Sam forced his eyes open, the nightmare still fresh and ingrained in his memory. It paired with the bright sun and made him groan, his body stiff and uncomfortable. He pushed the passenger door open and swung his legs around, just taking in the surroundings. They were by an old gas station and in his peripheral he could see Dean pumping gas.

"Breakfast?" Dean asked him as he plopped the snacks onto the trunk. Food was the very last thing on Sam's mind, however. He wasn't able to keep food down in the morning, not after that dream. He'd have to wait until later. He declined Dean's offer and proceeded to scold his older brother for the credit card fraud. He was only half-joking though and that little fact made Dean smile.

It got more annoying though when Sam commented on his music taste and the fact that he was still using cassette tapes. But only slightly. There was still that playful edge in Sam's voice, even if it was a little strained. Dean only grinned as he grabbed a tape and put it in, blasting the music at full volume, much to Sammy's dismay.

It almost felt normal, being with him like that. Like how brothers were supposed to be, Dean supposed. But he knew the need to run his fingers through Sammy's long hair is what made any hope for them to be normal slim to none. He wanted so much more than normal and it still wasn't fair. He could easily intertwine his fingers with his little brother's if things didn't work out the way they did. They were both too guarded to give in that quickly, anyway.

Sam was in love with his girl. He moved on and Dean tried his best to tell himself that it was for the best. It had to be. What they had.. it was toxic. Dean knew his little brother deserved better, deserved to be happy. It still didn't stop the burning bitterness in the pit of his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it. They had a job to do and it just wasn't the time to dwell on that stuff.

Sam stared out the window and tried his best to ignore each glance he'd get from his older brother. It made him nervous. Like one wrong move would set off their impending argument, their Big Discussion. The thought left the biggest lump in his throat, made his hands shake-but only slightly. He wasn't going to let Dean see these little signs of weakness. And so, he just stared quietly out of the window and almost didn't notice when Dean stopped the car.

Police cars were lined up in front of an old bridge, blocking both sides. Dean nodded to himself as he leaned over Sam to get to the glove compartment, just so he could pull out a small box. Sam watched as his older brother looked through the fake badges and ID's with an open mouth. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this shit again. Dean didn't look phased however as he finally came across the badges he needed. He gave Sammy a grin, his little brother's face just too priceless. Dean got out of the car first, Sam heaving out a sigh before finally following behind.

"Spotless. Almost too clean." A cop said as he looked through an abandoned car. It had to be the victim's, no doubt about it. As the cop talked back and fourth with another the brothers made their way over to them. Dean spoke first, Sam just watching.

"You fellas had another one like this last month, didn't you?" The cop stood up straight at the sound of Dean's voice, his eyes narrowing as he stared down at the two young men in front of him, "And who are you?" The uniformed man asked.

"Federal marshals." Dean answered swiftly, raising his badge for the officers to see. The one standing in front of them eyed the boys up and down, suspicion etched in his brows. Dean didn't waver and Sam didn't understand why. It always felt wrong to him to impersonate people like that. He hoped in that moment it didn't show as the cop proceeded to point out how young they looked.

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." The oldest Winchester said through a dry laugh. "You did have another one just like this, correct?" He asked again, stirring the conversation back to where it needed to be. The very kind cop confirmed that they did have something like that happen just a mile up the road from where they were standing, and that there were others before that.

"So this victim-you knew him?" The officer nodded in response to Sam's question, his face grim. Dean circled around the car as his little brother spoke to the cop, trying his best to connect all the dots he could. He needed more information.

"Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Dean inquired, and of course the cop said no. "So, what's the theory?" Sam gave as he looked around the vehicle himself.

"Honestly? We don't know. Serial murderer, kidnapping ring-"

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean cut him off with his own snide comment that he hadn't exactly been trying to hold back. Sammy stepped on his foot in response. He couldn't believe what a jerk his brother could be. He forced a smile at the cop who he knew was just trying his best. "Thank you for your time." Sam said before walking away. He could feel Dean behind him and it made his skin burn. It turned into pure irritation when he smacked the back of his head.

"What was that for?!"

"Why did you have to step on my foot?"

"Why do you have to talk to police like that?"

They bickered back and forth about the case and their dad and barely even noticed the three figures standing behind them, staring at them like they had no business being there. They let the sheriff know that they were leaving and walked on. They could just about feel his stare on their back as they finally made it back to the Impala.

Despite that awkward interaction, they continued with the investigation. The brothers took their search into the town and found a girl putting up missing persons flyers. Dean had overheard the cops talking about how the recent victim's girlfriend had been doing just that, and for the moment it was their only lead.

She gave them what she knew, that she'd been on the phone with the victim but he hung up and never called her back. Sam remembered to show sympathy but still get his questions across. The girl couldn't remember anything strange coming from her late boyfriend, but Dean was adamant. The girl's friend chimed in finally and brought up the rumors. "With all these guys going missing.. people talk."

"What do they talk about?" The brothers said in perfect unison. That wasn't something they did on purpose, but Dean remembered that they used to do that a lot growing up. Again, he pushed all that to the side so he could fully understand what the gothic girl was saying.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial like decades ago." Dean looked at Sam as she spoke, ideas already popping in his head as to what it could be, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchikes, and whoever picks her up.. they disappear forever." That was all they needed from them. The brothers thanked them for their time and then took their invesitagtion the library, where Dean searched the web for any female murder hitchhiking stories in the area. When that didn't work, he searched for female murder on Centennial Highway. Zero results stared back at them from the small screen.

"Let me try." Sam reached for the keyboard but Dean smacked his hand out of the way. "I got it." The older brother said in his new condescending way. Sammy gave him a look of disbelief before forceably pushing his chair out of the way. "You're such a control freak." Dean mumbled as he watched Sam. He was pretty irrtiable. Being around his little brother left him on edge. He was almost starting to regret getting him, but not really. There was still that part of him that was happy to be beside him again, even if he tried to push those feelings away.

"Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Dean gave a deadpanned yeah in response. "Maybe it's not murder." Sam quickly changed the keyword murder to suicide. And before they knew it they were faced with just one result-the exact one they needed. Dean couldn't deny that he was impressed with his Sammy for coming up with that. He'd never say it outloud though.

"This was in 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Slycania Bridge, drowns in river." Sam read the obituary out loud, searching for something more. Any normal person would be saddened reading that, but he was used to stuff like that and so was Dean. "Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked as he tried to read over Sammy's shoulder.

"Yeah.. An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." And in a second the hard shell around Sam cracked slightly. He always was softer than his brother and father. He hoped Dean didn't notice.

"'Our babies were gone and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband, Joseph Welch.." Sam read as he scrolled down, the last picture of a bridge. The very same bridge they were on that morning. By the time they got there there it was late, the bridge seemed a lot higher in the dead of night. But it was the perfect time for an vengeful spirit to pop up, they guessed.

"So this is where Constance did the swan dive.." Dean said like a douche. Sam sighed and looked around, "So you think dad would have been here?" Sammy asked, a slight attitude etched in his voice. Dean's presence prickled at his skin and left him on edge. He wished Jessica was there beside him to keep him steady. But that would also mean having to tell her everything and he wasn't exactly ready to do that. Would never be ready to do that.

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him." Dean breathed as he walked away and studied the area. There was a heavy fog and it made him just a little uneasy. "Okay, so now what?" Sam's voice was so impatient, like he was just so ready to leave Dean behind once again. "Now we keep digging 'till we find him. It might take a while."

"Dean, I told you I've got to get back by-"

"Monday. Right. The interview." The oldest winchester sighed as he remembered. "You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?" The thought started something inside Dean, something less than anger but well above annoyance.

"Maybe. Why not?" Sam thought back to the ring sitting safely in his duffel. That was exacltly his plan. He watched as Dean gave a dry laugh. "Does Jessica know the truth about you? Does she know about the things you've done?" Does she know that you let your brother fuck you? Sam knew that couldn't have been what Dean meant, that he was talking about hunting, but it still made him shudder to think about Jess knowing. Either one would make her bolt.

"No, and she's not ever going to know." Sam was dead serious. Dean could see it in his eyes. He looked older in that single moment and Dean didn't know how to take it. "Well, that's healthy." He settled for sarcasm at first, but soon turned just as serious as his baby brother was.

"You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're gonna have to face up to who you really are." He shrugged as he turned away. He could feel Sam behind him, his annoyance adding to his own. "And who is that?" Sam asked, his voice tight.

"One of us." Dean's answer was short and simple. Sammy didn't like that.

"No." He said defiantly, "I am not like you. This is not going to be my life." He made sure he finished his sentence standing directly in front of his older brother. Though he stood taller than Dean, he didn't seem phased. "Well, you have a responsibility-"

"To dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what mom looked like. What difference would it make?" Dean was dangerously close to becoming pissed but for whatever reason he let Sam continue, "Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

That was it. That was all Dean could take. He gripped at Sam's jacket and pushed him up against the railings. He was pissed that Sam could just talk about her like that without a care. He wanted to hit him, put him in his place-but there was a part of him, the part that loved him in more ways than one, that made him keep his fists down.

Sam's heart pounded in his chest. He knew he went too far as soon as the words came out of his mouth. He waited for the punch, or the slap, or whatever Dean was gonna give him. But there was nothing at first, just Dean looking up at him with angry, hesitant eyes. Sammy was reminded in an instant why they shouldn't be standing so close. Despite Dean being angry with him, it made old feelings creep up and that was dangerous.

"Don't talk about her like that." Dean's voice was softer than he meant it to be. His anger dissapated and was replaced by something else, something that made him want to to hold his Sammy. That one thought was his cue to finally let go of Sam and back up. The youngest Winchester rubbed at his mouth, ashamed. All he wanted to do was apologize but he didn't get the chance, because Dean called out his name.

When he looked up, the first thing he saw was a woman in a long white gown, standing up on the edge of the railing. She gave them one look before finally jumping off. The brothers ran to the spot where she fell but there was nothing, no evidence of a body dropping. They had no idea where she went but they definitely didn't expect to here the Impala start from behind them.

"Who's driving your car?" Dean showed him his keys, a hint that no one really should be able to do that. Despite that little detail, the tires squealed and came after them both at full speed. They could barely think, they could only run, their only escape over the bridge.

Sam clung to the side of it, his eyes scanning frantically for his brother. An audible sigh of relief came from him once he saw Dean crawl out of the water and onto land. "Are you alright?" Sam had to ask just in case. The oldest Winchester rolled over so he could look up at him, his body covered in mud, "Super."

Sammy couldn't help but laugh.

...

Once they arrived to the closest motel, they discovered that their father had stayed there as well, and for the whole month. It felt like they were one step closer to finding him. And then it felt like two steps closer as they broke into his room. Papers were all over the walls, a map of his case, their case. Dean looked around the room and noticed just about every form of protection scattered across the room. Dad was always a precautious one. Dean hoped that helped and he was out in the world, safe. Or as safe as their life granted, anyway.

"Dad figured it out." The answer was staring Sam right in the face. Literally. "He found the same article we did." Sammy explained when Dean asked what he meant, "Constance Welch. She's a Woman in White."

It was then it all came together for the oldest brother. "You sly dogs." He joked as he looked over the wall with all of the victim's pictures. "All right, so if we're dealing with a Woman in White, dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it." Dean sounded so sure but Sam wasn't convinced.

"She might have another weakness." It wasn't that Sam thought his father didn't burn the body. The fact of the matter was that Constance was still out there claiming victims, so obviously her spirit was tied to something else.

"No, dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?" Of course, Dean wouldn't have it, their father could never make even a single mistake. Sam sighed and held that thought in, they already were on shaky ground.

"No, not that I can tell. If I were dad, though, I'd go ask her husband-if he's still alive." Dean hummed in response to Sam, the main thing on his mind after learning all that was a long shower. He could kinda feel his little brother's eyes on him as he walked away and almost dreaded having to look back when he called his name.

The look on his face caused his heart to skip a beat. He looked just like he did before, young and a little timid. Dean felt the urge once again to wrap him in his arms but he stayed put and waited for Sam to finally speak.

"What I said earlier about mom and dad.. I'm sorry. I crossed the line. I'll try not to do it again." He even sounded like he used to. Hazel eyes looked down at him through long lashes, his arms stiff by his sides. The only thing that truly stopped Dean from pulling him into a tight embrace was the fact he smelled like a sewer. He was thankful for that fact for the moment.

"That's..look. No chick-flick moments, alright? It's okay."

Sam scoffed. "Alright.. Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean's smile was contagious.

Sam watched as he walked a way, the prickling sensations he'd been feeling that whole time were finally gone for the moment. He stepped back and took in a deep breath. So far being next to his brother again wasn't too bad. Dean was more of a dick than he remembered but that was to be expected with what happened between them. It wasn't like he expected Dean to take him into his arms and forgive him. It wasn't like he wanted Dean to kiss him and say he missed-No. He wanted so badly to shake those thoughts away, but it was too late.. his body was already responding.

Dean was struggling, too. He washed the dirt and grime from his body and also tried his best to scrub way those annoying little urges to take Sammy in his arms and kiss him deeply. He knew all too well how wrong it was to feel that way, but he sorta came to terms with it, though it's not as easy without liquor. It was even harder to ignore with Sammy in the next room. Knowing that he was so close, that if he took the chance and gave in.. shit. Dean felt the familiar coils of heat rush to his groin.

Sam laid flat against the mattress, his cock fully hard and nearly suffocated by his jeans. He tried his best to fight it, he really did, but flashes of that night consumed him like a wild fire. He could hear the shower running and knew Dean would be in there for awhile so he gave in, despite it being the worse possible time and place. His mind was too far gone to care as he released his length, his thumb smoothing over the leaking slit.

Dean pictured Sam pushed up against the shower wall, his long legs wrapped around his big brother's waist as he fucked into him. "My Sammy.." Dean breathed as his hand worked down his thick cock, his eyes shut as he imagined his baby brother making his sweet sounds in his ear. And then suddenly a new image popped up, something he never truly thought he'd like: Sam towered over him from behind him, licking at the shell of his ear as he thrusted inside of Dean's virgin ass. The change was strange but telling from the way a choked out groan spilled from his throat, he enjoyed it regardless, maybe a little too much. He knew he wouldn't last long once his hips started to move at their own rhythm. Soon enough his orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, his come shooting out and hitting the shower wall.

Sam swam in the pleasure, biting his lip to surpress any noise. The memory of Dean on top of him with his hands in his hair left him breathless. He wanted so badly to fuck himself with his fingers but he knew there'd be no time, so he just settled for the memory, that was good enough. Espescially since Dean was right there in the next room. It made it easier to imagine him walking out butt naked, cock hard and ready to take him, marking him and claiming him as his. "You're mine, Sammy." He apolozied just about a million times to Jess in his head as he shamfully came into his hand.

...

Sam could still hear the shower running after he cleaned himself off. He sat at the corner of the bed and scanned the room, looking over all of the clues and connections his dad found. His eyes stopped once he saw an old picture in the mirror. He stood up and brought it in his hands, a deep feeling of shame and longing taking over him once he realized what it was.

A younger John Winchester holding his sons, looking seemingly happy. Sam looked about four and Dean had to be near eight. His eyes went back to his father, an ache in his chest that he never thought he would feel again. For the first time since he was just a kid, he actually felt worried for his dad. It brought him back to when he was ten and a half, when he wasn't old enough to go on hunts, but old enough to take care of himself. He'd have to watch Dean and his dad leave and sometimes they'd be gone for nearly a week. He'd be scared, anxious that they'd never come home, or that only one of them would.

That was exactly how he felt then, in that motel room with his dad's belongings all around him. It brought on a sudden realization: that was exactly what he was doing to Jess. He hadn't touched his phone the whole day, what if she had called? He pulled his phone out of his duffel and sat at the end of the bed, his heart dropping to his stomach when he realized she did try to call. At least twice, even left a voicemail. She was out there waiting for him and there he was, freshly jacked off at the thought of his own brother.

He hated himself all over again. Like he did when he spent all those years pining over Dean, when he finally had him and threw it all away, and right in that exact moment when he felt himself slipping back into that dark place, the place where his brother took over his senses and there'd be no room for anything else. He took in a deep breath and let it out slow, his fingers running through his messy hair. He couldn't let himself get back into that place, no matter how much he still loved Dean, no matter how much it physically hurt to not be touching him.

All that mattered was Jessica. That sweet little thing still in California, waiting on him, expecting him back. He plays the voicemail, listens to her voice, "hey, it's me. It's about 10:20.." Dean walks out of the bathroom right then, pullinghis jacket over his shoulders.

"I'm headed to the diner across the street. Want anything?" Sam just shakes his head at his brother's offer, trying his best to listen to Jessica's every word. He shrugged and made his way outside. Sam brought his attention fully back to the phone, "...So come home soon, okay? I love you."

Just as the voicemail ended, his phone rang. "What?" He didn't mean to sound annoyed, but he was just so irritated at himself that there was no way he could hide it.

"Dude, five-o. Take off." Everything Sam was feeling in that moment vanished. He stood up quick, "What about you?" He heard a small, dry laugh come from the other line, "Uh, they kind of spotted me. Go find dad." And that was the last thing Sam heard before the call dropped.

...