Title: How Not To Keep A Secret
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC
Pairing: Dean/OFC
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None

Summary: Dean has a bad habit of keeping secrets from Sam but this one doesn't really come as too much of a surprise when he actually thinks about it. And unlike most secrets this one actually helps Sam – it gives him hope for his own future too.

Huey Ratner had been an arsonist in life and it seemed like a little thing such as death wasn't going to get in the way of that particular hobby. Considering that he'd actually died in one his own fires Sam would have thought that perhaps the guy might have learnt his lesson. Apparently not.

Sam, Dean and Izzy had managed to track the spirit to a hardware store just on the outskirts of town. No real reason why Ratner should decide to target this place. He just was, as Dean so eloquently put it, a bit of a dick who liked destroying things. Being dead probably suited him actually since it seemed to make his work a whole easier.

Whatever the motive they had to stop him. Prevent him from causing any more damage and then get over to the cemetery for your average salt and burn. Easy.

Apart from the fact that Ratner seemed to take exception to their plan and tried to move up in the world from arson to outright murder.

Izzy had waved them to go on without her when they'd arrived, having just received a phone call from Ratner's mother regarding where he was buried. She'd left a message on the woman's answer phone earlier in the day, saying that she was an old acquaintance of his who wished to go pay her last respects and had asked her to call back.

Sam and Dean split up when they got inside the building. It was a large place and they needed to cover as much ground as quickly as possible. Ratner wasn't known for hanging around and waiting or taking his time – he was more of a 'burn and go' kind of guy.

Sam didn't know if he was the first to come across the flaming spirit form of Huey Ratner but he knew he definitely wasn't the last. The spirit had come straight for him, obviously meaning to set him alight along with the building around him but Sam had quickly fired rock salt straight into the heart of the ghost and it had vanished in flash of flame. He was just looking for some way of putting out the small fires that had already started around him – as well as wondering how effective the salt would be considering it'd dissolve with the temperatures involved - when he heard the sounds of more gun shots from somewhere else in the store. This was quickly followed by the sound of a small explosion and the sight of a whoosh of flame flying over the top of one of the aisles. Even though it was nowhere near him, Sam ducked instinctively. He assumed that Ratner had must have gotten near some chemicals or something and that they'd gone up with a bang.

The sprinkler system was woefully inadequate in the circumstances – although to be fair it had never been designed to deal with an instant flash fire caused by a ghost – and soon everywhere seemed to be alight. Sam had no choice but to run for the exit as the roof creaked ominously above him. The supports were heating up and starting to buckle and it wouldn't be long before the whole thing came down. They may have failed in their attempt to stop Ratner causing any more damage but at least they could still get to the cemetery and stop him permanently.

"Dean!" he hollered in a warning that was both pointless and unhelpful. If Dean was okay he'd already have come to the same conclusion as Sam – the building was a lost cause and they had to get out of there before Ratner claimed two more victims. If he was hurt then chances were he was in no fit state to hear Sam let alone cry out for help in response. Sam couldn't imagine though that Dean, with all his experience, had been floored by Ratner. No, Sam just had to trust that Dean was okay and had enough common sense get his ass out of there.

Running down the increasingly damp aisles, the sprinklers only serving to make the floor slippery and him wet, Sam skidded around the corner near the exit and almost thankfully slid straight into Dean, his brother grabbing him firmly by a handful of jacket to keep them both upright.

"This isn't going quite how we planned, Sammy," Dean pointed out.

"No," Sam agreed, his words given added weight when they were punctuated by the sounds of more small explosions from the back of the store.

"Cemetery?" Dean asked.

"Cemetery," Sam agreed again. This was definitely a lost cause.

Suddenly the shelf a few yards behind them flew apart as the flaming form of Huey Ratner burst its way through, coming straight for them both.

Dean's shotgun rang out loudly over the sound of crackling flames and he and Sam didn't stop running until they were well out of the door and onto the street. Hurrying back to the Impala, both dripping wet and covered with grime and soot, a thought struck Sam.

"I hope there's no cameras about," he said a little uneasily, glancing about him to see if there were, "People are going to start getting suspicious if we keep being spotted at the scene of these arson attacks."

Dean chuckled grimly, "Oh I don't know. Arson would spice up my criminal record pretty nicely. It'd give some variety between all the murders and assaults written on there."

Sam rolled his eyes, looking skywards and he might have made mention of the fact that Dean seemed to be a bit too casual about his status as a major felon when his sharp eyes noticed something.

"Where's Izzy?" he asked with a mild frown. Sam wasn't given to panic. He simply didn't fly off and think the worst as soon as a potential problem reared its head. The fact that she wasn't at the car where they'd left her was a cause for concern, an issue that needed to be brought up but nothing to panic about quite yet.

Dean however did have an unfortunate tendency to take a more grim outlook on life at times. Now it seemed was one of those times although why it should be that way Sam wasn't sure. The amused smile instantly fell from his face and Dean's quick paced walk became a jog as he hurried back to the vehicle. He immediately looked into the car. Then around it. Then even under it before standing up and checking all around them, scanning as far as his eyes could see. Sam meanwhile had pulled out his cell phone and was holding it to his ear as he rang her number three times, getting no response at all.

"Anything?" Dean asked, looking at him hopefully even though he must have known the answer.

Sam shook his, "No. It's going straight to the voice mail."

"Damn it..." Dean muttered under his breath and proceeded to look around again, even going so far to recheck under the car although why he thought she may have miraculously appeared there since he last checked, Sam didn't know.

"I don't think she's here," Sam said, stating the obvious as he looked around too, double checking just in case he'd missed something. It wasn't like Izzy was helpless or anything. She'd proven on more than one occasion that she was more than capable of looking after herself. But in their line of work though when someone suddenly disappeared it usually wasn't a good sign and that thought was already playing on his mind.

"Well where the hell else can she be?" Dean asked almost sharply, like it was Sam's fault she wasn't where they'd left her.

A much larger explosion than they'd heard so far made them both jump, instinctively ducking slightly, preparing to throw themselves to cover if it proved necessary. As Sam looked across a fireball flew from one side of the rapidly disintegrating building.

His face blanched as a horrible, sickening possibility crossed his mind.

"What?" Dean asked, seeing Sam's look and not liking it one bit.

Sam didn't know if Dean was being dense or if his brain was just point blankly refusing to even consider that the issue of the burning building and that of their missing friend may be related. That Izzy may have finished her phone call and gone inside to see if she could help them.

There was a loud crash as the roof collapsed in and somehow that seemed to jump start Dean's thought process. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly as he came to the same realisation that Sam had. His expression might almost have been comical if it wasn't for the circumstances and the look of cold fear in his eyes.

"Shit..." he muttered almost breathlessly.

Sam read Dean well, stepping in front of him and grabbing him firmly by the shoulders before he'd gone more than a few paces. Dean tried to shove straight through him, eyes fixed on the burning wreckage. He could feel Dean's heart absolutely pounding in panic as he barged against him.

"Dean," Sam said and, when his brother just continued trying to get by, he said it again, louder this time, "Dean! Don't be an idiot. No one in there is going to still be alive."

Dean glared at him for daring to say it but he knew Sam was right and he backed down, breathing hard like he'd just run a mile. He walked away a few paces, kicking the curb furiously before he bent forward, hands resting on the hood of the Impala.

Sam was by his side in a few large paces, hand on his brother's shoulder. Dean took responsibility for everyone around him and he was obviously taking the idea that something had happened to her particularly hard for some reason. Sam had to admit that the possibility that she might have been in there, that she might be... Well the thought that something had happened to her made him feel pretty sick to his stomach too but he wasn't prepared to give up on her just yet. If they were capable of making it out of there then so was she.

"Hey," Sam said, reassuringly, "We don't know she was in there. She could be just fine."

Dean straightened himself up, looking right at him.

"And what if she's not?"

His face was absolutely ashen and it only served to make his suddenly red rimmed, scared looking eyes all the more prominent. He looked like he'd just be dealt a huge gut blow and it instantly made Sam wonder what it really would mean to Dean if she wasn't okay.

He never got to ask though as there was the sound of running footsteps and then the sweetest sound of a recognisable voice.

"What the-? Can I not leave you boys alone for five minutes without you wrecking the place? You were supposed to be going in there to stop him, did you forget that?"

She sounded pissed at them but Sam just grinned, utterly delighted as he slapped Dean on the shoulder in triumph and then hurried over to her, pulling her into a tight, grateful hug.

"Sam?" she mumbled against him, stiff in his arms, a bit taken aback by his reaction, "Were you sniffing the paint thinners in there or something?"

He pulled away shaking his head looking mightily relieved.

"For a moment there we thought you'd got trapped inside the building or something."

"What?" she asked a little thrown before the realisation hit her of what they must have thought when they'd come back and found her gone, "Oh! Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. Sorry."

It had been a bit careless of her – after all one of them could have been hurt attempting to go back in and find her – but there was no harm done and she looked suitably mortified for having momentarily put them in a panic. He was just glad she was okay though. Crisis averted.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Dean it seemed was not so easy going on the matter. In fact his voice was angry and the look on his face positively thunderous.

It was a testament to the fact that she had a pretty steely disposition that she didn't back down when he was in one of those moods. Sam supposed she'd gotten well used to arguing with Dean by now though. They'd hardly been the best of friends since they'd met. Still they had seemed to have gotten on a bit better of late and he hoped that this wasn't going to lead to a relapse into their usual sniping.

"Phone box," she explained, calm and apologetic in the face of his accusing eyes, having learnt quickly how to handle him, "The battery on my cell phone ran out before Mrs Ratner could tell me the address of the cemetery."

She smiled a little, trying to lighten the seriousness of the mood, trying to move them on.

"Boy can that woman talk, I mean, to listen to her you'd think her son was the most darling little angel in the-"

No more words came as Dean covered the gap between them in four strides and grabbed her. For the tiniest moment Sam had the shocking feeling he was going to have to break up a fight which really wasn't like Dean at all.

Nor was what he actually saw in fact.

Dean's mouth crushed instantly to hers, kissing her hard with passion and relief. The way she kissed him back, arms running up his chest and wrapping around his neck, seemed to suggest that this wasn't the first time this had happened.

Sam stared dumbfounded for a moment, jaw slackening slightly at the very unexpected sight, eyes blinking in surprise.

After a moment of being as heated as the blaze across the street, the kiss cooled and Dean's hands slid up to cup her face, his lips brushing softly against her mouth a few more times before pulling away, resting his forehead against hers as he took a moment to steady himself.

The tenderness there turned the uncomfortable feeling Sam had momentarily gotten into something much warmer and he smiled. This was certainly an interesting development.

Oakfield Cemetery was dark and thankfully free of angry, flaming spirits. Wherever Huey Ratner was he was seemingly oblivious to what the Winchester's and Izzy were up to which hopefully meant that the rest of the night would go without a hitch.

Sam and Dean were in the grave, digging it out as quickly as they could whilst Izzy stood over them holding a flashlight so they could see what they were doing. Somehow she always managed to talk her way out of doing any of the actual digging. Sam supposed she was allowed to be a bit girlie about some things though.

The ground was thick and heavy and was giving them a hard time. Izzy had joked that two big strong boys like them really should not be making such work out of this which had earned her a glare from Dean and a huff of bitter laughter from Sam.

Shortly after there was the sound of splintering wood and a loud curse of frustration as Dean tossed the broken handle of the shovel straight out of the hole. Izzy ducked as it missed her head by inches.

She gave Dean a questioning look.

He mumbled a quick apology, wiping his perspiration covered face on the front of his t-shirt, leaving dirty hand prints on the material.

"What did they bury this guy in?" he complained loudly, "Concrete?"

"Let me take a look."

Sam watched interestedly as Dean automatically reached up for her, his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders as he helped her down. Izzy didn't notice anything, crouching straight down to check out the ground more closely with the flashlight, but Dean saw the look Sam gave them. Dean instantly tried to pretend that he'd seen nothing, that there was nothing for Sam to witness but his expression was akin to a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Besides, Sam reasoned, there was little point in his brother playing innocent about the fact that there was something going on between them when not too long before hand he'd pretty much had his tongue down her throat.

Nothing so far had been mentioned about the kiss. As soon as it was over and Sam had had opportunity to ask, sirens had been heard in the distance and they had decided to get the hell out of there before they were found at the scene. The journey to the cemetery was short and Izzy had used it to explain exactly where they'd find Ratner's grave. Once there they'd gotten straight to work, professionalism coming before questions about their personal lives.

Sam had thought a bit about it though. Once the initial surprise had died down he had begun to realise that perhaps he should have noticed something before. They were arguing a whole lot less than they usually did and whilst that didn't necessarily mean there was anything going on between them it should have been a first clue that things had somehow changed. Sam had quickly dismissed the idea that perhaps it was just sex. If it was Dean wouldn't have looked quite so mortified when he'd momentarily thought she'd died and nor would he have treated her with quite so much tenderness and affection when he'd found out that she was okay. No, to Sam they seemed the reactions of a guy who was falling for a girl pretty badly.

Despite his bluster, front and air of indifference about the matter, Sam knew that deep down Dean wanted to be loved just as much as anyone else. He was only human after all and he wasn't yet jaded enough to have given up on the idea. Whilst he would no doubt baulk at admitting such 'girlie, chick flick crap' as he'd likely christen it, he seemed to be a bit lonely too. He, as always, put up a good front but Sam was beginning to see the cracks appearing more and more as they spent time together. He began to realise that Dean probably did have some regrets about the fact that he'd never had an opportunity to really fall in love or to have someone in his life for longer than a week. That he resented the idea that there was a good chance he would never have any of those normal things in his life that guy's his age began to want.

Sam had gotten the impression that Dean had always purposefully run away from anyone or anything that he could become too attached to. Maybe it was professionalism, somehow feeling like he was letting dad down if he wasn't concentrating one hundred percent on the job. Maybe it was fear, scared that if he had something it only meant he had something to lose. Whatever it was Sam couldn't blame him for finally giving in, for his resolve finally cracking. Izzy was a great girl after all and Sam could see why he liked her. Besides, Dean had spent so long looking after others it was about due time he got a little something back for himself. Sam knew from personal experience how good it was to have something outside all of this hunting and death. He wanted that for himself again someday and he wanted it for Dean too. He wanted his brother to be happy. And if Dean could do it then there was a hope for something similar in his own future. Besides, it let him off the hook a bit; he never truly would have been able to leave Dean alone out there, still hunting, whilst he ran off and had a family of his own. But if Izzy proved to be around to stay it made things very different indeed. For all of them.

So it was for both their sakes that he silently willed whatever had started between Dean and Izzy to go somewhere. He wanted it to be the start of something that would last.

"No wonder it's such hard work," Izzy said, scooping up a little of the soil and rubbing it between her fingers, shining the flashlight on them, "It's full of clay."

"Well thanks for your considered opinion, Miss Expert," Dean said dryly, as usual caring more about the practicalities than the whys and wherefores, "How about giving us a hand?"

"Sure," she said brightly, "I'll go get you another shovel."

Dean rolled his eyes but let that go. Climbing out of the hole he reached back down to help her up. When she was safely out he placed one of his hands lightly on the small of her back for no apparent reason as she moved past him. Sam didn't know what it was about that gesture but it always screamed intimacy at him and it convinced him even further that whatever they had it was more than a fling.

When he thought about it he had seen signs in the past few weeks beyond them simply not arguing - Dean helping her with grocery bags, buying her drinks or opening doors for her – but Sam hadn't put two and two together until now. He hadn't had any reason to really. He didn't know how long it had been going on but they'd managed to be remarkably subtle about it. Normally when Dean got with a girl he'd brag about it with a cocky grin, giving Sam all the details until Sam declared very firmly that he didn't want to hear any more.

Sam knew full well that in some areas of his life he had a bit of a low opinion of his brother, that there were some things he disapproved of in a way. How he was around girls was one of them. Dean liked them pretty, willing and disposable. He liked a girl who was fun but with no strings, who he could get into bed for the night and then kiss goodbye in the morning. It had been that way right since their teenage years. Much to Dean's own disdain, Sam had never felt the same way. As soon as he'd gone beyond the experimental stage of making out with random girls and had moved on to actual girlfriends Sam had come to realise that he preferred it by miles. He liked being with a girl that he knew, he liked being comfortable around her and being able to talk. As he'd gotten older he'd also come to appreciate how much more satisfying sex was when you were with a girl you really cared about, how that mixture of physical and emotional made everything feel so much better. Dean had just scoffed at that, saying that it couldn't be worth the hassle of all the other crap that came with being a boyfriend. Sam didn't know if he was bluffing, putting on a face to protect himself or if he truly believed that. Either way Sam had felt sorry for him. He never said anything though. Dean would kick his ass if he ever thought that he was an object of pity for his brother.

And now? Well there really was something a bit different in the way Dean was acting. He was still very much Dean but there was something new there. Sam had never seen him be like this around a girl before. He supposed that even the most stubbornly single of men could change if and when a potential right girl came along.

Looking up at them, Sam just caught glimpse of her placing her hand momentarily on Dean's shoulder blades as she walked past, fingers reaching up and lightly trailing through the bottom of his hair. The movement was easy and natural for her. Sam was unsurprised. He didn't think she'd be so bothered about him knowing what was going on; Izzy always was fairly easy going about things.

"I'll be back in a minute with that shovel," she said before adding with a wry smile, "Or, you know, a JCB if I can find one."

With that she walked off and Sam couldn't help but smile a little at Dean.

"What you looking at?" his brother asked defensively.

" Nothing," Sam replied, smile widening.

Dean sat himself down on the edge of the grave, feet dangling inside and Sam climbed up to join him. Dean pulled out his hip flask whilst they waited, taking a sip before offering it to Sam who decided that water would be better but that it would do in the circumstances.

Sam laughed quietly to himself as a thought struck him. Brother's all over the world probably did this; sat and talked about a girl one of them was seeing whilst having a quiet drink. Few of them he would bet did it whilst next to an open grave though, waiting for said girl to return to with a shovel so that they could continue digging the occupant up. That was their life all over really. Moments of normality mixed in with things that would be crazy to others, yet which they themselves had gotten so used to that they didn't even notice how weird they were anymore.

"What?" Dean asked in response to Sam's chuckle, still sounding defensive.

"Nothing," Sam said again, smoothing his features out and leaving a long pause. He didn't want Dean to think that he was laughing at him. Far from it in fact. He felt like congratulating him.

He'd always wanted to have the opportunity to do that. He remembered how much it meant to him when Dean had muttered a quick but nonetheless sincere 'well done' when he'd told his brother that he'd got into Stanford. He knew Dean wasn't pleased, knew that his dad was furious, but at least his brother had said something even if he wasn't happy about it. He wanted to be able to congratulate Dean someday too and for something more than how he'd just blasted a spirit away or how easily he'd picked through a lock. He wanted to congratulate him on getting engaged and married, on finding out he was going to be a father and the birth of his children. To be able to do that had once been the wish of a young guy who had badly wanted to believe that there was a normal future waiting out there for his family. The likelihood of it happening had faded as time had gone on though. Even when he'd been briefly free of that life Sam had begun to wonder if he'd ever see his brother and dad again. If he'd marry Jessica without them ever meeting her. If they'd ever know their nieces, nephews and grandkids. For a long time he had truly begun to believe that even if he himself managed to leave the life of hunting behind that for Dean it was all there would ever be. That it was too ingrained in him for him to be able to want anything else.

Now there was that slight amount of hope again. He knew it was way too early to be thinking about things like that but even the renewed possibility of them made him smile. It made him able to believe too that his own future could still be that way. That hope somehow seemed to push back the darkness they lived in, reminding him that there was another world out there too and it was a possibility.

"So..." he said after a long silence, "You and Izzy..."

Dean looked at him and then, seemingly unable to help it, he grinned. It was an expression that Sam saw on his face all too rarely – not cocky, grim or amused but happy, really enjoying life for once.

"Yeah..." was Dean's only reply but the affirmation was enough.

Sam just looked at him steadily, "It's about time dude. Seriously..."

Dean laughed a little.

In truth Sam had had no wise vision about it, he hadn't had any great revelation that they would somehow be perfect for one another and that it was only a matter of time before they realised it too. He guessed his visions didn't stretch to matters like that. But now, when he thought about it, when he saw them together he came realise that it really could work. And he was going to do what he could to make sure they got an opportunity to try.

It wasn't a bad mission to have in life; kill the evil demon stalking their family and make sure that his brother lived happily ever after. Seemed like a good plan to him.