Seeing as each chapter seems ti be named after a song and qoutes one I thought it'd be silly to stop now:

'Once upon a time somebody ran

Somebody ran away saying 'fast as I can I got to go, I got to go

'Once upon a time we fell apart

You're holding in your hands the two halves of my heart Oh oh oh, oh-oh-oh-oh
Once upon a time we burned bright

Now all we ever seem to do is fight on and on, and on and on and on

Once upon a time on the same side

Once upon a time on the same side in the same game

Now why d'you have to go? Have to go and throw water on my flame?
Could have been a princess, you'd be a king

Could have had a castle and worn a ring

But no o-o-o-oh you let me go o-o-o-oh-oh I could have been a princess, you'd be a king

Could have had a castle and worn a ring But no-o-o-o-oh you let me go-o-o-o-oh

You stole my star La-la-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la,

You stole my star La-la-la-la-la-la-la
'Cos you really hurt me, no you really hurt me

'Cos you really hurt me, no you really hurt me

'Cos you really hurt me, oh-oh you really hurt me, Oh-ooh-ooh '

Cos you really hurt me, oh-oh you really hurt me'

Princess of China

Coldplay ft. Rihanna


Sam was being pressed down into the motel mattress beneath him, his brother was atop him, keeping Sam down with all his weight. Dean was straddling him, kissing every inch of Sam's skin, peppering opened mouthed kisses here and there, taking his sweet time to torture Sam thoroughly. Sam groaned as his nipple was encircled by Dean's hot mouth and encouraged into hardness by hid talented tongue. Sam tried to attach his hands to Dean's short hair but he was swatted away by his demanding brother.

"Dean," He whimpered. "Please,"

Dean released Sam's over simulated nipple with a wet pop.

"Please what?" Dean smiled seductively.

"Need you." Sam insisted, eyes heavy with lust, desire evident on his face.

"Yeah?" Dean asked huskily, ducking his head to suck at Sam's ear. "Tell me, Sammy." Sam groaned again and bucked his hips at the sound of his brothers thick gravely voice, so fucking perfect.

'Fuck me." Sam hissed, a blush crawling up his high cheek bones.

"Beg me." Dean replied, kissing the tip of Sam's nose teasingly.

"Please, jerk. Fuckin' please!"

Dean threw him a cheeky grin before he dived in for a heated kiss, his tongue doing amazing things to Sam's making Sam's blood simmer in ecstasy. Sam wrapped his long legs around Dean's waist and drew him closer, clinging to him as tightly as he could. Dean broke the kiss as the both took in gasps of air.

"I love you, baby boy." Dean whispered like a hymn into Sam's ear as he panted.

"God, love you too, De," Sam replied, pulling Dean's lips back too his and devouring his brother's mouth hungrily.

"Sam! Wake up kid!"

Sam shot up in his bed, instinctively searching for his blade.

"Sammy, man, I thought you where having an aneurism or something."

"Dean?" Sam stuttered, staring into his brothers moss green eyes.

"Who where you expecting? Megan Fox?"

"I-" Sam blinked, glanced down and realised he was as hard as rock, the blankets tenting.

Dean followed Sam's gazed down. For a moment his face seemed to harden, but too soon the rigidness was replaced by an underling mirth and Sam wasn't sure if the rigidness had even been their in the first place.

"Maybe you were!" Dean laughed loudly. "Pleasant dreams, Sam?" Sam flushed red all over and ducked his head avoiding Dean's knowing eyes.

"Shut up." He muttered as he pulled the blankets around himself tighter.

"Ah Sammy, nothing to be ashamed of, or do we have to have 'the talk'?"

Sam shook his head frantically.

"Never again," Sam muttered remembering 'the talk' Dad had gave him, soon followed a few days later by 'the talk' Dean delivered. Dean chuckled at him before shoving a hot Styrofoam cup into Sam's hand.

"I got coffee." Dean said with a wink.

"I can see that." Sam monotones.

"Thank you Dean, so considerate, Dean. What an amazing brother you are Dean, how could I ever repay you Dean-"
"Shut up, Dean." Sam offered instead.

"A million thank yous Dean, may I do all your laundry for the week Dean." Dean continued on; paying no attention to Sam as he walked back to the kitchenette and his steaming hotcakes. "Let me offer to wash the Impala, Dean, no I insist."

"You really like the sound of your own voice, don't you?" Sam sighed, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

"What was that? I love you Dean? Oh Sammy, no need, I already know."

"Why were you born?" Sam moaned, trying to disregard his erection.

"Are you sure you don't need to hear 'the birds and the bees' again?"

"Not from you."

"Maybe an educational video?"

"Aghh!" Sam yelled, slamming his head into his pillow and wishing the world would dissolve around him, taking his nuisance of a brother with it.

The cold shower had worked wonders for Sam. Crazy as it sounds, it had invigorated him, he felt better and Dean's annoying voice didn't sound so agonisingly sexual now that Sam stopped sporting wood. He sighed thankfully as he drank from his cold coffee. He didn't even care that his coffee wasn't hot anymore; he was just to glad to be free from the influence of his latest dream. He'd been having them regularly, he had dreams like that for as long as he could remember but now he was experiencing them more than normal, it was becoming frequent. Ever since a few weeks ago, that morning he woke up hangover as shit, the dreams had started coming more often and more… involved, intense. He really didn't know how much longer he could stand it. Before he had just pushed his attraction for Dean to the back of his mind, hiding it behind all the other crap that fogged and clouded up his brain. It was suppressible then, but now it was almost tangible, he needed to feel Dean like he needed food or oxygen. Each day he went without Dean's touch the tortuous feeling of pure untamed need amped up inside of him just a little more and a little more, until it was plain unbearable. Sam looked worse for ware too. There where black little bags forming under his eyes and his skin was losing its normal sun-kissed honey colour, even Dean had noticed, commenting that Sam looked like Death warmed over one morning. He needed away out, not that he didn't love the dreams. He bloody relished them, they where the only time when his needs where actually meet. But he just didn't have the energy left to deal with them anymore. He felt something wet roll down his check, great, was he crying? Sam grunted unhappily and swatted at it angrily. He wasn't a pansy; there was really no reason to cry over this.

"Hey, you alright?" Dean asked as he spotted Sam's face from across the room where he was channel surfing the extremely boring cable T.V.

"I'm fine." Sam reply, turning away from Dean.

"If you say so," Dean shrugged and went back to the television.

Sam sniffed quietly as he tried to take no notice of his brother's nonchalant attitude, He shouldn't take it personally, god knows Dean's been like that for longer than Sam cared to remember, but today it stang more than usual, dug in just a little deeper. He heard Dean sigh irritably behind him.

"What is it?" Dean voice called out.

"Nothing!" Sam insisted again.

"Yeah, whatever you say weeping willow. Come on, what is it?"

"Just leave me alone, alright?" Sam whined.

"Sam, you sound like your fifteen again." Dean said, standing up and making his way over to his brother. Sam relaxed slightly as he felt the weight of Dean's hand resting on his shoulder.

"You're the one who always wants to talk," Dean reminded him, "so talk."

"Dean, please, just don't. Leave it, alright?"

"Are we really gonna play this game?"

"You're not helping right now!" Sam accused, his watery eyes delivering a glare of warning for Dean to back off.

"Good, I never said I was here to help, I'm here to listen."

Sam rolled his tear-reddened eyes. "That sounds like such a lie coming from you."

"Maybe so, but I'm telling the truth, kiddo. So tell me."

"No."

"Is it the apocalypse, because I told you a million times it's not your-"
"No."

"Then what?" Dean asked, slowly starting to lose his temper, the frustration becoming evident in his voice.

"Just don't." Sam repeated like a broken down record. Dean removed his hand from Sam shoulder.

"So when you want to talk about something its mandatory but when I want to it's a no go?"

"No, Dean, I just really don't want to talk about this, ok?"

"No, not ok." Dean growled, snatching his keys up form the table. "I'm going to a bar. Be back." Dean said aloofly as if he where addressing the room instead of Sam.

"Dean-" Sam pleaded but it was too late, Dean was already out the door.

Dean slammed the Impala door shut, hard, instantly regretting it.

"I'm sorry baby," He muttered to the car, he hadn't meant to take his anger out on her. He glanced around the empty parking lot. Really it was far too early to start drinking and he seemed to be the only one around in miles of the small pub he had found. The place was obviously a dive. It was practically falling apart from the seams, the paint peeling and flaking down onto the ground below, the tin roof rusting with age and little maintenance and the windows where so dirty not even a glimpse of a reflection could be seen in them. But it was the only place open at this time of day that was serving the good stuff, and honestly, Dean had seen much worse, so he shrugged to himself and made a beeline for the door. When he entered the soothing sound of old country music met his ears. There was a ragged older gentleman sitting at a round wooden table, he was slumped almost face first into his beer and snoozing lightly. Dean could tell he was the bar regular, he could practically smell the alcohol on him from the other side of the room. Dean felt a zap of pity for the guy but it passed quickly as he reminded himself that guy was drunk and he was not and instantly the pity was replaced by envy. Dean made for the counter; his footsteps making the old wooden floor bored creak and groan under his weight. A pretty, young thing was manning the bar, cleaning glasses and chewing some bubble gum as she went, every now and them stopping to blow a bubble or hum. As Dean approached closer he noticed she was humming a familiar tune, it was 'Hey Jude". Dean sighed, just his luck, he couldn't escape reminders of his dump of a life even in a bar.

"Nice song," Dean commented as he took a seat, startling the girl.

"Oh, hi." She smiled, raising her head to display her big brown eyes.

"Yeah, it is. I sing it to my godson to put him to sleep."

Dean smiled. "My mom used to do the same."

"We'll, your momma and me must have a lot in common."

"Maybe," Dean said diverting his eyes.

"So, what brings you in this time of the morn'?" She asked kindly.

"The normal,"

"Uh," She nodded. "Family or love?"

Dean glanced up at her. "Both."

"Double whammy."

"You could say." Dean agreed.

"So, what you after?" She offered, gesturing to the shelves of alcohol.

"The strongest poison you got."

"Hold up there partner. It eleven o'clock in the morn' don't cha think that's a little heavy on?"

"It's one AM somewhere." Dean replied stubbornly, sending her his best mischievous grin.

"Well that's the spirit. My papa always told me 'waste not, want not'." And with that and a rather cheeky smile she retrieved the oldest looking, most dust ridden bottle of whiskey from the top of the shelving.

"Just a heads up, this is what Virgo over there drinks." She said, nodding her head in the direction of the slumped patron.

"Virgo? Isn't that some kind of motion sickness?"

She shrugged her black hair sifting gracefully about her shoulders. "I don't know. I think his momma was a hippy. It'd explain a lot."

Dean chucked and picked up the small shot glass she'd poured.

"First ones on the house, stranger." She winked and fetched another glass before Dean had even finished downing the first one, filling the new one to the brim and nudging it toward Dean.

"You know what a man wants." Dean winked back and downed the next one, the amber brown liquid burning a path down his chest before settling to become a warm simmer.

"You could say so," she giggled. "I'm Elisha, by the way."

"Dean." Dean replied. "Got anymore of that stuff?" He asked, pointing to the bottle. Elisha raised her smooth brown eyebrows. "You bet you last penny I do." She scoffed as she poured yet another.

"So," she said easily as she passed the next shot to Dean. "are we gonna do the whole spill our guts thing where you ask me how a pretty girl ends up working in this dump and I say 'circumstance' and then ask you what brings you in and you say 'it's a long story', and then I say 'well honey lucky I've got a long time' thing?"

"Are you normally this blunt?" Dean asked, frowning at her.

"Blunter." She replied with a shrug. "But for you darlin' I touched it up a little."

"I really don't think you could be any blunter." Dean told her as he accepted yet another drink.

"Oh sweetie, don't try me." She chuckled as she whipped down the bar with a wet cloth. "This job has turned me into a bitter old prude."

"Well you sure don't look like one," Dean said suggestively wagging his eyebrows and eyeing off the V of her neckline.

"Honey, God gave me eyes for a reason, as he did you, and I assure you they weren't for gaping at my breasts."

"Wow," Dean started to slurred. "You weren't lying; you can get blunter. How do you keep any customers?"

"Well," She started, "This place isn't exactly full now is it." Dean couldn't help but agree.

"So let's go, what the nitty gritty details of what brings you in."

"You don't want to know." Dean warned, glancing down into his empty shot glass with a wistful expression.

"Try me." Elisha insisted, a calming smile wishing over her pretty face. And suddenly Dean felt like he wanted to tell her everything.

"I'm in love, " He shrugged.

"So ya said, cowboy." Elisha reminded him. "Ya also said the family was driving you up the wall. What? Momma don't like your latest trick to much?"

"You know, I'm sure if she knew she'd have a real problem with it, actually."

"Oh, been keeping secrets, Dean?"

"No." Dean shook his head. "I don't have a mom, she passed away."

"I'm real sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to-"
"No, its cool." Dean assured her. "You not the first and you won't be the last."

Elisha nodded solemnly

"Then what's up with the family?" She asked softly.

"That's just the problem." Dean sighed.

"What is?"

"I'm in love with someone."

Elisha frowned. "Yeah you said." Then realisation drowned on her face. "Oh." She said in a small whisper.

"Yeah, oh." Dean muttered.

"Well," She said, diverting her eyes from Dean and flipping a piece of hair behind her ear. "I've heard of worse."

"Really?" Dean asked, highly doubting it.

"Yeah, I've heard a lot, it happens when your a bar tend. Listen, Dean, you're no rapist or murderer. Those things are appalling, but loving someone a little more that you should? Yeah, I mean it's wrong but it's not the end all is it. It's just something you gotta deal with. "

Dean glanced up at her. "Your unconfutable right now, aren't you."

"Look, I mean, it's not something I woke up today and said to myself 'I'm going to go to work and hang out for some good insect stories', but I meant what I said. You're a good person still."

"I'd hunt me down and kill me if I where anyone else." Dean said. "I'm a monster."

"Right, well you keep telling yourself that, it's going to get you nowhere fast. I'm telling you now; it's not picture perfect but its love. And that's something to cherish, no matter the situation."

"If only it where that easy."

"It could be, if you wanted it to be." Elisha said.

"How?"

Elisha smiled that sweet, soft smile of hers. "You tell them."

"What! Hells no, are you crazy, just waltz in and say 'hey little brother, nice morning isn't it? By the way I think I love you, want to spend the rest of today rolling around in-between the sheets?"

"Why not?" Elisha grinned.

"Eh, I'd get punched in the face, that's why, and I'd lose him, forever."

"Yeah, most likely. But at least you'd be free, you'd have said all there is to say and you wouldn't be here, drowning your sorrows. Leave it up to him, he most likely will be disgusted and leave you, but what if he isn't? Think of what you could have!"

"I can't." Dean said, shaking his head.

"Alright-y." She sighed, sounding defeated. With one last apologetic glance she went back to her work.

Sam lay in the bath, staring absently at the ceiling. He felt numb, empty. After Dean had left Sam had done the only thing he could, cried like a girl until there was nothing left in him, noting at all. Then he collapsed on the floor, trying to blend into the carpet. He couldn't help but notice just how pitiful he'd become, if there had been balloons around he would of called it a self pity party. He was a hunter for Christ's sake, he was meant to be beyond this and he sure as hell wasn't meant to be craving his brother like this. He was an adult, goddamn it. Not a blubbering newborn. He sunk deeper into the warm water at the embarrassing comparison. Blowing out his breath he silently wished Dean had never made his crossroads deal. Then Sam could just be gone, dead, in heaven, he supposed, seeing as that was before all his hell damning demonic crap. He could be happy and Dean would be safe away from the prying hands of his little brother's sick mind. There was nothing more Sam wanted right now than to not be here, not be facing this dilemma, it was killing him slowly, like the plague. Eating at him from the inside out. Collapsing his lungs, making it impossible to breath for the pain. Christ he sounded emo teenager battling puberty, even to himself. Dean was right, he was such a bitch. Sam jumped as he heard the door open and someone, his brother, stumbled in.

"Sam!" His drunken voice shouted. "Where are ya!" Sam leapt out of the bath and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist tightly. He opened the door of the bathroom to reveal Dean's drunken form.

"Sam!" he shouted again as his eyes landed on Sam. "Found ya!" Dean smiled, chucking his keys across the room probably aiming for the table but instead landing them in the sink with a loud metallic clank that made Sam cringe.

"You sure did." Sam offered in a monotone.

"Cheer up Sammy boy." Dean said, a pout coming over his face.

"You're drunk," Sam stated.

"I know, isn't it great?" Dean slurred excitedly.

"God! What have you been drinking, I can smell it from here."

"Whisky Sammy! Cheap, crappy, old whisky."

"Oh," Sam offered when Dean looked at him wide eye and expediently. Dean cocked his head to the side and stared at Sam as if he'd only just noticed something.

"You're not wearing a shirt?"

"Yeah, thanks for the update, Captain Obvious."

"You're welcome Lieutenant Sarcastic."

"God, please tell me you didn't drive back like this." Sam said shaking his head.

"You're grumpy."

"You think!" Sam snapped. "You just take off like that and then rock up two hours later drunk of your rocket. It's not even three yet Dean, you should be sober!"

"Pfft! It one A.M-"

"Somewhere. Yeah, heard that one before, great excuse Dean."

"Sammy!" Dean whined. "Do we have to fight; it's all we do lately."

"Wow!" Sam bit back. "I wonder why, maybe because every five minutes you pull something like this instead of trying to stop the end of the world with me?"

"You make me sound like the bad one; I wasn't the one wolfing down bitch blood!"

Dean face went slack for a second as his drunken mind realised what he'd just said. He slapped a hand over his mouth as if he could cram the hurtful words back in. Sam just stood shocked, his hands quivering.

"What?" Sam whisper, the danger laced in the undertones of his voice. "Did you say?"

"I-" Dean started, but couldn't find the words, he swallowed tightly around the lump in his throat.

"Sam, I didn't mean it! I promise."

"It just slipped out." Sam offered the rage evident in his voice. Dean flung his open palm out in front of him.

"Yes!" He cried. "Yes! It slipped out. I did-"
"SHUT UP!" Sam roared, picking up the nearest object, a book by the feel of it, and flinging it with all his might at Dean's head. Dean dodged it like a pro, even in his drunken state. The resulting thud of the book hitting the wall behind Dean stilled hem both into a deadly silence.

"Sam-" Dean whispered in disbelief.

"Shit!" Sam hissed, gripping his head and digging his fingertips into his skull, tears bubbling up all over again.
"I didn't mean to, shit, I'm sorry Dean."

"It just slipped?" Dean suggested, still wide eyed with astonishment.

"Dean," Sam tried to find the words to apologise.

"It's ok." Dean said, eyeing the offending book on the ground. "We're even."

Sam staggered forward, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

"I don't know what got into me." Sam hissed into his hands. Dean frowned at his brother's topless, slumped form. Slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal he came to stand next to Sam, carefully he knelt down so that he could stare up into Sam's face which was covered by his hands. Gingerly Dean removed Sam's hands from his face so that he could met Sam's hazel eyes with his own slightly booze heavy irises.

"It alright Sam, its ok. I forgive you. You missed coz you got a girls arm. I'm ok."

"I'm going insane," Sam groaned. "I'm losing it."

"Hey. Sam." Dean slurred drunkenly, gripping Sam's cheeks with his hands, rubbing his thumbs over his high cheek bones.

"Hey, Sammy. It alright. We're alright."

"Are we? Really Dean, when was the last time we where 'alright'?"

"Sammy," Dean begged. "Don't do this to yourself."

"Why not?" Sam sobbed like a loony. "I'm already so far down the rabbit hole; I might of well stay for tea with the mad hatter! God, you drive me insane, you know that? You send me up the walls, so why can't I just fucking quit you?"

"I don't know, Sammy." Dean sighed and pulled his brother in for a tight hug, letting Sam sob against his shoulder, soaking his top with his tears.

"I just don't know, baby boy." Dean whispered kissing the top of Sam's head.


Well, that's chapter three. Clap, clap. So glad it's done! Alright, reference time. Elisha's line "My papa always told me 'waist not, want not'" That is courtesy of my Dad, that was something I heard all though my childhood and he even said it last night at his birthday party, so thank you Papa, and happy birthday! And Sam's 'Why can't I quit you?" Isn't word for word but I did nick it off of Brokeback Mountain, I'm sure some people probably picked up on that. That line makes the movie so I couldn't steal it without a least refencing them. Hope you all enjoyed, special thanks to my friend, she knows who she is, who edited this fic when I was far to tired to and also suporrted me through these last two chapters.

xoxo

November Envy