Author/Banshee Queen: "Chapter 3 is here! Sorry guys for putting it off this far, assignments & tests came up & you know how nasty they are & how bloody long they can take- but never fear! I am writing up Chapter 4 as you read this line so its all good. :D You're in for some humour with this chapter guys so read on..."

Disclaimer: "I don't own the Supernatural characters etc etc"

Chapter 3: Admit Your Fears

Sam sighed loudly and sank down against the couch, massaging his temples thoroughly as Dean picked up the discarded remote and sat down next to his brother, propping up both feet on the overturned coffee table.

"Man I should win the 'Best Brother of the Year Award'."

Sam smiled timidly, still trying to slow down his breathing and unexpectedly pulled out a puffer from his back pocket. Dean just stared at him in shock as he took deep breaths and inhaled the contents.

"I didn't know you had asthma."

"Yeah well maybe if you'd-", another puff, "paid attention, you'd know."

The older Winchester quirked an eyebrow.

"I pay attention", Sam shot his brother a cynical look, "does Dad know about this?"

The younger Winchester nodded vigorously, "He's known since day one."

Dean clutched his breast protectively as if he'd been shot, frowning at the same time.

"Well how come he never told me?"

"It's called a secret Dean, and he knows you can't keep one so that's why he never told you."

"Sammy", Dean frowned exasperatedly, "who in the world would I tell that you have asthma?"

"It's Sam, and most probably the girl you'd be at-the-time dating, or…", at Dean's raised eyebrow in expectation, Sam blushed and rambled on, "uhh, never mind. I mean, for all we know she could be a demon in disguise out to get us."

Again Dean rose an eyebrow mockingly, "A demon in disguise? Out to get us? Man you are a piece of work little brother."

"Think outside the square you live in damit", came Sam's murmured reply as he stuffed the puffer back into his pocket, "by the way Deanie", Dean glared at his brother contemptuously, "was that a little yelp of fear I heard from before?"

Dean glared at his brother hard, throwing daggers with the irritated glint in his eyes, "Me? Yelp? Come on Sam. I didn't scream."

"Oh so you're saying that you did make some form of noise that came out as a scream, but wasn't a scream? Well this is rich dearest brother."

The older Winchester recoiled from his brother's sudden frightening grin, pointing a finger at him as if to place an invisible barrier between the two which was meant not for Sam to cross.

"You're scaring me Sammy, stop it."

"Oooooooh looks like little ol' Dean does have a weak spot. I knew it!" The younger Winchester jumped onto the couch and pointed his finger at his brother. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! You are scared of Teletubbies!" Dean continued to watch his brother hysterically jump up and down on the couch shouting deafeningly at him, "You do have a fear of Teletubbies except you just don't want to admit to it because you're afraid!"

The older Winchester's green eyes darted around the room frantically as the walls guarding this obscene fear of his, came crashing down.

"Well look at those things Sammy! They sing, they dance, they coo! As if you wouldn't be scared of them!"

"HA! So you are implying that you have a fear of them! Nailed ya'!"

"Yeah so?"

"HA! Nailed ya' again!"

"Sam, shut up."

"No! Admit that you're scared of them!"

"What is there to admit if I'm not even afraid of the damn things!" Hissed Dean.

Now it was Sam's turn to raise an eyebrow in question.

"But you just implied that you were scared of them. You even specified what was freaky about them."

"Sam just quit it alright!"

"No! Admit it asshole!"

Dean whipped his head left to look at his brother so suddenly that Sam thought he had broken something in the back of his neck.

"Did you just call me an asshole?"

"Wow, someone's hard of hearing", yawned Sam, slouching lower into his seat.

"You are soooooooooo asking for a punch in the head Sammy."

"It's Sam", growled the younger Winchester glaring at his brother.

"Oooooooh and what are ya' gonna' do to me if I call you Sammy again", Sam shook his head slightly, as if to scold him, "…Sammy."

"This!"

With one swift movement, Sam was out of his seat, had grabbed hold of Dean's head and slammed it down hard onto the overturned coffee table.

"You bastard", winched Dean, stroking the spot tenderly which was now turning into a nasty red lump.

"Yeah well you shouldn't-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!"

Dean screamed as he dive-tackled Sam around the legs and rammed him into a wall back-first. Dean raised an eyebrow in question when the younger Winchester moaned in pain as he looked at the blood on his fingertips and turned around to look at the wall. Dean eye's widened in horror as he realized the back of Sam's head had hit the front of a glass framed painting.

"Sammy I didn't mean to, let me-

WHAM!

The younger Winchester's heavy punch sent Dean flying halfway across the room.

"Bitch! I'm prolly gonna' have to have stitches because of you!"

Dean, still seeing stars, immediately scrambled to his feet groggily. If Sammy wanted to play, he'd play, but what Sammy didn't realize was that Dean made the rules of the game, and it'd only be a matter of time before the younger Winchester would loose.

"Did you just call me a bitch?"

"Well what do you think asshole?" Questioned Sam angrily, planting both hands on his hips firmly.

"You called me a bitch twice?" Dean questioned incredulously.

"No shit-

Sam never got to finish his sentence before a dark blue vase came hurtling straight in his line of vision.

CLASH!

The vase broke into a million pieces once connecting with Sam's forehead, in the process producing a deep cut on his forehead which forced an agitated but cutting moan from Sam's lips.

"You wanna' play Sammy?" Asked Dean cockily, shadow looming monstrously huge over Sam and growing larger with each step he took backwards towards the window, "well I'll play", the younger Winchester's green eyes filled with animosity, flickered as he raised them to his brother's level, "but just don't forget one thing little Sammy."

"And what might that be Dean?" Snickered the younger Winchester.

"That I was always the better brother."

"Fuck you Dean!"

Dean felt his heart miss more than one beat as he just by inches missed Sam's wide swing. The younger Winchester had somehow in the space of a few seconds ripped a stand lamp –plug and all- from where it stood, and was now using it as a bat against his older brother.

Dean hopped from one corner of the room to the other, tripping over the already overturned coffee table and managing to give Sam enough time to get in a couple of good hits to the gut.

"Truce, truce!" Pleaded the older Winchester, holding up both hands and trying to nurse his sore stomach at the same time.

"Didn't think about that when you payed me out about having a goddamn fear of Teletubbies, now did you Dean?"

CRACK!

Sam brought the lamp down swiftly from above his head as if he were using an axe, and sent Dean reeling backwards into the wall, where he slid down quickly, landing on his butt hard and finally sat slumped to one side, cradling his nose tenderly. Sam clenched his grip even tighter around the shaft of the lamp once he saw the gleam of malevolence flash in Dean's eyes fiercely.

CRAAAAAAAACK!

Dean winced in pain as he cracked his nose back into its original position and wiped the blood running from his left nostril onto the back of his sleeve.

"You're gonna' pay for that ya' little prick", Dean growled as he advanced on an increasingly pissed off Sam, "and I mean big time."

Sam flipped the other end of the lamp into his hand and raised it above his head again, except this time began twirling it around as if it were a baton. Just as Dean was about to lay his hands on Sam, the younger Winchester twisted the lamp swift as a serpent and using the stand-end, rammed into Dean's chest. But the older Winchester was too fast, and in a matter of seconds Dean had laid both hands onto the long shaft of the lamp and wrenched it free from his brother's feeble grasp.

CRACK!

"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhh! Fuck Dean!"

"How do you like it, ya' little bitch, when your nose is shifted out of place and thrown onto the other side of your face?" Questioned Dean heatedly, practically yelling into his littler brother's ear as he paced around him audaciously like a predator who is watching their prey.

Amidst his pain, Sam managed to scrape together some sort of a half smile, half grin and simply replied; "Just A-Ok."

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me- oh wait maybe not, seeing as how that little, no wait- big ego of yours is always yammering away into your ear."

Dean stood with both feet planted firmly on the carpet, holding the lamp rigidly as he listened to Sam ramble on and on about God knows what.

" 'Dean, don't forget to fill up the Impala tomorrow, otherwise we won't get a decent skirt for a week!' " Sam mimicked in an overly high pitched voice. " 'Oh Dean I love your car! How fast does it go? Oh can I touch the gear stick?' Is that what all of those little bitches say whenever they check you out?'."

"You know you're askin' for a decent belting now Sammy", growled Dean, gritting his teeth callously and grasping the stand-lamp firmly, knuckles turning white and crackling under Sam's words.

"Maybe you should turn that beating to that ego of yours, brother, because at least I know that I can admit to having a fear of a children's television show cast of dancing freaks, unlike you."

CRAAAAAAAACK!

Sam corrected his nose without even batting an eyelid, which in turn produced a slight look of dismay on Dean's face. However, it was gone in a few seconds, and both brother's readied themselves for Round 2.

"Come on Sophomore boy, you wanna' piece of me? Well then come get it!" Taunted Dean, tautening his grip on the stand-lamp.

Sam may have been naive and even oblivious to some of the 'sexual jokes' and pranks Dean had pulled on him over the years, but he knew when he saw a trap and he sure as hell wasn't walking into this one.

Dean wanted him to walk right into it, but he wasn't going to give his older brother the satisfaction of having the right to say; 'Hey Sam, remember the time when you walked right into my little trap and I kicked your ass? Dude I can't believe you fell for that!' Sam pushed the thought away irritably and tried concentrating on Dean's weaknesses. What was Dean's one weakness?

Women.

The younger Winchester rolled his eyes over the thought and rolled his eyes again as he remembered Dean abbreviation for the term women; 'ass'.

"Hey look Dean, boobs!" Exclaimed Sam, eyes flickering back and forth between his outstretched arm pointing to the television screen and Dean's face.

"Where?" Questioned the older Winchester, eyes lighting up and darting in the direction Sam was frantically pointing to.

WHAM!

Sam's startling scissor-kick to the chest sent Dean staggering backwards into the wall, where he sat slumped trying to catch his breath and fend off Sam's continuous kicks to the stomach.

"I can't", one kick to Dean's stomach, "believe", another kick, "you fell", a third kick to Dean's kidney elicited a low groan from his lips, "for that man. God you are stupider than you look."

The older Winchester lay curled into a ball on the floor in pain, cradling his sore middle and moaning, but was puzzled over what the hell Sam might've been doing when he heard the scuffle scuffle of his footsteps on the carpet. The sound of curtains being thrown back and a window being opened followed, and then the footsteps were back. Dean could feel his brother's heated gaze roving over him and heard Sam snicker and mutter something inaudible.

The little bastard. Just wait till'-

His thoughts were cut short as he was lifted up and hoisted over Sam's shoulder like a sack of grain.

What the? Where's he-

PLONK!

Dean was flipped over onto his stomach and landed hard on the windowsill.

Ouch. Could you maybe just mince my internal organs next time Sammy?

Soon after that, the younger Winchester wrapped one strong hand around Dean's nape and tightened his grip to the point of emitting a small scream from Dean's lips.

"Now", began Sam, "I have you in a position from which you can't move, and I have the upper hand."

"God Sammy you don't know how wrong that sounds", coughed Dean, trying to wriggle from Sam's hold.

"Shut up!" Hissed Sam, "If you move again, I'll do more than just hit you with this lamp. If you breathe, sneeze or even fart damit", Dean managed a small chuckle but winced inwardly after one of his lower ribs shifted slightly, "I'll kill you. So admit it! 'I'm afraid of Teletubbies!'."

"No!" Rasped Dean, gripping the windowsill with his fingernails.

"Say it Dean!"

"No!"

"Say it!"

"NO!"

"If you don't say it right here, right now, the next place you're gonna' find this lamp'll be somewhere damn unpleasant Dean!"

"Oh God I knew it", bemoaned the older Winchester.

"Knew what Dean?" Questioned Sam growing livider by the minute.

"You are gay", Dean croaked.

"What?" Questioned Sam, frowning immensely. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean shot back. "You have me bent over a windowsill with one hand gripping my neck; I can feel my spine breaking dude! Not to mention you threatening to hit me with a goddamn lamp while, –might I add- you're bent over me which –in some cases if anyone saw us- could be seen as incest you idiot!"

"And?"

"And?" Questioned Dean disbelievingly, "Oh gee I don't know, just the fact that I can feel your gonads up against my ass which is so wrong in more ways than one!"

"DEAN! For you to even think-

"Oh God", moaned Dean, "look!"

Only at Dean's last complaint did Sam heed his words, and when the younger Winchester raised his gaze to where his brother was looking, his eyes widened on their own accord.

Across the road an elderly man walking his dog stood gaping at the pair; Dean hanging over the windowsill and Sam bent over behind him with one hand clutching his neck tightly while in the other hand he held a stand-lamp threateningly above Dean's back.

Both brother's stuttered over which words would 'sound best' in a situation like this, but it was Sam who got the first sentence in.

"Please ignore us! We're really not like this! We just-

"THREE WORDS OLD MAN!" Dean half yelled, half coughed from his 'position', "I'M-NOT-GAY!"

Both the old man's eyes and Sam's widened as one. Even the old man's Corgi turned its head to one side in bewilderment.

"You two should be ashamed of yourselves!"

"I'm not gay!" Squawked Sam, nearly in tears.

"…though I can't reassure you if my little brother is", continued Dean, oblivious of either the old man's or Sam's recent comments, "he just", Dean twisted his head around to look at the expression of dismay on Sam's face, "likes this kinda' thing."

Both the old man and the dog practically ran the length of footpath, wanting to be as far away from the two as they could.

The younger Winchester abruptly turned his head to one side and dry-retched. Dean twisted awkwardly in his position, trying to see what was the matter with his brother and rolled his eyes. What he didn't know was that Sam was forcibly pushing down the surge of bile he could feel shooting up his throat.

When Sam managed to regain his 'former self' all he said was, "You've got some serious problems Dean."

"You think I've got serious problems? Look at yourself! You can't even get a date! And all because of- AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!"

TWACK! TWACK! TWACK!

"All because of what Dean!" Screamed Sam maniacally as he repeatedly slammed the window down onto Dean's back.

"Argh!"

TWACK!

"Aaaah!"

TWACK!

"Sam!"

TWACK!

"Stop!"

Sam momentarily paused and straightened, a wry smile splitting his innocent face in two. After a moment he spoke again, grinning evilly at Dean's back as his voice took on a new freakishly cheery edge.

"Good morning Mr. Winchester, my name's Sam Winchester and I'm going to be your chiropractor for this session. First off, we're going to start with a nice little technique I like to call 'Window-Cracker'. What we do with this window is bring it down swiftly onto your back, and gently kneed the muscles so as to loosen up any tension that may have built up over a certain period of time."

"Sam…"

"If you proceed to experience any slight pain at all, just give me a signal and I'll stop right away. Other than that, please sit back and enjoy the session, or in your case, just hang there and enjoy the session…Deanie."

"Sam…" Dean's voice had surprisingly taken on a slightly quivering edge.

TWACK!

"Stop!"

TWACK!

"Make me!"

TWACK!

"Stop-

TWACK!

"Sam-

TWACK!

"LOOK-

TWACK!

"WHAT?"

CRUNCH!

"AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream which left Sam's O-shaped mouth was instantaneously hollow as he sank to the floor with both hands over his crotch.

"Bastard", breathed Dean as he slowly stood upright and massaged the back of his sore neck.

"Dirty-fighter", winced Sam as he slowly got to his feet.

"Oh no you don't!" Cried Dean as he kicked his little brother harshly to the floor again.

"Dean", moaned Sam as he rolled onto his side.

"Don't start that crap again, you little sh- OW!"

Sam chuckled devilishly as he recoiled the butt-end of the stand-lamp from Dean's kneecap and smiled triumphantly.

"Man you really are stupider than you look, brother."

"Oh yeah?"

In under a nanosecond Dean had snatched the lamp out of Sam's hands and had grabbed hold of the back of his shirt, bodily dragging a kicking and screaming younger Winchester towards the television. Once there, Dean flipped Sam onto his back in one swift motion and sat on top of him so as to stop him from moving full stop.

"It's payback Sammy", whispered the older Winchester as he looped the television cord around Sam's neck and immediately began choking the life of him.

"Urcchh, D-

"Boy does this feel good", taunted Dean, smiling down at Sam who was desperately scratching vainly at the cord around his neck and gagging, "I guess now I won't have to admit anything", Sam choked loudly right after those words, "not that there was anything to admit to start off little brother", Dean continued merrily, "you know I gotta' admit, I always wanted to do this and now I have the perfect excuse!" Squealed the older Winchester, his face lighting up with glee.

"De-

Again Sam choked violently, right arm outstretched across the carpeted floor and scratching wildly.

"See isn't this great Sammy, we're both sitting here- well at least I know that I am- having a decent conversation, now isn't that what dad's always going on about? That we should spend some more time together? Family time Sammy? It just doesn't get any better than this."

"DEAN!" Sam half coughed, half choked. His eyes and whole face was turning completely red, the veins on his neck hideously huge and pulsating.

"Huh? Oh yeah your throat'll hurt like hell throughout this little ordeal Sammy, but I promise, when you start seeing stars or everything starts to go black, then I'll let up", 'reassured' the older Winchester, "but until then", Dean continued cheerily, "you're just gonna have to relax and let me do my job."

"De- ", Sam's shallow gasps of air were becoming more and more scarce, his coughing violent and strained, but Dean didn't seem to notice, "Ca-, I ca-

"You can't breathe? Well duh Sam! That's the whole point of this!" Chuckled Dean, rolling his eyes sarcastically.

"De-, I ca-, I ca- ", the younger Winchester's 'scratching' had gradually slowed, and he was now up to the point of softly stroking the carpet beneath his fingers when Dean swung his head down to his brother's level to take a look at the expression on his face.

"Wow, quite the little actor aren't we Sophomore boy?" Unexpectedly, Dean of all people sighed, "they didn't teach me anything like that when I was at school. Aaah well, at least I have my good looks and charming charms to rely on." An odd chuckle escaped Dean's lips.

"De-, De-, puh…puh…", Sam let out one long wheeze before his head fell limply to the carpet.

"…and Angelina Jolie", Dean whistled, "now she's a good actress! And yes, Sam I actually do take notice of her acting abilities and not just her boobs. I mean, it's not just about her body, it's about-

The older Winchester cut himself off when he realized he couldn't hear his little brother's wheezing and looked down at the cord in his hands wrapped around Sam's neck.

"Oh my God, Sam! Sam!" Shouted Dean loudly, rolling Sam onto his back and ripping the cord off his neck, "Can you hear me? Speak damit Sammy!" Dean shouted as he practically slapped the flesh off his brother's pale cheeks.

CRUNCH!

Dean collapsed to the ground cupping his crotch protectively and squinting his eyes in pain, "Sweet…Lord…above…Sam…", he groaned, trailing off into coherent mumblings of agony.

"That's for before", Sam whispered hoarsely, rubbing his throbbing Adam's Apple and sore neck. The cord had engraved a red raw line around his entire neck which pulsated like a ring of fire every time his fingertips connected with his tender skin.

"You didn't have to go to that extent Sammy", groaned Dean resting on his knees.

"What?" Questioned Sam, opening one eyelid as he continued to rub his neck gently, "you just did before, and it's Sam to you."

"Sammy…"

Without a word Sam launched himself at his kneeling brother and tackled him to the ground, the two rolling and bouncing across the living room floor, arms and legs becoming entangled in the confusion as they began the epic battle again of punching and kicking.

"Get off me!" Yelled Dean, as he attempted to pry Sam's hands off of his own neck.

"Lighten up Dean! Take another BREATHER!" Screamed Sam terrifyingly as he choked the living daylights out of his older brother with his bare hands.

Minutes went by before Dean's face began turning as red as a beetroot and his kicking relented before Sam -grinning satisfactorily- slowly let go off his neck. Not a second sooner than he did this, Dean brought up both legs to his chest and with an almighty kick of his feet into Sam's chest, sent his brother tumbling halfway across the room.

"This is my game Sammy, and you play by my rules", said the older Winchester, stalking towards his next soon-to-be-victim.

"What game is that exactly, Dean?" Questioned Sam sarcastically before he grabbed a hold of Dean's ankle and sunk his teeth down viciously.

The scream which escaped Dean's lips was instantaneous and deafening as he attempted to shake off the lump firmly attached to his left leg identified as his little brother.

"Get…off…arrrggghhh!"

The more Dean whined and screamed, the harder Sam bit down. Dean, seeing as how his brother had resorted to dirty fighting and there was no turning back, sought out a few of his own little techniques. The older Winchester bent down, very much so in pain, and grabbed a fistful of his brother's moppy brown hair. Sam screamed deafeningly as his brother dragged him over towards the bookshelf –limping all the while- situated next to the T.V and repeatedly banged his head against one of the shelves ruthlessly. The cut on Sam's forehead from beforehand gradually grew in size and depth with the younger Winchester's cries of mercy resounding within the small lounge room as Dean finally relented. However, as soon as the older Winchester stepped back Sam lunged for Dean's legs, tackling him to the ground yet again. From thereon in, scratching, biting, punching, kicking and anything that could be used as a projectile or weapon were all on the menu as the two brother's rolled across the living room floor in their epic battle.

"…get off me!"

"…ego of yours you bitch!"

"…bitch yourself Sam…"

"…how do you like it!"

"…my kneecap again and I'll…"

"…expect me to fall for that?"

"Just tr- AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!" Dean shrieked disturbingly.

A more than evil grin reached Sam's lips as he looked down at his brother.

"You bitch, you bit me!"

"Oh so you're callin' me a bitch now Dean?" Questioned Sam angrily.

"You bit my bloody nipple! What kind of freak are you?"

"The only kind there is", growled Sam as he threw another punch at Dean's face.

Minutes passed and turned to hours and still this went on, until finally the late afternoon sun blazed forth through the white lace drapes hanging in the lounge room windows.

With one last feat of strength Dean threw one last punch to Sam's face and collapsed onto the carpet a few feet away from his little brother panting laboriously.

"You know", began Dean trying to catch his breath, "I'm starting to wonder", he exhaled quickly, "whether this was worth it."

"Whether what was worth what Dean?" Questioned Sam, moaning slightly from the deep cut burning on his forehead.

"Whether this was worth kicking your ass", panted Dean, groaning as he rolled onto his back.

"Fuck you", breathed Sam wiping the blood off of his forehead.

"Man I'm exhausted", whispered Dean, fighting the urge to close his heavy eyelids.

Within seconds the two Winchester brothers lay fast asleep on the living room floor in the midst of what looked like a violent hurricane had swept through.

Author/Banshee Queen: "Good? Bad? Please review, I'm in a desperate need for one & I also need to know what you guys think. Did you think the 'Window-Cracker' was too cruel to do to Dean?"(Grins)