on when he scraped his legs and his protector in harsh storms. And even as they got older…Dean had been there, making sure he did his homework and didn't kill himself studying. Sure they weren't as extreme as Santa Clause to a 4 year old but he had been there.

Dean and Sam had taken the blame for each other so many times, that it was hard to remember who really did do what.

While Sam had been at Stanford, Dean had sent voicemails and text messages, which he now regrets for never returning. Dean had even one Christmas left a box of goods; even if in them had been a box of condoms and an address for a strip joint a mile down the road. But there had also been some M&M's and a little G.I. Joe. When they were little, around the ages of 10 and 6, and Dean would not know how to calm his brother, which wasn't too often, he would hand him a G.I. Joe and told him that even if he wasn't the best protector or always around he would be strong for him like G.I. Joe against Cobra.

Back then Sam didn't realize what it meant but he had understood when he hit his teen years.

Sam looked up at his brother, whose head was bowed slightly as if thinking. What was he thinking about? Sam wondered in his mind. After a moment, his brother looked up at him, and Sam could have sworn he saw light. And right then, he had known his brother believed him. "How could you remember painting? You were 6." Dean said and Sam saw the almost care freeness back in his brother and couldn't contain the smile. Sam couldn't answer, but somehow he knew his brother understood.

And before another word could be spoken and before the blink of an eye, teddy bear Dean Winchester had once again become G.I. Joe Dean Winchester. "If this ever leaves this room Sam, I swear I am going to kick your ass." Dean said as he walked over to his bed and got under the covers. Sam nodded at his brother, realizing that after that he deserved a little of being listened to but come morning, when he was to be woken up by his brothers stupid antics, he would not be so kind.

Sam smiled as he mimicked Dean's actions, thinking of all the tricks he could pull when they were doomed to sit in a car for hours on end.

Should really being stuck with Dean be a doomed situation or a blessing?

"Don't forget to turn out the light pansy."

Sam shook his head as he got up and out of bed to turn the lights off.

Yeah, it was still a doomed situation.

"Yeah okay whatever, Jerk" Sam said, knowing Dean had told him to because he knew Sam would have gotten into bed already.

"Bitch." Sam smiled at the names, ones they had invented from middle teens. Just as Sam was about to fall asleep to what was hopefully a dreamless sleep, he heard his brother talk.

"G' night Sammy."

Sam smiled a smile so bright that hadn't been seen since Jess died. He could see again and he could here again.

"G' night Dean."

And as Sam heard Dean slowly fall asleep, he brought one more thing up that he had nearly forgotten,

"And I will find out if you got turned down by that girl."

Had Sam paid attention, he would have heard something along the lines of a strong sting of curse words and would have seen the pillow that was flying towards his head.

End

A/N: Okay so what did you think? This was my first posted Supernatural story and it might suck but work with me here. Anyway, the second chapter will be Pt.2 and Is Dean's P.O.V so if you don't care for his point of view then don't read it but you know that little purple button down there is beckoning you to just push it for this chapter! Its saying "Review!" Okay so maybe it's in my mind but still please review I would love to know what you thought…unless you are flaming then maybe not so much. Later! Oh and sorry if they are out of character a little. Thank you for dealing with me! I Love you all for doing so later! Again…