Chapter 1:

Sam never saw this coming, never thought it would happen again. Not in a million years he saw himself running away again. Running away from his brother like this, in the middle of the night, no warning whatsoever, just in the spur of the moment.

Things had started to change for him a while ago. It's not like it was surprising for him to realize he had fallen in love with his brother. Really, it was not, he had been following him his whole life, idolizing him, watching every move he made. It was just natural that his feelings ran deep, he needed his brother; it was second nature to him.

The first time he ran away, off to college, it had nothing to do with his feelings for Dean. He just wanted a chance to lead his own life, away from his father's crusade, away from all the madness.

In his time as a college student he studied, partied and met lots of interesting people. Obviously he experimented quite a bit, in fact, he experimented with a lot of things, one of them being intimate with another male. But even then, he never dwelled in his feelings towards his brother.

So when Dean appeared in the middle of the night asking for help to search his father, his sole purpose was to help him, maybe reconnect a little bit with him, but then return to his life as an independent man.

When Sam and Dean became 'Sam and Dean the hunters', he never once questioned his feelings. But oh boy, had he know how things would change, he might have took another path in life.

That's how he found himself right now. Sitting in a motel chair, staring at the sleeping form of his older brother, wondering exactly when he had fallen in love with him. When exactly did it become unbearable to him to watch Dean put himself at risk in the face of danger? How his feelings flaunted themselves at him every time his brother flirted with a bartender, harmless chatter that had him questioning his own sanity.

Sam couldn't find another way to solve his problem, but to leave for a couple of weeks, or however long it took him, to sort his head out, to find a way to be himself again.

He had already packed his few belongings, and was currently pondering what to write as a note for his brother. Nothing seemed appropriate. Maybe a 'Dean, I'm in love with you. I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen. But it never really happened, you know, I think I've always loved you, but now I just can't stand not touching you. I'm leaving so I can get back to normal, so I can be your brother again. I love you, Sam'.

But instead what he wrote was: 'I need some time on my own; I hope you'll understand. I'll be in touch. I'm sorry. Sam'

He took his bag and crossed the room 'till he reached the motel room door. He turned around for the last time, and took one last look at his sleeping brother. No words left his mouth, but his feelings of love, regret and sadness were plain to see in his watery eyes.

Shaking, he reached the doorjamb and left the room. Once outside he took a deep breath, reminded himself that this was the right choice, and slowly made his way to the town's bus station.

When Dean woke up the next morning he woke to a strange feeling of quietness. He wasn't used to not hearing Sam when he woke up. But he did not worry; he had probably just gone to the nearest dinner to get them breakfast. That thought brought a smile to his face.

Dean stretched his legs and arms still lying in bed, blinked a handful of times and yawned loudly. Still quite asleep, he made his way to the bathroom, looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. Oh yeah, today was gonna be a good day, he thought. After taking a hot shower and dressing himself, he made his way to the motel room's window.

That's when he realized something was off. In the reflection of the window he saw Sam's bed, all made up, and no bag next to it. He slowly turned around, his face the epitome of confusion, and took a tentative step towards said bed. His eyes were stuck on a piece of paper neatly placed in the bedside table. If his legs took him there, he did not know. The next thing he remembers is reading the note over and over, making no sense of it, not understanding what this all meant.

But when he fell down on his knees, the tear-stained note crumpled in his hand, realization dawned on him. His Sammy had left him, again, had abandoned him, after he promised that he was okay with being a hunter, that they were both now a team.

If Dean stayed on the floor between the two beds, one used and the other one untouched, for the rest of the day, well, no one saw him. And if Dean felt his heart shatter to pieces, well, no one was there to hear him.