FULL SUMMARY!

After the events which take place between Sam and John the boys are heading to Bobby's. John though, is suspicious of their relationship and tries to find out what is really going on between his sons.
When John and Bobby leave for a hunt, the boys are finally left alone for two days, in a place which is not a cheap motel room. In those two days Dean will give Sam his present for his upcoming birthday. A present which involves ties, a bed and Dean's magical hands tongue and... other stuff.
But when Bobby and John come home earlier than expected, Sam will have to make an impossible choice.
In order to protect Dean and not rob him of his father, Sam makes with him, what he will later in life remember as "The first Deal." A deal, which will cost him the most important thing he has. His relationship with Dean.

WARNINGS:

1)Non-canonon event, language, and Wincest (Sam/Dean)

2)Sam/Dean (Established relationship)

3)Sam is 17, Dean is 21

4) I own nothing, neither the Supernatural series, nor its characters. Only my...vivid imagination!

So,off we go! A/N

The night was clear and quiet, a gentle breeze was blowing, caressing the trees and their leaves, bringing with it the smell of spring. A smell of flowers, fresh water, and moist soil. Dean inhaled deeply, taking in as much of this smell as possible. For some reason, whenever this smell of spring reached his nose flashes of a spring years ago would pass before his eyes. Like random parts of a movie they would appear; faces and places, all blurred, images of a life he once had. His mother, young and beautiful smiling down at him, his father, so different than the one Sam had come to know...

His face was softer, his eyes filled with kindness and love... And in their arms they held a baby...They held Sam. And Sam wouldn't stop crying, not until he was placed in Dean's little hands. Then he would stop. And Dean could remember himself moving towards the open window slowly and taking a deep breath, taking in the smell of spring. Yes, it was spring back then too... It was the 15th of May 1983...

But no matter how hard Dean tried, he couldn't remember anything else from that day. He was too young back then...Dean's emerald green eyes blurred and the older hunter had to blink the tears away. He shoke his head and fixed his eyes on the road. It was pointless to try and remember more of those days, that, he knew for sure. So, he tried his best to keep this particular memory alive, tried his best, to not let it fade away and become part of a dream Dean wished he had lived, because this wasn't a dream. It was real. The older man let out a sigh and moved his right hand to where Sam was lying, head on his lap and body curled in a ball to fit in, on the front seat of the Impala. Dean run his fingers through brown locks, while his left hand grabbed the wheel for dear life.

The older man was driving slower than he could. He knew that with him behind the wheel of his "Baby" the distance between Omaha, which was the state they were at, and Souix Faulls could easily be covered in two hours and twenty minutes tops. But the older man kept himself in check for two reasons. The first was that the smell of spring evoked all those memories and Dean ended up pulling off the car to catch his breath and clear his eyes from their blur. The second reason was that he didn't want to wake Sam up.

The kid had finally drifted off to a more peaceful sleep than the one he was in at the first half hour of the drive, as soon as Dean's fingers started running through curly brown hair. Of course the older hunter would never admit this aloud, but he loved this feeling of Sam cuddling on him, this closeness, this trust between them. And he was glad for the darkness which was surrounding the highway, since, it hid both his blush as well as his smile…

The night had now fallen for good and the road was rather empty, given the fact that it was the middle of March. Dean's green eyes glanced at the screen of his mobile phone. It said 11:14, which meant he was driving for two hours and ten minutes now, and still had 83 miles to cover. This was not a problem for the middle Winchester, as he was used to long drives. Well, it wasn't a problem up to the moment two bright lights, illuminated the car from behind. The older man glanced at the driver's mirror and froze. The car which was behind them was no other than John's... "How the hell did he caught up with us?" the middle Winchester swore under his breath as he slowly pulled the Impala off the road, obeying to his father's nods, which he could see from the mirror.

"Shit, shit,shit…'' Dean swore repeatedly, as a feeling of fear and agony rose up in his chest. Were John to find Sam lying on the front seat with his head on Dean's lap, then they would both be in trouble. A need to wake Sam up overtook the older hunter, he couldn't risk their dad seeing them so close, or the possibility of him waking Sam up. No, anything but that.

Dean knew from experience their dad lacked, that when Sam was woken up with a shout or a hard shake, he would get scared and his puppy dog eyes would be filled with fear and guilt. If the one staring back at him was Dean, which was the case most of the times, Sam would need a moment, a moment Dean would gladly give him, to take a few slow breaths and let his eyes take in the image of his brother, alive and kicking, with his hand on his shoulder, with his kind green eyes filled with love and care for him.

Dean would rarely speak to Sam, he would just sit there, letting his younger sibling come back to him, back from a place of nightmares, a place where most of the times Dean had died horribly. But if the one waking Sam up was John, then the younger man would be on edge all day long.

So, as much as Dean may have hated it, he had no choice but to wake his brother up. "Sam hey, wake up buddy.'' he said, voice low, yet urgent. "Stop it... what…" Sam muttered as his eyes opened wide. "Hey, easy, it's me Sammy, just me, come on now, wake up..." Dean said, voice calmer than before. "Are we at Bobby's yet?" Sam murmured, voice sleepy. "No, Sam dad is right behind us, he wants me out of the car, probably to talk to me.'' Dean answered back, placing his palm on Sam's chest reassuringly, to prevent the younger man from moving too fast. "Dad? How did he caught-" "We don't have time for this, i don't know how, or to be honest, i do know, but we'll save it for later. I will keep his attention on me, so as soon as you get a chance you will go to the back seat, alright?" the older man said, voice, once again, urgent.

"Dean, i have to talk to him." "No, you will stay in the car, do i make myself clear? I don't want to get another punch anytime soon." Dean said half joking, but Sam, whose mind was still fogged by sleep, did not understand the meaning of what his brother was saying. But before Sam could utter another word, Dean was out of the car.

"Dad, you need anything?'' the green eyed man asked, his voice rather edgy. "I spoke to Bobby, he said that what killed the young boys is a witch, and he said he found some lore about how to kill

her." The older man answered while giving Dean a thin old book. "What's this?'' asked Dean, his voice filled with more anger than he thought he had put in the sentence. "A book, as you can see, which I found in my stuff, it contains information about witches in general." "Why bother with it? Bobby has a tone of books, he may have this one as well." Said the middle Winchester.

"Dean, i said nothing earlier, when you stormed out of the house, and decided to head out to Bobby's. But enough is enough, you will not talk to me like this again! Now, this book is the lore about witches like the one we hunt. So, if your brother can do us the honor to get out of the car and translate this, it would be a good thing." John yelled loud enough for Sam to hear.

After a few seconds in which Sam didn't make an appearance, John decided to take matters into his own hands and started moving towards the Impala. Dean's eyes widened as he saw his father turning around. His body moved in a blink of an eye, if not faster, his right hand grabbing John's wrist in a vice-like grip. "Haven't you caused enough damage for one day dad? Let Sam get some rest, he was a wreck when I found him!" the middle Winchester said, his voice filled with bitterness.

"Oh, for the love of God Dean! Stop being such a drama queen! Sam is fine, he is not made of glass like you think and a few true declarations will not kill him! He is not a kid anymore Dean, he can't, he is not allowed, to sit with you on the front seat, with his head on your lap, or do you think I didn't noticed that?"John said freeing his wrist from Dean's hold as if it was the hold of a five year old child.

The younger man froze for a splinted second and had to blink his eyes in order to keep his self under control and not freak out. But as soon as he did so, the image of Sam, kneeling on the road, wet to the bone, and crying, begging for forgiveness, hit him like lightning. No, he never wanted to see his brother like that again, he wouldn't allow anything, or any one, to mess him up like that again. Not even their dad. "Not... Not allowed? Since when do the 'normal rules' apply to our way of life dad? I am his brother and i will-" But the middle Winchester stopped talking the second he heard the door of the Impala opening and then closing again. He turned his face towards the car, even though he already knew what he would see.

Sam was moving towards them, his hazel eyes shining. Hell, those eyes, tired, red rimmed, yet so very alive, tear filled- but not tear dropping- puppy dog eyes. Those eyes, which could make Dean surrender to Sam in a million ways, remained the same, ever since Sam was three years old. And now they were fixed on Dean... With his bottom lip quivering, probably from exhaustion, Sam had to clear his throat in order to speak. "You don't have to yell dad, now give me the book and lets keep going." Sam said voice surprisingly calm.

"Its in Latin I want you to translate as much as possible until we reach Sioux Falls." The older man ordered his son. "What? No, dad its late, he can do it tomorrow morning-" "I said, now, Sam." John repeated leaving no space for an argument. Sam's hazel eyes were still red rimmed but he said nothing, he just waved his head in approval and pleaded Dean with those astonishing puppy dog eyes to follow him in the car.

The older hunter did indeed, follow Sam, but after a few seconds, John's voice echoed loud and clear in the air. "Sam you will sit on the back seat of the car." "Excuse me?" Dean asked, sure he had misheard. "You heard me son, Sam takes the back seat." The splinted second that followed silence could be cut with a knife. "Dad what-" "Do you think of him as a freaking taxi driver dad? Is that what your son is now?" Sam said and Dean could swear he heard the crack of Sam's neck as he turned around to face their dad.

Oh, how he secretly admired Sam, for his ability to stand up to their father, to stand up, not only for himself, but for Dean as well."He is, if I say he is." John answered and Dean felt like he had been slapped. "Words do mean so much more..." Sam had said a few hours ago, and now the green eyed man could finally understand him.

"No, I won't do it." Sam said glaring at their dad. "Fine, as you wish Sam, there is always an other way to do this." John answered and in three large steps he covered the distance between him and the boys and moved his hand to grab Sam's wrist. The younger man tensed and got ready to do something, anything, in order to avoid his father vice-like grip, because he knew what would come next. John would make him join him in the car he was driving. But before he could do something, he felt strong, callused hands pushing him aside and saw Dean placing himself in the middle.

Sam's eyes widen as they took in what was happening. Once again, Dean was using himself as a shield, standing between Sam and their dad."If you ever, I mean, ever, try to put your hands on him..." Dean whispered, once again grabbing John's hand, "If you ever touch a hair out of his head, dad, I swear...You will come face to face with the perfect grunt you have created." Dean said, voice low, threatening.

"There it is again, that voice and that move which seems to be automatic."thought John. In the past two and a half hours, the older man had started piecing things together. Things which had been right there, before his eyes, for more than a year now. The way Dean behaved around Sam, the little, almost casual touches, the protectiveness his older son had when it came to Sam... And the final piece was what had happened earlier that day.

The way Sam talked about Dean, the determination and passion the devotion and love were clear in his voice as he spoke. Then, the way Dean stormed out of the house... At first John thought he was delusional, but now he could see what was happening between his sons. And the picture which was starting to appear, more complete now than before, made him sick.

The older man sighed in defeat, a defeat he wanted, because even now, there was a part of him which opposed to the thoughts of Sam and Dean being together. After all, he hadn't see them doing something. Dean let go of his father's hand and the older man stepped backwards and then turned around heading towards his own car.

The two boys did the same, as soon as John had close the car's door. They returned to the Impala and both sat on the front seat of the car, waiting for their father to start of the engine of his own and lead the way. "Hey, Sam...What you said out there, to dad... it was... I mean...Thank y-" Dean started to say but before he could utter one more word, the younger man interrupted him.

"Don't you ever say that again." "Say what, Sam?" the older man asked as he started the car. "That you are nothing more than a grunt. 'Cause, you are not, you are so much more." Sam whispered, but left no room for an answer because the very next second he opened the thin book their dad had given him and buried his nose in it. "Sam, you don't have to-" "You heard him, Dean. I am doing what he... 'ordered'. I am saving you from the trouble of getting another punch in the face any time soon. Which, as you know, you would have gotten, had dad been less sober." the younger man said, eyes fixed on the book. "As long as I am the one getting it, I don't give a crap Sammy." Dean thought.

Dean signed, but said nothing, this wasn't neither the right place, nor the right time for an answer. So, the green eyed mam, did what he could do at the moment. He turned on the radio, lowered the volume so as not to disturb Sam from his reading and translation of the book, and fixed his eyes on the long road, which was seemingly spreading as far as the eye could see. He grabbed the wheel and seeded up the car, with only one thought of comfort in his head. That somewhere down that endless road, Bobby's home was waiting for them.

A/N: End of chapter 1
I hope you like it!