Sam stood in the middle of Singer's Salvage Yard as he stared at Dean's legs sticking out from under the impala. "Need any help?", he asked. "What you under a hood? I'll pass." Dean replied coldly. He slide out from under the car, walking over to a tool bench. "Anything else then?" Sam asked. "Stop it ok…stop asking if I need anything." Sam placed his hands on his hips. "Ok De it's just…we've been at Bobby's for almost 2 weeks now and you haven't said a word about Dad." Dean turned to look at his brother as he wiped grease from his fingers onto a rag. "You know what you're right. Come here I'll gently lay my head on your shoulder. Maybe we could cry and hug…maybe even slow dance." He said it in a sarcastic tone. Giving a fake grin as he spoke. "Don't patronize me Dean. Dad is dead and I'm pretty sure the demon is behind this." Dean scoffed at him. "What do you want me to say?" Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair. An agitated look on his face. "Anything Dean! Aren't you angry? I mean all you do is sit out here under fucking cars all day and push me away at night. I'm hurting too Dean. I'm trying to help us." Dean's voice grew angry. "I don't feel like fucking right now Sammy. But if you're that desperate for it I'll give it to you." Sam's jaw dropped open.
"How could you say that to me? This isn't about sex…I'm just trying to comfort you Dean. I know you're hurting right now. I'm not you're fucking cockwhore. You're the one that always has to get his dick wet to solve his problems so you tell me which one of us is desperate. Don't treat me like your punching bag." Dean flashed Sam a glare of warning. "We got nothing Sam. We got no leads. We can't make heads or tails of Dad's research. And besides that..." He advanced on Sam leaning up to his full height. "That's a lot of big talk you got there brother. I'm the desperate one? Which one of us started this hmm? Begging me to stick it in when you were only 16?" Sam also rose to his full height, towering over his older brother. "I was 18 our first time and you know it…" Sam stated. "Yeah after you'd been trying to throw that little jailbait ass at me for years." They pressed their chests together, clinching fists in anger. Sam's head was tilted down so that their foreheads were pressed together. Dean refused to let Sam's height seem to intimidate him. "I don't seem to remember you complaining about me throwing my 18 year old ass at you that first night." Dean smirked an almost wicked grin. Flashing his white teeth as he spoke. Sam would have found him ravishingly handsome in that moment had he not smiled with pure malice.
"Why should I have complained Sammy? I mean…you were just so damn easy. Straddling my dick, naked in the backseat." He paused his words just long enough to push Sam back against the impala, placing his hands on either side of the younger man's shoulders. "Grinding that sweet little virgin ass against my cock. So damn easy. Anybody would have done it. It's not everyday you get a little cock hungry slut ready to spread their legs and just let you in." Sam shoved Dean off of him. "Fuck you Jerk." The older Winchester laughed. He slammed his fist into Sam's left cheek. "Fuck you bitch." Sam didn't skip a beat, returning the attack, slamming his own fist right into Dean's nose. "I'm not like those skanks you used to bring home Dean. Don't fucking talk to me like that again or…" His threat trailed off as he clinched Dean's shirt in his fist. "Or what? You'll hit me again? Break up with me? You're right Sam, you weren't like the others, you were my perfect little brother who could do no wrong in his eyes. Which made sticking it to you just a little bit more fun. Perfect little Sammy. Always made perfect grades, always knew all the lore, always the smartest son, likes taking it up the ass from his big brother. But that's over now. I'm bored with you." Sam's grip on him weakened.
"Stop it Dean. You'll regret it later. You want to be alone fine…look we fight because we're brothers. But we're also lovers…we've got to stop saying things just to hurt each other." Dean pushed Sam's hand off him. "Nah Sammy. It's over. We're brother's. That's it." They just stood there for a moment. "Fine…that's how you want it to be then we're over. When you calm down maybe I'll take you back…maybe not." He turned, walking away, ignoring what Dean said next. "Take you back? You mean we will see how long it takes before you're grinding on my dick again begging for it like a little bitch." Dean paced the junk yard in anger. Mostly at himself because he knew Sam was right. He had always been prone to taking his anger out on his brother. But this time he knew he'd crossed a line. He picked up a crow bar, slamming it down into the trunk of one of the junk cars. He swung it down over and over again. As hard as he could. Again and again until the trunk was dented beyond repair. He tried to raise it again but his arms gave out in exhaustion so he just stood there, breathing heavy. Throwing the crow bar down to his feet, he marched back towards Bobby's house.
Once inside he found Bobby and Sam sitting in the living room. Bobby raised an eye brow as Dean sat in the old man's recliner, refusing to sit next to Sam on the couch. The Winchester's made zero eye contact, just staring off into opposite sides of the room. "Ok…what ever the fuck that's about. I found this old phone in John's stuff. It's got a message on it from a woman named Ellen. The message is four months old. I had Sam run a trace on the number and he got an address. I want you boys to check it out. See if there's a lead on what happened to John." He watched as the two sets of eyes glanced at one another briefly before darting back to staring at nothing again. "Now! Or do I have to sit here and watch your fucking lovers spat all damn day! Fucking idjits."
Dean slammed the impala into park In front of a run down bar called Harvelle's Roadhouse. The place was closed. They picked the lock, walking in to look around. A man was laying on a pool table towards the back of the room, seemingly passed out drunk. "I'm guessing that's not Ellen." Said Sam. He walked into the back to what he assumed was the kitchen. As Dean looked around some more he stopped dead in his tracks at the feeling of something pressed into his lower back. "Oh god please let that be a rifle." The voice that answered was that of a young woman. "Nah I'm just really happy to see you. Don't move." She followed it up with the sound of the gun being cocked. "You know you should know something Miss. When you put a rifle on somebody you don't wanna put it right against their back. Cause it makes it really easy to do…" He spun around in a flash taking the gun from her, ejecting the shell from the chamber. "That." He said, just before a pretty blond girl punched him square in the nose. She swung hard, causing him to stagger back as she snatched the gun right back, cocking it again and pointing it at him. "Sam, need some help in here." He called. "I can't see…I can't even see this is the second time in less than 24 hours. Fuck that hurts." He heard the kitchen doors swing open as Sam stepped out, his hands held together behind his head. "Sorry Dean, I can't right now. I'm a little tied up." An older blond woman walked out behind him, a colt python aimed at his head. The woman looked at them. "Sam? Dean?" She paused, "Winchester?" Dean glanced at her, still holding his hand against his nose, which was bleeding a little. "Yeah." He grunted out. "Mom you know these guys?" The younger girl asked. "Yeah I think these are John Winchester's boys." She laughed, flashing a smile, lowering the gun. "Hey I'm ellen. That's my daughter Jo."
She sat them down at the bar, handing a bag of ice to Dean, which he held against his nose. "So you called our dad and said you could help. Help with what?" Dean asked "The demon, I heard he was closing in on it" Dean scoffed at her. "Who the hell are you anyways?" She leaned back against the bar. "I just run a saloon. Hunters come through from time to time. John used to be like family." "Yeah well how come we've never heard of you before?" Dean asked. "Hey if you don't want my help that's fine, but John wouldn't have sent you unless…" She looked at them, her face growing soft. "He didn't send you. Sam looked down at the floor, Dean slowly snuck a glance at Sam. He stared off, swallowing hard as she asked, "He's alright isn't he?" Dean stared blankly off into the distance. Sam sighed, looking up at her. "No…no he isn't. It was the demon, we think. Um…it just got him before he got it I guess." She had a sort of pained sadness in her gaze. "I'm so sorry." She offered. "Really lady we're fine." Dean snapped, his eyes giving the demand to drop the subject. "Well we can't help you. But Ash will." The boys looked confused. "Ash!" She called out. The man sleeping on the pool table sprung up, spinning around. "What? Is it closing time?"
Ash who was apparently some sort of genius, told the boys that given 51 hours he could set up a way to make better use of John's research. Sam made conversation with Ellen, refusing to react to Dean glancing at Jo's ass as she walked around the bar. He knew Dean wasn't really gay. That it was just something he told women while they were together because it was better than I'm fucking my brother. Dean rose from his stool, following her. He sat down at a table she was wiping off. "How'd your mom get into this stuff anyway?" He asked. "My dad, he was a hunter. He passed away." She glanced down. Dean apologized. Smiling at her when she said she was just a kid when it happened. He was turning on his charm. "So I guess I got 51 hours to waste. Maybe tonight we could..." He trailed off. "You know what never mind…wrong place wrong time." She giggled a little. "I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pick up line. Bunch of hunters think they can get in my pants with some pizza a six pack and side one of Led Zeppelin IV." He smirked a bit. "What a bunch of scumbags." She smiled. "Not you." Sam cleared his throat standing at the door, agitation clearly written on his face. "Dean come on."
Ellen offered to let them stay at her place but Sam humbly declined. Opting to find a motel instead. He knew they shouldn't be around other people right now. Nobody else needed to know about them. They were bound to start fighting again when they were alone with a bed. Which they did once they were inside the room behind locked doors. "Why'd we have to rush out of there like that?" Sam didn't reply, he fished around in his bag for his tooth brush. "You get jealous little brother?" Sam walked to the bathroom. "Fuck off Dean." He stood in front of the sink, squeezing tooth paste onto the brush. Dean came up behind him pressing into his back, causing the sink to dig into his hip bone. He hissed at the pain. "Dean what are you doing?" If he was perfectly honest he didn't know. He just stood there, his half hard cock pressed into Sam's ass cheek. He was angry still. But Sam seemed to be unfazed by their break up. Which made him feel the need to show Sam what he was missing. "Dean…you broke up with me. This isn't what normal brothers do. Fuck off." Dean felt himself going soft. "I don't know how anymore…to be a normal brother." Their eyes met in the mirror. "I don't want you to be anything but you. I just want us to be us." Sam said. Dean wasn't ready yet. He couldn't let it go. He had to stay angry with Sam so he didn't think about what was really wrong. He was lost. It had been 2 weeks and his body craved Sam's, yet he still wouldn't let himself. He turned tail, walking out of the bathroom saying. "It's not like I want you back…it's just old habits blah blah." Sam could still feel his warmth as he brushed his teeth so hard his gums bled. His eyes staring into the mirror, empty.
They worked a case the next day. Nothing major, however Dean got a kick out of the fact that it dealt with clowns. Sam was deathly afraid of clowns. (And so am I which is why I'm skipping all of it. I can't believe I even mentioned it.) After they killed the monster, they returned to the roadhouse to check up on Ash's progress. Ellen handed them beers telling them how proud John would have been of them. Jo eyed Sam as she leaned against the bar. He smiled before he took the hint. Dean looked up at him as he stumbled with his words. "Oh yeah…I gotta go…over there….right now." Dean tipped his beer up taking a drink before turning to watch Sam as he moved to the other side of the room. Sam watched them. Hating himself. Hating having to pretend like they were just brothers. Hating that Dean was technically single again and free to get with anyone he wanted. Everything had been going so perfect. He'd even gotten Dean to commit to actual boyfriend status. It had moved from being just sex and love for family into true love. And he knew that love was real. Dean was pushing him away, and he knew why. But it didn't make it hurt any less. He pressed the cold metal of the ring Dean had given him against his lips. He couldn't take it off. It was the symbol of their love, he'd never throw it away again. If Dean could wear his for two years faithfully he could do the same.
He watched Dean sit there. Staring at his beer. He was so handsome. His hair styled perfectly, his strong jaw line flawlessly shaven. He was wearing Sam's favorite blue button up shirt. The nice one that clung to his sculpted body, making you think he was some sort of Greek sex god. He wore tight straight legged dark colored jeans that perfectly cupped his ass and length, which gave a peek to anyone curious enough to glance, that yes his cock was as big as they were imagining. He felt his heart break as he heard Jo speak. "So…am I going to see you again?" Dean turned his head slightly. "Do you want to?" she smiled, her long blond curls falling over her shoulders. "I wouldn't hate it." He looked away from her as he spoke. "Can I be honest with you? See the old me…well he'd be hitting on you so fast your head would spin, but uh…these days…I don't know." He shook his head looking down at his beer bottle. "Wrong place wrong time? It's ok I get it. Who's the woman that broke your heart?" She said.
As if with perfect timing Ash burst through the doors from the back. A strange looking laptop in his hands. "Where the hell you guys been? I've been waiting for ya." Sam placed his beer down on the table he leaned against. "We were working a job, Ash." Ash seemed confused. "Clowns?" Sam offered up. "Clowns? What the fuck?" Ash blurted out. Dean smirked at the man. "Got something for us?" Sam followed with, "Did you find the demon?" He placed the laptop down on the bar between Jo and Dean. Sam smirked in satisfaction at this as he joined them at the bar. "No there's no signs but if it raises it's head I'll know. I'm on it like divine of dog dookie." He turned the laptop screen towards them. The windows on the screen showed all sorts of police scanners, weather and news trackers, among other things. "Any signs or omens anywhere in the world this baby is gonna go off like a fire alarm." They said their goodbyes after agreeing that Ash would call them when he found anything. It was the most painful car ride back to Bobby's for both of them. Silence until Dean turned the radio on. Sam stared out the window as the sounds of 'Hard to say I'm Sorry' by Chicago came through the speakers. Dean let the song play half way before changing the tape to play 'Have you ever seen the rain' by CCR. The meaning behind it not lost to Sam.
A few weeks passed. They bounced around as they got calls from Bobby and Ellen about different hunts. Dean threw himself into hunting like it were a life line. Sam watched in silent worry. Dean wasn't taking John's death well in the slightest. Sam knew the real reason they were broken up was because Dean didn't have to talk to him about it if he forced himself to be alone. Sam would toss and turn at night in fear of how empty Dean was becoming. Dean would sit up fidgeting as he watched Sam's restlessness, ignoring the impulse to hold Sam. The Winchester's had always been stubborn. They slept in separate beds, sat in silence in the car as the radio played. Always sad heartbroken songs or angry heavy rock. Today's choice was angry rock, turned up to full volume, blasting through the speakers so no words could be spoken over the noise. Sam stared blankly out the window as the sounds of Metallica's 'Fade to black' filled the air. 'Emptiness is filling me to the point of agony. Growing darkness taking dawn. I was me but now he's gone…' Sam sighed. Great, he'd moved to the self-loathing stage. From here the older Winchester would only grow increasingly more dangerous. Dean turned the volume dial down as Sam's phone rang. "Yeah…ok…yeah…thanks Ellen." Sam hung up the phone as Dean spoke his first words to him all day. "What'd she say?" Sam sipped his coffee. "A hotel in Cornwall Connecticut. Two freak accidents in the past 3 weeks." Dean didn't make a sound. "It's a job De. A lady drown in a bathtub and a guy fell down the stairs. His head did a complete 180. It might be nothing but I told Ellen we'd check it out." Dean nodded but again said nothing as Sam took a map out and began giving him directions for the fastest route.
The impala pulled up in front of the Peirpont Inn. A creepy looking place, it seemed old, like it held secrets within its walls. As the boys got out of the car Dean gave a small smile. "Dude we never get to work jobs like this!" Sam threw his bag over his shoulder, shutting the car door. "Like what?" he said, handing Dean his own bag. "Old school haunted houses. You know…fog, secret passageways. Sissy British accents." Sam gave a chuckle. As they paced up the stairs to the front door, Sam noticed something on a planter to his right. "Hey hold on a sec, I'm not so sure haunted is the problem. You see that?" Dean moved down the stairs. Standing close, but leaving enough space so that he couldn't feel Sam's warmth. Sam pretended not to notice. He pushed his feelings down, clearing his throat. He pointed at a symbol on the planter that looked like an X with a red dot in the center, as well as one on each tip. "That's a Quincunx." Dean seemed in thought for a second. "That's used for hoodoo spellwork isn't it?" Sam nodded. "Yeah you feel this thing with bloodweed, you got a charm that wards off enemies." Dean looked around at the building. "Yeah except I don't see any blood weed."
They walked inside to find a brown haired woman standing behind the front desk. "Hi may I help you?" She said, smiling sweetly. "Yeah I'd like a room for a few nights.", Dean replied, approaching the front desk. A young girl ran into the room, laughing loudly. She bumped into Sam as she passed. The woman apologized to them. Sam smiled, "No problem." She wrote down their information in the hotel ledger as she eyed them. " Congrats, you're likely some of our last guests, were closing up at the end of the month. Let me guess you guys are here antiquing?" Dean loved when people gave them a story. Saves him the trouble of coming up with something himself. "How'd you know?" she gave a knowing smile as she replied. "Oh you just look the type. So…uh…king size bed?" Dean gave her a shocked look as Sam stumbled his words out. "What? No. Uh…were brothers. Two singles please." She laughed nervously. "Oh I'm so sorry…"
Dean looked annoyed, Sam looked sad. Dean pressed her, angry with himself more than her. "What'd you mean we look the type?" She had the look of a small animal cornered by a hungry wolf. Sam interrupted, "Hey speaking of antiques, that's a nice urn you have out front. Where did it come from?" She shook her head. "Oh I don't know it's been there for forever. Here you go sir." She handed Dean his credit card, turning to grab a skeleton key from the wall behind her. "You'll be staying in room 237." She rang a bell on the counter. An older man walked into the lobby. "Sherwin could you show these gentlemen to their room please?" She asked as he eyed the brothers from head to toe. "Let me guess, antiquers?"
As they reached room 237 Sherwin unlocked the door handing Sam the key. Sam entered first with Dean close behind. Sam sat at a table placed in the corner of the room looking through articles about the victims as Dean paced around the room eyeing the décor with distaste. "Geez, I'm amazed they've stayed in business this long." Sam ignored his complaints, but took note of his fidgeting. It had been almost two months since Dean had ended their physical relationship and it was starting to show. Throwing himself into hunts wasn't quite taking the edge off as well as it did at first. His pent up sexual tension mixed with his anger over John's death left Dean like a grenade with the pin pulled. He was bound to explode at any second.
He was becoming increasingly more aggressive. Two weeks ago they worked a case with vampires. Dean knocked the beast to the ground below a mounted chainsaw rig, but instead of cutting it's head clean off to end the fight, he took his time. It started with heavy, brutal, unnecessary punches to the vamps face. Followed by stabbing it in the heart with a spear like object he'd found near by on the fishing boat they were on. Finally it finished with Dean's jaw clinching tight as he lowered the saw, letting it slowly slice through the flesh of the vamps neck. He gave a deep animalistic moan. Sam grimaced at the sound. It was as if Dean got off on it. Like he was aroused by the feeling of blood splattering onto his face followed by the crunching of bones. His eyes were like empty pits, void of any emotion. The only light within was a stormy emerald nothingness. Dean turned to lock eyes with Sam as the vamps head hit the floor, licking blood from his lips.
Sam shook his head, pushing the memories away. As he started to speak Dean sat on an old couch in the middle of the suite, feeling himself sink down into it uncomfortably. He bounced his foot rapidly while his fingers spun his ring around and around. Fidgeting…any second now the grenade would blow. And Sam would be caught in the blast. Just how this would end for him? That he just didn't know.