1.3 Revelation

A few days later, with Sam

"I want to visit Bobby's grave."

Glancing up from his current research, Sam found his brother standing at the sink with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

It was eight in the morning.

Sam felt like drinking, too. He would have to be the one to do the driving, though, so that was not an option. "Let's go," he agreed and got to his feet. He gathered his belongings quickly enough, but he could not help watching his brother.

Dean downed half the glass in one gulp.

Two years' worth of their history had not done him much good. Castiel's betrayal, the Leviathans, Sam's hallucinations, Bobby's death and Dean's involuntary trip to purgatory – none of those tales were easy to stomach, even if Dean did not actively remember much of it yet.

Or did he?

Still watching his brother as he shoved his shirts into his duffel bag, Sam chose to ask right away, "Has anything returned to you?"

Instantly, Dean stopped what he was doing to send his brother a funny look.

For the briefest moment, Sam dared hoping that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't only the painful memories that were returning to Dean.

"His hat," Dean whispered tonelessly, offering nothing more and nothing less.

Closing his eyes, Sam heaved a soft sigh.

Of course, it would take Dean a long time to get over the pain and losses.

Maybe then, though, he would be ready to see that somewhere along the bumpy road, they had found a way to cope.

A way to make things worth it.

A way to enjoy life.

Together.

Until that time came, though, Sam would have to wait and endure. Still watching his brother's sluggish movements, he hated his own powerlessness.

The pain Dean was suffering through...was one Sam would have kissed away any other time.


The following weeks, with Dean

Slowly but surely, things returned to normal. Once Dean felt informed enough, they resumed hunting everything that crossed their path.

A Rugarou, a werewolf and a shitload of demons.

His so called memories, which only consisted of single glimpses and impressions to begin with, were far from complete, but with at least a bit of recollection on any major event, Dean felt confident enough to wager it – and being back on the road just beat the general gloominess whichever way you looked at it.

Though, maybe general gloominess was a bit of an overstatement.

Dean was coping, and his brother was doing his best to help him with that. It did not stop with patient explanations of past hunts that sometimes filled an entire evening, though. In getting the food, letting Dean choose the television programme and doing the laundry, Sam was actively making concessions.

Not that Dean minded. Sooner or later, his brother would start bitching at him again, and until then, well, he certainly didn't mind having the last word on hunts for once.

But along with the overly courteous behaviour, Sam had developed a habit Dean did not quite know how to place. Every other day, he would go outside – just outside the motel room, stare at nothing in particular and spend half an hour doing nothing at all.

"Just needed some fresh air," Sam had stated with a shrug when Dean had asked him about it, "It gets awfully stuffy in there."

Considering his brother did not seem particularly troubled, Dean had shrugged the matter off. After all, there was nothing wrong with having some time to yourself.

Today, though, at least he did not need much more of that.

Grabbing his coat, Dean left the motel room and found his brother sitting on a flight of stairs nearby with his elbows on his knees and a pensive expression on his face.

"Hey there," Dean greeted him as he shrugged into the jacket and came to a halt in front of the stairs, "you wanna hit the bars? You can't deny today's hunt went about as well as it gets, so if that's not a reason to celebrate, I don't know what is."

Raising his head slowly as he stopped fiddling with whatever it was he was holding in his hands, Sam sent his brother a tired frown. "You're seriously asking me to watch you hook up with some big-busted barmaid?" he asked.

Shrugging, Dean replied with a chuckle. "Jealous, much?" he countered and tilted his head, "But don't worry, I'll be your wingman and we'll both a get nice chick tonight."

Rolling his eyes, Sam heaved a sigh. "That's not gonna happen," he stated simply.

Dean frowned. "You're such a spoilsport," he grumbled and turned on his heels, "Well, more chicks for me."

"Dean."

Arching an eyebrow, Dean glanced over his shoulder to find his brother skidding over. "Listen, I can't tell you what to do," Sam began quietly and nodded towards the spot on the stairs he had just freed, "but before you go, stay here for a moment."

Dean's frown deepened, but he saw no harm in sitting down. "You're fine and all," he joked good-naturedly, "but your cup-size is kinda under my standards, if you understand." He sent his brother a meaningful look, but Sam merely sighed in response.

"That never bothered you before," he stated simply.

Dean choked on his own saliva. "Dude," he grumbled, still trying to regain his composure, "I get you got the best teacher there is, but can you stop it with the subtext me for a moment?" Honestly, it was a good way to put people off. Dean himself used that more often than not, so he probably shouldn't complain about rubbing off on his brother. But that just wasn't Sam's style..even though Dean had to admit, that was just another thing that might have developed naturally over the last two years.

This was what this was about then? Another anecdote to the past?

"I was hoping this would return to you before I have to tell you," Sam spoke quietly, "But considering you would never address the matter on your own anyway, let's just get this done and over with." He gulped. "But please...hear me out before you say anything, okay?"

Unsure how to take those words, Dean narrowed his eyes. "Now you're just freaking me out," he commented slowly as he began watching his brother very carefully. Sure enough, now that he was sitting close enough, he caught a glimpse of what Sam was holding in his hands. Glistening in a matte silver color, it was a necklace of some sort. Now this wasn't the first time Dean noticed that particular new addition to his brother's inventory, but with Sam's hands covering most of it, he could see just as little of it as when it was half-hidden underneath ten layers of shirts as usual.

Following Dean's gaze, Sam heaved a soft sigh and decided it was as good a place to start as any. Without another word, he unfolded his hands and grabbed the chain rather than the pendant so that in lifting his arm, he could give Dean a good view of what it was attached to.

Even in the street lanterns' poor lighting, Dean recognized it for what it was - a golden ring.

His eyes widened.

Sam was married?

When the hell did that happen?

Just when Dean intended to ask for details, though, Sam twisted his hand to look at the necklace himself, giving his brother another angle to look at it.

And...

It wasn't just one ring, but two.

"Shit."

It did not take a genius to understand the meaning behind that. Given their dangerous lifestyle, it was a miracle Sam's relationship had held long enough for a marriage, but...hadn't he already lost enough?

"Sam," Dean croaked awkwardly, although he did not trust himself to find the right words anyway, "I'm sorry."

Tearing his gaze from the rings, Sam looked up to meet Dean's eyes briefly. "This," he explained quietly and leant forward, placing a soft kiss on the rings, before he rested his chin on his hands and closed his eyes, "is the best things that ever happened to me."

Contemplating those words, Dean kept a close eye on his brother. In that moment, Sam seemed tired, lonely and worryingly vulnerable, but at the very least, he had looked much worse after Jessica.

Maybe his new girl was even still alive.

Was she?

Hating himself once again for the stupid amnesia, for forgetting so much vital information, Dean tried finding anything helpful in his Swiss cheese of a memory.

But all he could recall were lone impressions - hazy pictures of his brother wearing that ring...with a huge smile on his face.

Dean's eyes widened. After everything they had gone through, he had doubted either of them would still even be capable of such an expression.

But Sam...

He had been happy, and he had been out...and he had been forced back into the life yet again?

Tired of all the speculation, Dean could no longer keep himself from asking, "What happened to her?"

Shaken out of his own reverie, Sam opened his eyes to meet his brother's worried gaze with a carefully neutral expression. It took a moment for him answer, though. "She," he began with a dry chuckle and looked away, "nearly got herself killed and forgot about our entire relationship."

Dean's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "What?" That couldn't really mean what it sounded like, could it? It had to be a strange coincidence Sam's girl and brother both lost a good part of their memories - it had to be.

It was either that, or...

But there was no way for Dean to get romantically involved with his own brother, for crying out loud.

So why the hell was Sam looking at him like that?

"To make a long story short," the younger brother explained quietly, "we both got shot by a Cupid, and after a while..." He hesitated, but shrugged it off, "We just stopped fighting it."

Dean's mouth opened and closed again.

A Cupid?

Seriously?

Of all the crap possible, they had ended up falling victim to a freaking supernatural matchmaker? But - no!

"And it was a great decision," Sam added with a soft smile.

And just like that, any troubled thoughts were erased from Dean's mind. He had not seen Sam like that in a long time.

And...


Looking around the victims' room, which was decorated with all kinds of pop culture memorabilia, he quickly found what he was looking for and pulled two small golden items out of a vitrine.

Sam only understood them for what they were when Dean had already slipped one of the rings around his finger and the other one around his own. "Congratulations," the older brother grinned widely, "You're now Mrs Dean Winchester."

Torn between dismay and endearment, Sam failed to reply for a long time. Eventually, though, he got around to taking an actual look at the ring on his finger. "Seriously, Dean?" he asked as he recognized the writing and cited from memory, "One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them. One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."

"Fitting enough for a marriage, don't you think?" Dean replied with a shrug and turned to stride out of the room. When he grabbed Sam's hand in passing, his grin widened even further, "Come on now, I can't kiss the bride in a crime scene, now can I?"


...and no matter how wrong it all sounded, Dean could not help but feel proud of the fact that in some warped kind of way...it had been him to make Sam smile like that.

It didn't change the fact everything he had just heard was absolutely and utterly absurd, though. "Sam," he began after a long while with his gaze fixed at the pavement ahead, "if this is some kind of dream, or joke, or whatever..." He gulped, "then this isn't very funny."

Sam sighed in response. "Just another weird supernatural occurence that marked our lives," he replied surprisingly smoothly. "Listen, I'm not imposing anything on you. I told you so you know." Staring back at the chain in his hand, he sighed deeply. "As far as I'm concerned, the one this ring belongs to is out of my reach," he explained as he fastened the chain around his neck and hid the rings underneath his shirt. "It took a long time to stomach the first time around, so for the moment, just don't comment on it at all," he suggested and stood up at last, "Go ahead and have your merry way with...whoever." Sending Dean another look, he set off towards the motel room. "Just keep in mind that none of these women can beat what we already had."

Dean stared after his brother, but he did not manage saying anything at all.

It wasn't right - it couldn't be true.

Through some kind of cosmic joke, he had woken up to a world he no longer knew. The only constant that had not changed was his brother fighting at his side, and knowing that at least the most fundamental part of his life had stayed the same had helped Dean greatly when he had tried to adapt to the new situation.

Now, though, he got to find out that even that wasn't the case? That even his relationship to his freaking brother had twisted in some strange, confusing and absolutely immoral way?

Him and Sam, together, as anything more than brothers? He didn't even dare to think about it. The mere idea was so absurd it had never ever crossed his mind before.

Now, though? It was still absurd.

They were both straight, they were far too different for anything like it to work out. They were brothers, for crying out loud! So how the hell -


Chuckling softly, Dean stared up at the starry sky. "And there I was thinking your drug-induced self had coaxed my easily-convinced self into a clichéd make-out session when it turns out we really just relished in nostalgia," he mused both in guilt and relief, speaking more to himself than to his brother, and he allowed himself to enjoy the view of a small town underneath the vast sky at last, "Then again, this is pretty amazing."


Closing his eyes, Dean buried his face in his hands. So they'd been trying to fight it, but Sam, he -


"I guess we are pretty awesome together, huh?" Sam grinned as he turned around on the bed and straddled his unsuspecting brother.

Not that Dean minded, of course. As a matter of fact, he welcomed his brother's every movement. "Bitch, we're not awesome," he corrected gruffly and inhaled longingly when he felt Sam's hot breath on his neck, "We're fucking amazing."


Groaning, Dean lowered his head even further. "You've got to be kidding," he croaked in sheer confusion. The memories that had suddenly returned to him were still fresh in his mind as if they had only happened the day before.

And he could no longer get his mind off the Sam he had witnessed there.

That was not the brother he had been fighting alongside to stop the devil.

That was his brother happy.


Later

It was only after another hour that he was shaken out of his reverie by the door of one of the motel's rooms opening and closing.

He was not suprised to see Sam standing there, leaning against the doorframe. His expression was a compassionate one, and in not moving closer, he seemed to understand Dean's inner conflict well enough. All he did was nodding towards their room with a simple question on his lips, "You coming in again?"

Dean stared back. He wouldn't mind going someplace warm, but as he looked at his brother standing there, all he could think about was how often they had -


The door fell shut behind them, and neither Dean nor Sam had it in them to hold back much longer. Clothes were shed and tongues entwined. Before Dean knew it, anything that mattered was the hot skin under his touch and the sound of Sam's voice calling out-


"Dean?"

Gasping guiltily, Dean crossed his eyes as he remembered his brother had asked him to come back inside.

"No," he said at once.

Sam's brows furrowed and Dean realized he must have sounded much harsher than intended.

But there was no way he could go anywhere near Sam right now, not without -


"You'll get whatever you want later, alright?" Sam suggested softly as he carried Dean out of the vampire's nest.

Dean's frown deepened, but he couldn't help being a bit intrigued by that offer. "Whatever I want?" he repeated incredulously. It was then that Sam arched an eyebrow at him and leant down to whisper four very quiet yet very concise words into his brother's ear.

"Whatever you want, Dean."


Breathing heavily, Dean got to his feet. Rather than returning to their room, though, he made a beeline for the car.

He could not be with Sam right now.

Rather, he had to get drunk.

Badly.


Later

He glared at his drink, but it did not exactly reply.

The blonde sitting next to him, however, did. "Maybe it's been there the entire time," she replied playfully, "Just like you and me. Do you even notice I'm flirting with you?"

Dean arched an eyebrow. Of course he'd noticed. Or maybe he had not. He was kind of busy getting drunk, but she was kind of the type of girl he'd usually pick up, too.

Of course, though, she was too busty.

And too blonde.

Too small.

Too frail.

She wasn't Sam.

Which was kind of the point why he'd come here in the first place, wasn't it?

But...he couldn't get himself to do it.

He couldn't get himself to be attracted to anything but his drink...and a certain someone he just couldn't allow himself to be attracted to.

Eventually, the time passed, and so did his drinks.

At one point, the girl got so frustrated she splashed her drink right into his face - at least that's how he explained how his clothes had gotten so wet.

He guessed he must have turned her down on purpose - the barkeeper was more pleasant company anyway.

Also, he had the right cup size.

He was kinda muscular, too.

Dean kind of liked the shade of his hair, even though it was too short.

But he was too small, too, which was a pity, really.

"You want me to call you a cab?" the barkeeper asked him at last.

Dean sent him a funny look and replied, "I could think of better ways to utilize that mouth of yours."

Not that he really noticed what happened after that.

Sooner or later, he was being talked to again, but he did not really listen.

Sooner or later, he found himself moving, but he did not really pay attention. It felt like he was not moving on his own accord, and a familiar voice nearby confirmed that suspicion.

"Dean," Sam's voice repeated a couple of times.

He was in trouble, wasn't he?

But somehow, he heard the Impala's engine starting.

It was a soothing sound that had him drift off to sleep disturbingly quickly.

Oh well, maybe he was not in that much trouble after all.


The next day

Drowsily, Dean opened his eyes, only to get blinded by the sheer brightness. Hadn't they just yesterday complained about the dimness of the room they had rented?

Forcing his eyes shut again, he released a groan.

Probably the room was just a badly lit as yesterday - it was just a hangover that was killing him.

"There's a bucket to your right," he heard Sam talking at a considerately low voice, "just in case."

Groaning in acknowledgement, Dean turned to his side, causing a wet cloth to slip off his forehead that must have been there the entire time. He groaned again.

Just how much had he had last night?

He tried falling asleep again for quite a while before realizing he was far too awake in spite of the pain in his skull.

Struggling to sit up, he squinted at his feet, forcing his eyes to slowly adapt to the relative brightness. When they finally did, he caught sight of the bucket Sam had helpfully placed there - and also of a cup of water and a sandwich on his nightstand that looked far too good to be true.

"Dude, you're a life saver," he gasped and tucked in right away. Munching like a starving man, he looked around to find Sam sitting at his laptop on the other side of the room.

Nodding in his brother's general direction before resuming whatever research he was doing, he did not look as pissed as Dean would have suspected. Then again, though...

Slowly but surely, Dean started remembering what had had him drinking that much in the first place.

Just like that, some romantic history had appeared between the two brothers, and Sam was acting as if nothing had happened.

Gulping, Dean downed the cup of water in one go. Drowning the awkwardness in alcohol might have helped last night, but he still had no idea what to do.

"There's lots of demonic omens a few towns over," Sam suddenly stated, "Looks like we did not get all of them. Once you're ready, we should get going."

Arching his eyebrows, Dean inhaled deeply. He had expected a scolding and a lengthy continuation of yesterday's talk, not this.

This was his job.

This was something he could handle.

- 1.3 Revelation: End -


Note on FF Continuity: In case you want to know more about how the relationship Dean forgot about came into being in the first place: that is covered in the first three chapters of my other fanfic "A Supernatural Infatuation". (Almost all of Dean's flashbacks in this chapter happened in that story.)

For now, thank you for reading and please drop a review!