They spent the rest of the day interviewing the families of the other victims. None of the other families recognized Dean.
Sam had asked only one question about what Jimmy had said. Though Sam was fairly sure of the answer, the younger brother just couldn't help but make certain.
He had asked if John had ever hit Dean.
To which Dean had responded with a highly affronted "No!"
"Sam, what the fuck?! You know Dad didn't. He's just intense and they all jumped to the wrong conclusion," Dean had said.
Sam did know how frightening John could appear and so had let it drop. They got dinner at a drive-through and headed to a hotel.
It turned out to be the same hotel that they had stayed in before, a run-down affair just outside of town. This town wasn't exactly a tourist mecca.
Dean had gone inside to get the room, while Sam got the bags. He entered the lobby just in time to overhear his brother's conversation with an older lady at the counter. Apparently the woman must have also remembered Dean as they were talking like old friends.
"I'm so glad to hear that your brother is traveling with you, though the circumstances are certainly regrettable. I know how hard it was for you when he started to pull away. I know how hard it was for me when my own children started to grow up, wanted to do their own thing, thought they knew it all. It was worse for you though, I know. I mean most people, they have a life of their own, they grow up, get married, have a job, then they have kids. But you, you were still a child yourself trying to take care of little Sammy. It's amazing how kids become your whole world, but with you, he really was."
Sam was stunned. He had never thought of it that way. Trying to be quiet, Sam snuck back outside to wait while Dean paid for the room.
Dean had always been there for him, taking the place of an often absent father. Dean had always been trying to fix things for Sam, whether it was to beat up a bully at school or coming to his school play, taking the heat from Dad when Sam didn't want to train or protecting Sam during a hunt, just being there when Sam wanted to talk.
Dean had stayed even after turning eighteen. He had stayed to continue to take care of Sam so that their father could continue to hunt, continue to leave. Dean had stayed to continue being Dad's back up.
Yes, Dean had been there for both Sam and John, no matter what it had cost him. And how had Sam repaid him? He hadn't even talked to Dean about going to college. He had just sprung it on his brother at the last minute. Sam had been so worried about their father's reaction he hadn't even thought about Dean.
He had told Dean that leaving home was what eighteen year olds were supposed to do. But what would have happened to Sam if Dean had left as Sam had? How much worse would life have been?
For four years the brothers didn't even speak because Sam had lumped Dean in with their father, had wanted to leave everything about his old life behind.
He had thought of Dean, but he hadn't thought of Dean's feelings. When things had gotten hard during those first two years, his first thought was to call Dean, to have his older brother come and fix things for him. But Sam was stubborn and he hadn't wanted to admit defeat.
They had finished eating and were going over the information they had garnered about the victims. Sam sat in a chair, pushed away from the desk while Dean prowled the room, unable to sit still as usual. It was late and they were both tired and a little frustrated. No case was ever easy.
Sam caught Dean's wrist as the older man made another circuit by Sam's chair. With a hard tug, he pulled Dean forward onto his lap, hands immediately going to his brother's butt to hold the man straddling him close.
Dean's hands ended up on Sam's shoulders as the elder hunter fought for balance.
"Man, what deity's perverse sense of humor was it that decided you should be bigger?" Dean's complaint and overdone frown was expected and easily ignored.
Sam laughed and pulled Dean forward harder, thrusting his crotch up to rub against the other man's.
"I like it."
"You would, you're the one who's bigger."
But Dean's smile was pure sex as he leaned forward, the motion of his hips suggestive and inviting, teasing them both before giving Sam a small kiss.
Without warning, Sam hooked his arms under Dean's thighs and stood, dropping Dean on the bed behind. Dean's shocked expression at being manhandled was short lived, though, as Sam began removing his clothing, motivating Dean to do the same.
Sam leaned over his brother as soon as they were naked, kneeling over his brother as their lips met again.
Maneuvering his arms beneath Dean's torso, Sam flipped them over. Dean's smile was knowing as he began to move down Sam's body.
Sam stopped him with both hands, pulling on Dean's biceps to encourage the elder man to move up. Dean's face showed confusion but after a moment's hesitation he complied.
Comprehension didn't dawn on Dean's features until he was straddling Sam's chest. Sam lifted his head to lick at Dean's penis, but still his brother was wary. Sam used his hands to encourage.
Cautiously, Dean kneeled up to be in a better position and with a hand, pressed his sex into Sam's mouth. The first thrusts were slow and gentle despite Sam's hands on Dean's ass attempting to pull Dean in hard.
Giving in a little, Dean lifted his own hands to grip the top of the headboard ferociously. Sam waited until Dean had become more enthusiastic and less concerned that he would hurt the younger man. Then he lifted a hand and slid a finger inside his brother's open mouth.
Dean looked down with amusement as his lips closed around the digit, sucking and laving it without understanding Sam's ultimate goal. The finger was withdrawn and Sam maneuvered his right hand under his brother's spread thighs.
Slowly but firmly, Sam pressed the finger inside, up to the first knuckle. Dean gasped and jerked. Sam took that as encouragement and pressed the digit in further.
He knew that he had found his target when Dean's head came forward and his brother had spoken in that breathy deep voice, "There. God, right there, Sam."
Sam was transfixed by the view. Dean kneeling above him, muscles taut and straining as he sought his own pleasure, hips rolling to take advantage of both sensations, and the sounds, breathy moans and deep groans…Sam literally thought the headboard was in danger of breaking Dean was gripping it so hard.
And then Dean came with a series of erratic thrusts, forward and backward, biting his bottom lip to muffle garbled whimpered words.
Carefully he removed his finger and Dean collapsed onto the bed next to Sam. The younger man wasted no time, immediately turning towards his brother and laying soft kisses on Dean's face.
"Jesus, Dean. I want to make love to you…"
That was as far as he got. Dean's long lashes lifted immediately, unveiling those big green eyes that looked at Sam with what the younger man imagined was lust and longing and fear and apology.
"Sam, I need…" Dean's voice is thick clogged with the remnants of his orgasm and perhaps with emotion. "I just need a little time, to get used to all this."
Sam nodded. Despite the disappointment he felt, he couldn't, wouldn't press. He knew that Dean would more than likely give in if pressed and he didn't want to use his brother like that.
Instead he attacked Dean's mouth, sloppy hungry kisses that distract them both and thrusts his own erection in the groove between Dean's torso and his leg, that trough of muscle. It felt strangely intimate, sharing the same breath as his own orgasm swept through Sam.
Conscious of his greater weight, Sam rolled to the side before collapsing himself. Dean's breath had already evened out as he stroked a hand up the younger man's flank, easing his brother down.
It was long moments before Sam brain began to function again, and even longer until Sam got up the courage to ask what was weighing on his mind. Again, the younger Winchester just can't help himself, he had to ask, he always has.
"Dean…"
Dean must have sensed the chick-flick coming, felt it in the lines of his brother's body because he interrupted, trying to head off the inevitable.
"Do we have to talk Sam? Now? Can't we just lie here...?"
"Dean, I just have to ask. Has anyone…" God Sam could barely form the words and he knew his face had just turned five shades of red.
"Has anyone hurt you?"
Dean turned to look at his brother, leaning his head on a hand, confusion evident on his face.
"Hurt me?"
"I mean, sexually."
"What? Sam, has anyone touched you?"
He should have known. Dean's thoughts were immediately on Sam rather than himself, protective and concerned.
"No, Dean, never. I'm asking if anyone hurt you?"
"What? Why would you ask that?"
Dean sat up then, his voice becoming angry and indignant.
"I just…I don't know, we spent our childhoods in skeevy motel rooms and you were always going out alone to get things…and then you went to those bars when you were like fifteen…"
Dean's face was a scowl and he got up to put his boxers on, as if clothing would somehow make him feel less vulnerable. Sam sat up too as his brother began to pace.
"This is what you've been worrying about? You think that someone…" Dean was obviously having trouble even saying the words 'raped me', unable even to voice the concept and so the older man finished with "touched me?"
"No…I don't know…I mean Dad would be gone and we wouldn't know for how long, but you always took care of everything."
"Sam, when we were little, I always called Bobby or Pastor Jim to come get us if Dad wasn't home on time. And then when I got older, I tried to hold out longer…"
"You mean you stopped eating." Sam hadn't meant it to sound so accusatory.
Dean growled, obviously not wanting to go there. "It wasn't a big deal, Sam."
"Not a big deal, you were a kid Dean and you didn't have enough to eat. And I never even knew."
"You didn't need to know. It was my responsibility."
Sam couldn't help the tears that welled in his own eyes. "And you were just a kid in those bars, anything could have happened to you."
Responding to Sam's distress, Dean moved close again to take Sam into his arms. It just made Sam feel worse. Dean was the one who had gone hungry, Sam should have been comforting him.
"I handled it. I was careful. Stayed to well lit, well populated streets and bars, didn't even go to the bathroom. If a guy got angry, it was always broken up quickly…"
Pulling away, "Jesus Christ, Dean! You were fifteen and you knew all too well what happens to little boys caught alone. Like you said when you were a kid…"
"What?"
Sam took a breath to compose himself and his thoughts. "When you were turned into an eight year old, you said some guy in the parking lot of a motel tried to…"
Fear flashed briefly across Dean's features, before it was quickly buried. "Nothing happened."
"Enough happened, Dean. More than any kid should have to endure."
Dean pulled him back into a firm hug then, effectively ending the conversation as Sam worked hard to prevent the tears from falling.
