In the beginning, Sam did everything out of revenge.

Having good grades, making friends, partying...He did everything thinking "See, Dean? i'm doing what you wanted! Now are you happy you stupid prick?". But Dean wasn't there. Sam even thought going out with boys. But he couldn't. He didn't have a lot of experience with girls either. A few kisses. And a little more. But nothing serious, nothing Dean-esque.

He needed to bond with people, he needed intimacy. He couldn't understand how Dean could casually have sex with pretty much everyone. Without love. It was just like his relationship with food. He can eat the worst chemical pie, just because it says pie on the box and because he's hungry. Sam had always loved to cook. And then of course, there were his feelings. For Dean. When it started, at first he thought it was a curse. Or a succubus. Because it began in his dreams.

He woke up terrified, needing to take the hottest shower he could until his skin was almost burnt so he could calm down. He had always loved his brother, worshipped him even. He had always been jealous of Dean's girlfriends but it was because they were dumb, because they took him away. Because they made him drink. Because... It wasn't what Dean really needed. He needed love, and he was running away from it. Sam couldn't understand why. He asked Dean about it only once, when he was fourteen.

"Why don't you try to have a real girlfriend Dean?" Dean had replied something like I like to be unattached. Like loving makes you weak. But you love me, said Sam, does it make you weak? And Dean laughed and said "It's not the same Sammy...but yeah I love you of course I do. I'd die for you, you know that. But if it's for you I don't care". Sam was puzzled, "why don't you?".

"Because we're family".

That seemed a little too simple. Shortly after, a few weeks after his fifteenth birthday, the dreams began. The first one was very simple. He had a nightmare, as usual, and went straight to Dean's bed, cuddling against his brother's chest, putting his ear over his heart, listening to his heartbeat. And then Dean said something like "Are you ok baby?", and Sam didn't react at the word, in the dream, it seemed normal, casual. He said "yeah, I'm good", and then Dean touched his cheek, kissed him on the nose, then on the lips, and said "go back to sleep then".

The first time it happened, Sam went straight outside and almost had a panic attack. And that dream came back, over and over again. With others. Others more and more intimate.

Dean noticed Sam was waking up everynight looking scared, and wondered why he didn't come to him for comfort anymore. Well he was probably too old for that now. Sam tried to understand what demon or creature could provoke that. And after lots of research, holy water drinking and many different hex bags he understood there was no demon. It was him. Just something deep inside him which was awakening at night. Something utterly terrifying.

It began to influence his day life. He started to notice how handsome his brother was. How he liked his eyes, his smile. He had always liked them. At first he tried to convince himself he just admired Dean, that he wanted to be like him. So he asked his father to go hunting alone with Dean so he could learn everything his brother had to teach. He naively thought that if he reached Dean's level, he wouldn't admire him that much and the dreams would disappear.

He was so terribly wrong. He saw how fierce Dean was, how protective. How loving. Dean couldn't stand Sam being hurt or threatened. At night he always patched him up, trying hard not to hurt him. Taking care of him. Being oblivious of himself. Sam always needed him to save his ass, to warn him, to help him. And Dean was always so patient with him. Never angry, always explaining everything several times but still saying "I'm proud of you, you did great" when he knew he almost screwed everything up. It would have helped if Dean had been a little bit more like their Dad. Like moody, aggressive and wanting to be called sir. Dean truly loved him. And that made everything worse. Because there was no way Dean would have the same kind of fantasies.

But sometimes, he thought he saw something in Dean's eyes when he was walking around shirtless. He thought he felt something in Dean's touch whenever he pat his shoulder or hugged him. But he could be wrong. He was so inexperienced, after all. He knew loving his brother, desiring him,even, was wrong. Well, supposed to be. But he wasn't hurting anyone, was he? And if this love made him anything it was even more loyal to his brother. And happier. Happy to have him in his life, happy to have someone who loved him so much. And Dean would never have to know.

So, as he couldn't decently spend his remaining days on Earth hating himself, Sam decided there was nothing wrong with love. Turning a shitstorm into something positive had always been his way to cope with life. We're moving again? Good! The next place will surely be interesting. Dad is gone for three weeks now? Yay, more time with Dean. He had always known he had to do that in order to survive, so that's precisely what he did. Loving your brother is supposed to be wrong and twisted, according to everybody? Fine! We're not everybody.

If Dean had accepted to follow him when he asked him the first time, he would have never told him anything. They would have left for California together, they would have shared a place, and Sam would have kept on concealing what he felt. But Dean had to say no, he had to speak like John, talking about duty and treason and it drove Sam mad. And then deeply sad, when he started to belittle himself again. So Sam just let go and when Dean kissed him back, he couldn't stop the tears from falling. He was right. Dean loved him back. But Dean being Dean, he had to turn it into a hurricane of guilt and stiff moral values.

Thus, when he arrived in college, he thought he could find a guy who looked like Dean and have his ways with him. But he soon realized that it wasn't going to happen. He wasn't attracted to other guys, or to guys for that matter. His attraction to Dean was based on love, and his dreams, though intimitate were more tender than explicit. He knew he wanted Dean's touch, but he didn't know exactly how. But he did know he didn't want anyone else's. He didn't want to cheat on him. Which was really stupid since they were not a couple, since they had never done anything or would ever, and since Dean really wouldn't care. Except if it was to tell him "well i've always known you were gay", and laugh about his music tastes.

When he met Jess, he thought she was a nice girl and that was pretty much it. But there was a kindness in her that made him feel safe. She saw right through him from the very beginning, she saw there was something behind his easy going character, and she was the first to notice. To ask him how he was when he thought he faked a perfect smile. To invite him in her family for Christmas, when they were still just friends, so he wouldn't stay at the dorm, alone. He had said something stupid like "We're not very Christmas spirit in my family", and Jess had hugged him and asked "just think about it ok?", and he came over. She had a very nice family, with normal parents, a little sister, a big brother, and a dog whose name was Buddy. A few months before he would have laughed at them. Those white-picket-fence people with their Christmas sweaters and their golden retrievers, knowing nothing about how terrifying life actually was. They seemed carefree and balanced. Happy. He felt hate boiling inside him and then just sadness that he tried to cover with laughs and smiles. He was so used to pretend it came naturally.

But after dessert that night Jess caught him crying in the bathroom, over Dean, over his family, over all these moments he had never lived, and the tears wouldn't stop falling. Too much tension. Jess just took him in her arms and began to chant "you're ok, i'm here, calm down baby i'm here, you're ok". And he calmed down. And kissed her. To thank her, he thought, or just because she was there, or maybe because of the words she said. But anyway, it's how it began. Because she was unusual. She didn't judge.

He told her a story about his father being a bounty hunter, dragging them around on his missions while looking for their mother's murderer. Jess said it could seem romantic if they were in a movie, but that in real life, that was just plain wrong. "We're not in the wild wild west anymore Sam. Your Dad should have let the police do its job and give you a normal life". That was exactly what he thought and it was nice to see someone else agreed. Dean always said that it was normal to want revenge. But it wasn't. "Sweety, your Mom is dead, your Dad should have moved on. I can't believe he wanted you to stay with him, that he wasn't even proud of you going to college. Sorry Love but your Dad's a dick. I'm proud of you".

She didn't see him leaving as a betrayal, she saw it as a healthy choice. He started to really, really like her.

There first time together was Sam's first, but not Jess's. She guided him gently, and made of this moment a delightful and tender one when usually the first time is kind of a disaster. He never said he was inexperienced, and she never mentionned it, or asked about his exes. She just accepted him as he was, without question, because that was the kind of person Jess was. Making love with Jess was sweet and passionnate. There was no violence and no desperation. It was miles away from the raw hunger that possessed him whenever he was close to Dean or whenever he dreamt about him. And actually, the dreams stopped.

He really fell in love with Jess, and he didn't think it could be possible. His heart had always been filled with Dean. Dean took absolutely all the available space. And now he was away, Sam found out there was actually room for other people. Friends for example. Girlfriends. He found out he could also be genuinely happy, like, happy without a second thought. Happy without "yeah but tomorrow we may as well be dead".

He understood what Dean meant by "you have to go away from the darkness". Dean tried to save him, again, by letting him go, by forcing him to bond with other people. He thought about calling him, to thank him, because since the bus, he hadn't heard of him. But he didn't. He was afraid. He couldn't tell him something like since I'm away from you I've never been better or I don't miss you so much finally. He would have to lie, and Dean would know.

Since now he had plenty of time to read he found himself once, in the psychology section, reading books about dysfunctional families and he really recognized himself in the description. He understood he fell, he thought, "in love" with his brother because he lived such a stressful life that he needed comfort. And so did Dean. It was like being in prison, or being taken hostage. They were always together, always alone. They could only rely on one another. That's why their relationship was unhealthy. That's why brotherly love turned into...whatever it turned into. Because of the lifestyle. Now that he had a normal life, he felt like he could heal from it, that he could love his brother in a healthy way, and also help him get better. He tried to call him, to see how he was, but the phone number didn't work. He wrote a letter and sent it to Bobby's, but he never got an answer. So he tried to move on, to live on.

Time flies when you're happy, and two years went by like it was nothing. Sam and Jess were living together, already thinking about engagement, marriage and children. They had a solid group of friends. Studying had never been so interesting. And he hadn't heard of his brother and father since he left.

And then Dean appeared: John had disappeared on a hunt and he needed Sam's help.

It wasn't true. Dean was actually missing Sam like crazy and didn't know how to come back in his life after two years. Two years he spent hunting, fucking and drinking. He did fall in love though, with that girl Cassie, but it didn't last. After that, Dean thought he was not made for long term relationships, that he never was, and that he should stick to passing waitresses. Loving Cassie was nice, but it lacked of something. He liked to think she wasn't his type or that he didn't really like her personnality.

But truthfully, during those two years he tried to find that sensation he felt when Sam kissed him. That electricity. That feeling of overwhelming love. But it never happened. And looking for it made Dean want to smash mirrors. Dean was far for being inexperienced and what terrorized him the most were his fantasies about what his life could have been if he had followed Sam. Whenever he was resting, daydreaming or falling asleep, his was harassed by visions of his brother. His happy smile, his sad smile...his crinkled nose...his neck...the thin muscles of his arms...the soft skin of his back...Stop. No.

[Busty women, strippers, porn, porn, porn]

Sam.

His body always betrayed his brain.

He began to loathe himself. And that was never going to stop.

He was certain Sam was doing great in college. Of course, he thought, I raised him to do great. So Dean tossed his phone, so Sam couldn't call, and he never answered his letter. He didn't know what to write. Plus Sam seemed happy there, he said he was doing great, that he was grateful for evertything he had done for him. It made Dean almost mad. As if he had wanted to read "I miss you, come pick me up, I can't stand those jerks I want to be with you".

Dean was conscious that in spite of him constantly saving Sam's ass, if there was a needy one between them, it was him, and not Sam. Dean couldn't live without Sam. And months after months, Dean's alcoholism was getting worse. He barely talked. And actually he had no one to talk to since he hunted more and more alone. So when his father disappeared, he thought about asking Sam for help. He tried to rationalize it by thinking Sam was the best hunting partner he could possibly ask for, and that he was also concerned, since it was also his Dad. But inside, he was jumping like a 4 years old at the idea of seeing his Sammy again.

When he surprised Sam in his flat, they went into a fight, and Dean felt like shit when his whole body reacted like it was struck by lightning when he touched his brother.

He saw the girlfriend and he instantely hated her, even if she looked sweet and in love with Sam. Because she looked sweet and in love with Sam. Because Sam seemed to love her back. He didn't want to be called Sammy anymore. He was a little cold. No he was just acting brotherly. That was what Dean wanted when he told him to leave. He should have been happy about it, but he felt crushed. It didn't stop him from wearing his cocky smile though and act as if they had seen each other yesterday and in perfectly normal circumstances.

Sam accepted to go with him, but just this time, and Dean had to work hard to hide his excitement. "You and me! Just like old times!". But Sam didn't answer something like "Yeah! I missed it so much!", instead he said "I have to be back home for my finals Dean so let's do this quick ok?". His home wasn't with him anymore. It was with her.

Dean looked at himself in the rearview and saw the bitterness in his eyes. As usual, Sam had quickly fell asleep, and now Dean could stop pretending he was happy. He stared at Sam for a moment, at his sleepy face, at his body which had become more muscular. He must go to a gym, he thought, he's getting big. He began to gently stroke his head, feeling his hair tangling in his fingers, and suddenly his eyes were blurry.

Why did you start all this if it was to forget all about it and leave me behind? He thought.

The answer is simple, said the Voice, you asked him to.

It was a stupid case really. A lady in white. Almost a cliché, almost too easy. But it was great. At least for Dean. He had trouble containing his excitment, and of course he felt let down by Sam's coldness and lack of interest. To be perfectly honest, he felt angry. Sam had done everything he told him to do. Good grades, good life, girlfriend, friends. And as surprising at it may seem, he wasn't at all happy about it.

He was the first to be surprised. He had always thought he only wanted Sam's well being, and things showed to be a little bit more complicated than that. He remembered how violent was the argument between Sam and their father when he left for college. The harsh words. Traitor. Coward. Ingrate. How Sam handled it, like a rock in the middle of a hurricane. So sure of himself. So sure of deserving better. It was written in his eyes. I deserve better, and if I have to walk all over you to find what I need, I will. Dean never had this kind of strength. One hint of disappointment in his father's eyes and he was almost kneeling, begging for forgiveness.

Abandonment original.

Two years ago Dean wanted Sam to leave, but deep down, he would have liked him to stay. He should have seen Dean was unable to leave his father, that he was too afraid of loosing his family and being cast into a world he was unable to understand. But as he always acted strong and unbreakable, Sam couldn't guess any of it. So he listened to his big brother and he left. And he thrived. He lived in a world where he didn't need to be saved by Dean. It was certainly a relief for him, but it also meant Dean's life was a little bit pointless without his job as Sam's care taker.

Sam's happiness away from him was a thorn in Dean's heart, and he hated himself for feeling that. Their father used to say he was the most righteous person of them, but Dean knew really well that there was a reason why his morals were so stiff. There was darkness inside of him, like a hole. Something deep, and scary, like an old mine shaft. Only his principles could keep him on the right tracks. And if he strayed a little from them, he was afraid to turn into someone completely loathesome.

Even more since what hurt him the most was Sam's lack of interest for him. He was the one who came to him once, talking about love and how special they were. And now he was talking like a god damn shrink, using words like dysfunctional and everything. Explaining to him he had understood a lot in two years and that he was sorry (sorry!) for everything that happened before he left. That he was confused. That now, thanks to Jess, he was better. And that he was grateful for Dean letting him go.

Grateful.

Of course, Dean should have been happy that Sam came around and understood his feelings were abnormal. But he wasn't. Because ever since Sam kissed him he had turned his life upside down. He couldn't forget that feeling, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to touch his brother, even if it meant hitting him for no reason. Like when Sam said their mother was dead and they should move on. But you're not supposed to move on from love. If you can, then it isn't love. That's what Sam wasn't able to understand. Their father was chasing Yellow Eyes because he loved their mother, even beyond death. You don't have the right to talk about love if you're not ready to do that kind of things. If Sam could move on from what he felt once, it meant that in spite of everything he said, it wasn't love.

It was just a teenage phase. Sam was now a grown young man who was miles away from the lost and delirious boy who wanted to elope with his big brother.

It became clear that he wasn't coming back anytime soon and that Dean should start moving on, whatever that meant.

So he drove him back to his dorm, and to his precious girlfriend. He tried to keep his happy mask on. Saying goodbye with a smile. Acting detached. When Sam finally got out of the car and entered his building, Dean noticed his right hand was bloody. Without noticing it he had pushed his nails into his palms. He looked at the blood and felt tears falling on his cheeks.

I'm a mess.

His hands were trembling and he tried to wipe the blood out of his right palm with an old bandana, trying to focus on the wound and not on the void he felt inside of him, like a blackhole, swallowing all the remaining light he had. Something primal inside him was crying. Hating that girl for stealing Sam. Wanting her gone. And Dean was trying hard to silence it, using his moral code, repeating himself that letting Sam live his life was the right thing to do, that wanting to bind his brother to him was wrong, that yearning for whatever it was yearning for was despicable.

The fire interrupted his internal battle.

He rushed to Sam's appartment and found him in the middle of a blaze. Jess was pinned on the ceiling like a butterfly, just like their mother all those years ago. Dean forcibly dragged a screaming Sam outside, while the flat was devastated by an supernatural fire. Dean felt that he was to be crushed by a wave of guilt as soon as Sam would be safe outside. And that's exactly what happened.

Sam was in shock, sit on the Impala, refusing to say a word. And Dean didn't know what to do, excep looking at the firefighters trying to put out the fire, knowing that it wouldn't be easy. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he had a sour taste in his mouth, thinking that only a few minutes ago, something inside him wanted Jess gone.

He came back to check on Sam, and saw him checking on the guns, looking emotionless. He turned to Dean and said:

"We have work to do".

Dean was devastated. Something inside him was glad.

At Jess's funeral, Dean witnessed how appreciated his brother was. By his in-laws, his friends. Everybody was coming to him saying his brother was such a great guy. He felt stupidly proud. Somehow he did have a good influence on his brother, he raised him well.

The last four days had been a living nightmare. Sam wouldn't sleep, or talk, or eat. And he wouldn't come to Dean for comfort. He didn't want to be touched. A simple hand on his shoulder was unbearable. Dean was torn between being deeply sorry for Sam's loss, and being glad to have him back. But he didn't have time for selfhate, he had to find a way to take care of Sam, to rebuild their bond. Because his brother was withering and for now there was nothing he could do.

The moment he had come back in his brother's life he had brought tragedy in it. And even if he knew it wasn't his fault, he was afraid Sam would think the contrary. That somehow, seeing his brother again had scealed Jess's fate.

Sam finally cried at the funeral. His friends found the right words and the right gestures to comfort him and help him release his pain. Dean felt powerless, and wondered if Sam wouldn't be better with them, instead of leaving everything for revenge. But Sam insisted on coming with him, and since that moment, Dean made himself a promise.

He would, starting right now, be a better brother for Sam. He would stop being jealous of him bonding with other people. He would forget about all those feelings hidden in the dark corners of his soul. And he would let him go back to his life whenever he wanted to.

He was never able to keep any of those.