Sorry for the delay in posting. Stupid real life.

But now, a little Winchester introspection for ya…

Dean turned over for about the hundredth time.

Though he was thoroughly sick of lying on Sam's living room sofa, this time his discomfort had nothing to do with lumpy couch cushions.

Something was wrong. He could feel it.

For starters, the strange chill he had experienced since he'd been healed was still there, sitting… waiting like some dormant virus. He hadn't been able to explain it to his brother but he could feel it at the pit of his stomach. In some ways it was worse than the unnatural cold he'd felt after the accident, the inability to get warm no matter how many blankets or sweaters he piled on. This…

This scared him.

Slowly, he pushed himself to a sitting position, surprised at the effort it took. He'd slept almost the entire drive back, but he still felt tired, drained. Not like a man who was supposedly healed. Supposedly healthy.

Dean rubbed his neck.

Hell, it was probably just his body recovering. His entire nervous system had been deep fried only a week ago, he should probably expect some side effects. Not to mention what the little jump start from Roy had done.

He was recovering, that was all. End of story.

Massaging his temple, Dean grit his teeth against the building pressure in his head, tried switching his thoughts to something a little more pleasant.

His little brother was getting married.

Dean leaned his head back against the cushions. He smiled as he remembered the embarrassed flush that had crept across Sam's face when he'd told Dean the news. As if he'd been afraid of his brother's reaction, afraid Dean wouldn't accept the life he'd built for himself.

But Dean wasn't their father. He may have stood by the old man when Sam walked out, but Dean had never intended to cut his brother out of his life. Never blamed him for wanting something better.

For wanting normal.

Dean would never blame Sam for that. In reality, some tiny part of him was jealous, some part of him wanted that life for himself. Knew he would never get it.

No, he didn't blame Sam. He was proud of his brother, proud that he got the life he wanted. The life that was stolen from their father, the life Dean would never get to know.

At least one Winchester would get a chance at happiness, and that was good enough for Dean.

Besides, he liked Jessica.

First off, she was hot… so, way to go little brother. But more than that, Dean had been both surprised and grateful by the acceptance and warmth she'd shown him. He didn't have that much experience with relationships, but something told him most women wouldn't be that thrilled with their boyfriend's long lost dying relative breaking into their house in the middle of the night.

Jess had not only accepted him, but welcomed him, took care of both brothers while Dean was sick. Sam needed someone like that in his life. Needed someone to take care of him if Dean couldn't be around.

Dean let the hand fall from his forehead. Felt the chill in his stomach. Waiting. Growing.

Especially since he might not be around much longer.

Upstairs, Sam lay still.

Most kids argued with their parents when they were told to go to bed. As a child, Sam never had that problem. Of the many things he fought about with his Dad, sleep had never been an issue.

For Sam, it was a luxury.

Sharing a room with both his father and older brother, Sam didn't get much 'alone time' growing up. Especially since his mother was murdered by a supernatural killer and his Dad had become a tad paranoid.

Pretty much the only time Sam really had to himself was when he was sleeping…or pretending to be asleep. It was during those few hours that he could think, or dream, or focus on whatever he wanted without being interrupted. Those few hours, that he was free from his Dad's lessons, the constant reminders from his father to get it together, to stop daydreaming and pay attention. To always be on guard for some unseen enemy.

As an added bonus, during those hours, he was free from his brother's constant teasing. Dean was one of the smartest, most responsible people Sam knew, but when he wasn't training or hunting, he also had the attention span of about three minutes. And he liked to fill those three minutes by pestering the hell out of his little brother.

So Sam pretended to be asleep.

When he was older, he learned another use for this trick.

It got him out of some pretty uncomfortable discussions.

Sam heard a noise. Held his breath. Picked up the telltale creak of the second stair, signaling that Jess was returning.

He took a breath, slowed his heart rate, evened out his breathing the way he had taught himself all those years earlier. Waited for Jess to come into the room.

He felt the bed dip slightly, followed by a hand brushing his arm. Felt a soft kiss on the top of his head.

Felt like a complete and utter shit.

After a moment, he heard the soft rustle of sheets and felt the bed shift as she turned over and settled down for the night. Heard her own breathing even out as she relaxed into sleep.

Sam lay still.

Dean's voice echoed in his head.

You made her a part of this, Sam. Part of your life. You really want to keep this from her? Keep who you are a secret? You really want to lie to her?

Fuck.

Sam opened his eyes. He hated lying to Jess, or deceiving her, anyway. Technically, he hadn't actually lied about anything, just sort of…omitted.

A lot.

Fuck.

His brother was right. Jess should know….about him. About them. She was taking his name, she would be a part of their family. She deserved to know.

He wanted her to know.

Sam wanted her to know the man she was marrying, not this two-dimensional Sam he'd crafted. All of him, all the weird, horrifying, warped things that had made him who he was.

The man she loved. A Winchester.

Sam blew out the breath he'd been holding. Felt Jess shift beside him.

Tomorrow then. He'd tell her…

Tomorrow he'd tell her everything.

He expected he should be scared. After all, Jess was an amazing person, but he was going to lay some pretty heavy shit on her. Still, he trusted that she could take it. After seeing her with Dean, seeing her handle this whole situation, it only solidified the love he felt for her. The trust he had in her. He knew she was the one.

He knew he was making the right decision.

Feeling like some unknown weight had been lifted off of him, Sam closed his eyes. Let his mind settle.

And drifted to sleep.

-tbc

Okay, so...

This story may or may not find eventually discover a plot. - busts out metal detector- I swear I'm lookin' for it, but that sucker's buried deep.