"Sammy?" Deans voice rang through the chasm of Sam's thoughts. "You good?"
"What?" Sam asked weakly. "I'm fine."
"You sure? You zoned out on me for a second there."
"Sorry...just thinking." Sam ran a hand through his shaggy hair.
"When I get out of here we are cutting that mop," Dean said, reaching over stiffly and tugging on Sam's brown locks. "Now tell me, how did you get me out?"
"Back door," Sam said. "I got in through the door leading from the back yard to the basement and I carried you out."
"Oh. You should have left me Sammy, you could have died. The world can't loose both of us, not with Amara and C..Lucifer." Deans face fell when he slipped up on Lucifer and Sam took note of it but didn't say anything.
"I told you to leave me there Dean, and you didn't. How could I have left you to die when you were only in that situation because you wouldn't leave me? You carried me out of a burning house once, and it was high time for me to pay you back for that."
Dean sighed heavily. "Thanks."
Sam blinked. He had expected his brother to lecture him or reprimand him more on what he had risked. This, a display of gratitude? This was the last thing he had expected. "Wow," he said. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Shaddup bitch."
"Jerk."
They released Dean three days later along with a large hospital bill and a suit case full of pills. Despite Sam not having to stay anymore, he refused to leave his brothers side. Too close, he had come far to close to loosing his brother again, and he wouldn't let him out of his sight for hours on end, even when Dean told him to get some shut eye or go to a motel and shower. The only time Sam ever even left the hospital when Dean and him had had a shouting match resulting in Sam taking a cab to the side of the woods to get the Impala, which was not broken into or towed as Dean had feared.
"Make sure he takes his pills, Mr. Henshaw," Tracy Mclya, the pretty Asian doctor who had been checking up on Dean, said to Sam as they left. "He's lucky to have such a good brother."
"I'll make sure. Thank you for everything," Sam said, smiling. He wrapped an arm around Deans waist to steady him.
"Thanks Tracy," Dean winked, shooting her a flirtatious smile.
She laughed. "You're cute but I have a girlfriend hon. I'm taken and in three months, I'l be married." She raised a tanned hand to show him a silver band around her finger.
"Oh," Deans eyebrows rose. "Congratulations! Wow, that's great!" He smiled again, his surprised demeanor switching back to flirty. "But if you ever change your mind..."
"She models for Vogue, sweetheart. I'm covered."
Sam sighed. "Congratulations on the engagement Tracy! We have to get going, visiting an old family friend soon." It wasn't a complete lie- Jody had texted Sam earlier and told him to come over- but Sam wanted to get out of the hospital and talk to his brother.
"Sure thing!" she said brightly. "Hope I never see you two around again."
"Back at ' cha," Dean laughed but Sam detected a note of longing and emptiness in his voice but not for the doctor.
Once they got out to Baby, Sam moved to take the drivers seat. "The hell do you think your doing?" Dean asked.
"You have three broken ribs and an arm, no driving." Sam shot his brother a cocky half grin.
"Fine," Dean grumbled, tossing Sam the keys. He slid into the passengers side and slumped back against this chairs, stroking the sides of the car. "Hey baby," he crooned. "Miss me?"
Sam raised his eyebrows. "Don't screw the car Dean."
"Shut it Sam."
They drove without speaking for a while, old songs filling the car with words Dean knew by heart. Both brothers seemed content to remain like that for a while longer until Sam said, "are we going to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?"
"Cas, Lucifer, Amara."
"Sure."
"That's not what I meant." Sam was nervous to approach the subject but he pressed on. "You aren't coping well. You have't been since you found out..."
"Well yeah, Sam, my friend is possessed by the frigging devil himself! Do you expect a guy to act normal after that?" Dean felt heat flood into his face. Sam didn't knew, did he?
Sam totally knew what Deans reaction to what he said next would be. Dean Winchester, King of Denial. "Friend? That's all Dean? Really?" His knuckled were clenched around the wheel so hard his knuckles where white and nerves settled in his stomach.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, stone still, eyes fixed on the curving road.
"You know what I mean," Sam said. "Those looks, the prayers, the way you shift so that your arms touch, when he was human you always grill up the third burger even if he didn't want any, the way your hand twitches when his collar or tie is messed up. Do you honesty mean to tell me it's just friendship?"
Dean was silent.
"Don't deny it Dean. You have that smile, the one you reserve only for him, the way you spend forever in your room, cleaning guns when he's not around, you're quieter. I've seen the looks you give him when you think nobody is looking. Dean, I recognize these movements, the watchfulness." Sam swallowed. "It's the way I used to move around Jess."
Dean let out a soft puff of air. "How long?" he whispered. "How long have you known?"
"Honestly Dean? Since Purgatory." Sam didn't dare glance over at his brother, fearful of Dean punching him. Then he heard the choked sob. "Dean?"
Dean was leaning against the window, his green eyes were full of tears, his freckles stood out against his suddenly pale skin. "That long?" he whispered. "I only figured it out after we found out about Naomi...I..." A tear dripped down his face. "God Sammy, I wish I had figured it out sooner."
"Why didn't you tell him?" Sam stopped the impala and turned to fully face his brother. "You had plenty of opportunities."
"I dunno." Dean wiped his eyes. "I think...dad."
Sam stiffened. "What did he have to do with anything?"
"'S stupid."
"Tell me."
Dean sighed. "He hated gays. Hated them Sam."
"Yeah?" Sam was curious as to where this was going.
"I was sixteen and it was during a hunt. You must have been thirteen at the most. Anyways," he cleared his throat. "It was small, a vengeful spirit was after the son, Noah Sinclair who was only a month older than me, because of something his dad did thirty years ago. Simple salt and burn case, but the kid nearly died and dad had to fix Baby up so...we stayed for a few days. Now the Sinclair's owned a line of hotels- and good ones too- so dad and I got separate rooms for free. The second night there, Noah came down to my room. It was just to thank me but things escalated. Nothing more intimate than a kiss," Dean added, seeing Sam's expression. "But dad walked in."
"Shit," Sam said, wincing. "And...?"
"He took Noah by the arm and threw him out and said, "son, we need to have a talk."
"Son, we need to have a talk." John's voice was angry but that calm, cool anger, the type where Dean would rather him be yelling than use this voice, this disappointment.
"Dad, I...I can explain." Dean watched as Noah disappeared, shooting him one last, desperate look. He was beautiful. That had been Dean's first impression of him.
The boy had silky silver-blonde hair and huge orby blue eyes that were at stark contrast with his almost albino skin and thick, black lashes. He was tall too, tall and built like a willow with strong yet almost fragile limbs. A bit pale for Dean's tastes but still, beautiful.
"Damn right, you can. And you will." John prowled the room, looking anywhere but at his son. "Why Dean? What did I do wrong?"
Dean froze, hearing the venom in his fathers voice. "I'm not gay," he blurted.
"Really? Cause that seemed pretty damn gay to me."
"I'm bi."
"That means?"
Dean swallowed. "Girls and guys. I'm good with either."
"Right..." John nodded slowly. "I've seen you with girls before though. Maybe it was just a phase. 'Bi' doesn't exist, just greedy."
Dean felt his throat close. "I don't think so." He froze as John turned to him. "My first and third crushes were guys. Noah wasn't even the first guy I've kissed. This isn't a phase, but if it is, it's the longest damn one I've ever seen."
John strode over to Dean and grabbed him. "Shirt off. Now."
Dean knew what was coming then but didn't dare disobey orders. He hurried, slipping off his tee and clamping down on his tongue as he heard his father slipping a belt out off the drawer. There was a moments pause before the leather was brought down on Dean's back with such force that his tongue began to bleed from between his clenched teeth. He tried not to scream but he was sure a few yelps escaped him. "Dad no," he croaked. "Please!"
John kept on going until Dean's back looked like a mess of meat. Blood ran down the chiseled muscles and into his hair and on the sheet under him, tears dripped off his straight nose and down his neck. When John came close to him, he flinched and shied away. John plopped down heavily next to him. "It's your fault," he said. "I didn't want to have to but you made me."
"I know," Dean whispered, tears cascading down his face. "I'll try and be good. I'll stay away from any boys."
"I know you will. Don't want this to happen again. Now clean up and take care of those, don't want them to fester." John made to leave but turned. "If I find that boy, or any boy for that matter, kissing you, I will do the same thing to both you and him."
Dean nodded. Even the small gesture made his back ache.
"We left soon after. Never saw Noah again but he wasn't the last guy I was with." Dean sat heavily in his seat, wincing as the movement sent a sharp trill of pain to his ribs. The wince did not go unnoticed by Sam.
"Your ribs good?"
"Yeah."
They lapsed into silence for a while. Then Sam spoke up, "Dean, I'm sorry. If I had known I would have fought him."
"If you had tried he would have done the same to you. You've tried, remember?"
"Right. I was fourteen and dad was yelling at you and I was yelling at him to leave you alone. You pushed me out the door and locked me out. I was furious at first until I saw the bruises." Sam sighed. "You took the fall for me. Again. You didn't always have to protect me."
"I did Sammy. You were still my snot nosed baby brother and I couldn't let him hurt you. I would have run him over if he so much as scratched you." Dean blinked in a vain attempt to keep the tears inside his eyes.
"So you never told Cas...because of dad? Because of that?"
Dean nodded.
"It wasn't the only time dad caught you with a boy though, was it?"
A softly muttered 'no'.
Sam couldn't think of words that would make this okay. "I'm sorry."
"Not your fault."
"I'm sorry that you never told Cas, and I want you to get a chance to say it."
"He doesn't feel that way about me."
Sam slammed a hand down on the wheel. "You have to be joking." He sighed in response to Dean's blank look. "Dude. Dean, he loves you."
I'm hunted, I've rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you.
I've been trying to stay one step ahead of then to. The .to keep them away from you.
I do everything you ask. I always come when you call.
Dean stared at Sam before shifting his gaze to the blue sky overhead. The color matched Cas's eyes. "No," he whispered. "You're just saying that."
"Jesus Dean!" Sam said. "Everything that you do, he does. The glances, the shifting, always waiting for you. He broke through Lucifer's damn mind control and harnessed him to get you off that ship! He broke through Heavens control because, what? You said you needed him. All of these gestures! I know these things! I've done them!"
"How long?" Dean asked. "How long do you think Cas...had feelings for me?"
"Since you were yanked up from Hell, that was my guess. It wasn't love at first but it was emotion, something he wasn't used to. By the time Lucifer was out, he had all but literally fallen for you. Which, by the way, he also did."
"Shit."
"Yeah."
Dean glanced at the clock. "We should get to Jody's soon. It will be another hour or so before we get there, and that's if the traffics good."
Neither Sam nor Dean were strangers to long road trips having traveled for most of their lives, but after that conversation, neither had any interest in staying in the same car. Dean was moody and irritable and Sam was awkward the entire drive there.
