Author's Note: My very first, and likely only, Wincest fic. One-sided Dean/Sam. Dean loves Sam in a very unbrotherly fashion, but Sam is not interested at all. Takes place after Mystery Spot. Non-canon Castiel appearance, though he only appears as "mysterious man" rather than "Angel of the Lord". Gabriel/Sam mentioned of course.
Never Enough
"This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?"
The Trickster's words kept echoing in Sam's head. Watching his brother die...the trickster had eventually stopped his morbid joke after Sam had pleaded with him, but it still didn't stop haunting him, what Loki had said. Dean would die...without Dean, Sam almost felt lost. The Trickster had told him that too. The Trickster knew more about Sam than he himself did. Sam rubbed his head with a hand, he had a major headache. Not even Dean's extra strength pain pills were doing anything today.
Dean watched his brother, in pain, sitting at the kitchen area table. That damned Trickster...just had to try and fuck Sam's head up even further. Sam was in enough pain as it was, knowing that Dean was going to die. Dean didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave his Sammy. His little brother, whom he loved more than anyone in the world.
He would be lost without Sam, much the same way he was sure Sam would be lost without him. As he watched Sam get up and take another pain pill, a twinge went through him. Sam...the only one he'd ever truly loved, besides his mother and father of course. But Sam...Sam was here. They weren't.
Even when he was making love to all the chicks Sam chided him about, it wasn't them he was making love to. He hated admitting it, felt disgusted with himself, even. He loved Sam. REALLY loved him. Not the way a brother should love a brother. But the way a man would love another man, or a woman. Dean wanted his brother in every way a man could want someone.
He wondered if Sammy felt the same way about him. He knew Sam cared so much about him that he was willing to die for him, to...beg, plead, with asshole tricksters for him. The trickster was a being so powerful he could have killed Sam with a snap of his fingers, but he didn't. Somehow, Sam had convinced him to bring Dean back to life. What Sam had done to get the Trickster to do that, Dean didn't know.
Tricksters weren't demons, so Sam couldn't have made some deal. Perhaps it was just Sam's naturally charming personality. Dean rolled his eyes. Yeah, and monkeys will fly out of my ass. No way the trickster would have been convinced just by Sam's begging, which was what Sam made it out to seem like.
Dean went over and sat at the table with Sam.
"You okay, man? Sure that trickster didn't fuck with you in more ways than just giving you a headache?"
Sam gave Dean an odd look, almost laughed, then shook his head. "No, Dean. I told you already. I just...begged him to bring you back, and he did. Thats it. I didn't even have to threaten him or anything."
Dean raised an eyebrow. A little jealousy crept into his voice. "Think maybe that trickster asshole likes you just a little too much." Dean put an arm around Sam's shoulders, holding him close.
Sam sighed and leaned on his precious brother, not mentioning that the trickster most definitely did like him a little too much. "It doesn't matter anymore. We've likely seen the last of him for awhile. I think my threats got to him. I threatened to violently murder him if he didn't bring you back."
Dean was touched, but joked with Sam anyway. "Yeah? What kind of stake did you threaten him with this time? Flesh or wood?"
Sam glared at Dean. It was almost like Dean knew he and the trickster had...no. Eww. Just no. He put that morbid dick out of his mind and just hugged his brother. So glad to have him back, alive, warm, in his arms again.
The older Winchester gripped Sam tightly, not wanting to let go. His precious, precious Sam. Dammit. What would Sam think if he knew what Dean was feeling right now? His feelings that were so damn WRONG, but felt so right to him.
"Sammy...maybe you should get some rest. I mean, you had quite an ordeal. And you had to deal with asshole, what, a third time?"
Sam wondered if Dean knew he and the trickster had...talked...before, since he'd said three times, and they'd only seen him together twice. No, it was likely just a mistake on Dean's part.
"Sam, uh...I..." Dean didn't finish. He wanted to tell Sam how he felt, but didn't want to push him away, especially after such a horrific ordeal. That would almost be like taking advantage of his love. Still, he HAD to tell him sometime, and if he was going to die soon, he at least wanted Sam to damn well know how he felt.
"Dean? What? What is it? Look..you're not going to die. Okay? We'll find a way out of this deal thing-" Sam was cut off as Dean suddenly gripped his shoulders, and kissed him. Not in a brotherly way, but in the same way he kissed many of his women friends. Sam felt the heat and passion behind his brother's kiss. Eventually, Sam pulled back.
"Dean, what the fuck? What...I mean, just...what?" Sam rubbed his lips, where Dean's had been just moments before. "I don't understand...why did you..." He gave Dean an utterly baffled look. They were brothers, but not...lovers. Sure, they were closer than most brothers, but not THIS close.
"I, I'm sorry Sammy. I just...if I'm gonna die, I wanted you to know how I feel. How I've always felt. Yeah, we're brothers, I get that. But, man, I love you. Not just like a brother. You're the only one who's been there for me, fought for me...made me feel like I was loved. How could I not love you?"
"Dean, I...I'm sorry. I don't...I can't...feel the same way. I love you. I do love you. More than anything. But not the same way you love me. I love you like a brother...like my older brother. The person who took care of me when dad wouldn't. The person who...sold his soul to die for me, to bring me back to life. But I can't love you the same way you love me. I just can't." Sam sounded as if he were about to cry.
He didn't want to tell Dean this, but he had to. He loved him, so much. More than ANYONE and anything. But just not in that way. He didn't want to hurt Dean.
"Look, Sammy, I didn't expect you to...well, feel the same way anyway. I just had to tell you, you know, before I...kicked the bucket. Figured, hey, if he hates me afterward, fine, I'm gonna die anyway! So yeah. Uhm, bye, I guess." Before Sam had time to respond, Dean quickly exited the motel, leaving Sam confused.
Dean walked around aimlessly, until he came to an empty alley. He leaned against the dirty wall, and slid down it, sitting on the equally dirty floor. "Why did I have to KISS him? Why couldn't I have just told him? Man, he probably totally thinks I'm a sicko or hates my guts right about now. I guess its a good thing I'm fucked and I'm gonna die soon." Dean groaned and hit his head on the brick wall.
"Maybe you're not." A deep voice, odd, and strangely familiar.
Dean stood up, hand on his gun. No one usually got the jump on him like this. A strange man was standing in front of him, wearing a dirty-white trenchcoat and some type of suit getup. "Who or what the hell are you? And what do you mean, maybe I'm not? Maybe I'm not going to die? Pal, I sold my soul to a goddamn demon. There is no way out, at least not that my brother or my pals could find."
The man stepped a bit closer to Dean. Dean saw that he had brilliant blue eyes, and was very...pretty? He couldn't exactly find the right words for it, but this man was definitely feminine pretty, and his eyes were like goddamn jewels, they were so damned blue and brilliant.
"Maybe you're not...fucked. Not doomed to die. And even if you are...maybe death isn't the end. You sold your soul for your brother's life. He was brought back to life. Who says that you can't be brought back from Hell?" The man appeared to have a hard time saying 'fucked', as if he didn't swear often. He still hadn't told Dean who or what he was. He seemed to be actively avoiding that question.
"You still haven't answered my other question, bud. WHAT or WHO are you?" Dean kept the gun level at the man.
"I can't answer that, Dean. Not yet, anyway. Perhaps you'll remember me when next we meet, or perhaps you won't. But I'll remember you, Dean Winchester. You're...a brave man. You love your brother in two ways. As a lover, and a brother."
The man seemed to think about this for a few minutes. "Perhaps someday, you'll find someone who loves you back, as a lover. Sam loves you, even now. He doesn't hate you for...loving him in a way you think is inappropriate. He just meant what he said. He can't love you that way. Sam's heart belongs to another."
"Dude, his girlfriend is toast. She snuffed it a few years ago. Sam can't still be pining over her, and I haven't even seen him fucking a single chick since we started hunting together. So shut your piehole about Sam. You don't know anything about my brother."
The man was pissing Dean off now. He wanted nothing more than to empty his gun into the asshole's chest. The man just shook his head, as if he were totally exasperated with Dean.
"I never said anything about a woman, Dean. It doesn't matter. Just be happy that your brother is happy. Or will be, in the end. Maybe. I can't tell the future. I just do what I am told."
"Yeah? Who told you to come here and harass me? You the Trickster under there?"
The man almost laughed. "No, Dean. I am no Trickster. I...no one told me to come here. I just felt your pain and...wanted to come to you. I had to tell you that, just maybe, death isn't the end for you. And maybe you can stop acting like you're...fucked...for awhile and think about what you're going to do when you're out of Hell."
The man stared at Dean a few minutes, with those brilliant blue eyes and that pretty, almost feminine face. No demon could be THIS pretty. Dean snorted. No demon would try to comfort him either. So what was this thing? This man? It didn't matter. It didn't appear to want to harm him. It hadn't done anything but talk to him and try to comfort him about dying.
Dean put his gun away and turned from the man. "Okay, yeah. Fine. Whatever. I'm...leaving now. I'm gonna turn my back on you. If you're gonna attack and kill me, now's the perfect time." He started to walk out of the alley. No attack came. No footsteps followed him. Just the man's voice, one more time.
"Farewell, Dean Winchester. I will...see you later. Once you're out of Hell. Your brother doesn't hate you. He never did, and never will." The man's voice faded. Dean turned around. The alley was totally empty, not even a muddy footprint where the man had been standing. He just shook his head and headed back to the motel.
When he entered, Sam was still sitting up, as if he'd been waiting for Dean. Apparently he had. He stood up and rushed over to hug Dean.
"God! I thought you'd just run away on me! Look, Dean, just because I don't...have feelings for you...it doesn't have to change anything. You're still my brother. I still love you. Okay? I...lets just...I don't know where to go from here. I want to find a way to save you from dying. Going to Hell. Brother or lover...it doesn't matter what you think of me as, I am still your brother and want to save you."
Dean leaned into Sam's hug, enjoying the feeling of warmth and closeness. He and Sam would never be more than brothers, he knew now, but it was still more than he could ask for. To have a brother as wonderful as Sam.
"I...when I was, well, when I ran out. I met some guy. I dunno what he was. He wasn't a demon, and he wasn't the trickster. But he said...that maybe Hell isn't the end of me. Maybe...I'll get out. I dunno. Thats just what this guy said. He was like, girl-pretty and had these big blue eyes. He didn't look evil. So I just, believe him I guess. I'm not scared anymore, Sammy. If I die, its not gonna be the end of me. I'll fight all the damned demons in Hell to get back to you. And Bobby. I can't just leave you alone. I mean, without me, you might, I dunno, shoot yourself accidentally or something."
Sam laughed slightly, though he was still trying not to cry. He hadn't wanted to hurt Dean at all. Apparently, his rejection of Dean's affections had hurt him, but Dean still loved him. Still would fight to stay alive. It was all Sam could ask for. The brothers just held each other, neither trying not to cry anymore.
Outside the motel, the man Dean had spoken with watched them. Castiel, angel of the lord, came of his own will to see Dean when he had felt his pain. The pain of his brother's rejection. Castiel sighed. Dean was a strong person. He would overcome whatever life threw at him. Would he remember Castiel? Castiel hoped so. He didn't want to be forgotten by the elder Winchester for some reason. Castiel would save him from Hell, if he had to. The angel leaned against the wall of the motel, out of sight of the brothers, and wondered if helping Dean really was the right thing for him to do.