Here ya go, enjoy your nice new, steamy chapter that hopefully won't make you throw things at me when you finish reading it... -runs away and hides-

Disclaimer: Gimme em and I'll be so happy I could fly, but I don't own either of em now... -sniff-

Chapter Summary: Sam talks to Dean to figure out why he's so sad and they have a moment...

Dean sighed and collapsed in the first chair he found as soon as we walked through the door to their hotel room. The ride had been exhausting for him. First, he had to deal with Phoebes annoying chitter chatter. Then he almost got into a fist fight with the brat right behind the wheel. He almost crashed twice, and lastly, as he looked at Sammy, his mind tortured him in the worst way possible, which caused the second almost-crash.

Usually, he was able to make his mind behave when looking at his brother and stored any erotic images he could use of him to the back of his mind for when he could enjoy them in private, but for some reason, his brain plummeted into the gutter in the car, and was quite creative about it too. Wow, usually his fantasies weren't that kinky. There were a lot more positions to have fun in the impala then he ever realized before…

So, because his mind refused to behave, Dean got a little… problem, a problem that required him to drive to the nearest rest-stop to take care of… So needless to say, the drive left him exhausted. Oh yeah, and did he count being chased by a crazy woman and dodging flying objects that morning? So yeah, it was a very tiring day, emotionally too.

That Phoebe got him so angry. It wasn't fair for her to judge him and Sammy. It wasn't fair that she could read Sam's emotions without knowing him. Dean felt horrible about taking Sam out of college. It was greedy and selfish of him, but he needed Sam. He didn't want to be alone. He was barely able to hold on without him when Dad was there and when he left… it was unbearable. Dean rested his elbows in his knees, buried his face in his hands, and sighed.

How could he go on without Sam? He needed him, he needed him so badly. He felt great when he was out hunting with Sam on the road. It was pure freedom. To be able to go wherever he wanted and be able to do whatever he wanted. No life to tear him down and no responsibilities other then doing the hunt and protecting Sam. He needed to hunt with Sammy. He couldn't ever lose it. It would hurt too much.

Dean dropped his arms and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes. He was hanging on by a thread without Dad. It made him grow closer to Sam and need him even more. Sam was everything to him, even before Dad died. He wanted to be there for Sam, he wanted Sam to rely on him, and to see Dean as his everything. Dean needed to matter to Sam desperately. On the road, Dean was all that Sam had the chance to matter to. Dean was his closest friend, his only real friend, and his sole confidant. On the road, there wasn't a choice. It was just them with no distractions.

And now they were stuck in this situation. The Halliwells, oh how they mean well, but threaten Dean's happiness with choices and chances to go elsewhere and find lives. Faced with these people and their new outlook on life, would Sam remember what it was like in college and leave Dean to go and live? Would Sam run off to some college and leave Dean feeling alone and miserable?

Even if they settled down together, Sam wouldn't care as much for Dean. Not when he could make new friends and a new life. Why would he settle for a nothing like Dean when he could have so much more? If he needed a confidant to talk about the magic in his life, he now had the Halliwells. What was Dean good for now? He was useless.

There was nothing now that Dean could protect him from. What could Dean do when Sam could have the Halliwells and run off to college to live? He even had Phoebe! What good was Dean when Sam had a friend that could read his emotions and understand him? An effortless connection like that made Dean even more… worthless. With that in mind, his exhaustion took him over and he closed his eyes, his strength completely drained.

Sam glanced back at Phoebe and wondered what happened to make Dean and her get into such a fuss. He didn't have much time to listen in on their argument. All he knew was when he woke up from the shouting; he realized that Dean was swerving into the wrong lane and all of his attention was focused on getting their attention so that they wouldn't die.

Whatever Dean said had Phoebe all ruffled up and snappy. She was silent with anger the rest of the trip, her thoughts focused on how selfish Dean was or something… Whatever Phoebe said to Dean affected him even more. He was acting as if the whole world had fallen down… Sam didn't want to butt in and read Dean's surface thoughts like a nosy twit, but he was almost considering it. He could always ask Dean what happened later, but he doubted Dean would tell him…

He looked at Phoebe and sighed. "Are you hungry?"

"A bit. Where would we go to eat?"

"I don't know. There's probably a diner around. I wonder what Dean wants."

Phoebe snorted and rolled her eyes. "Who cares what Dean wants? I doubt he wants to get up right now anyway." 'He's a careless bastard anyway.'

Sam raised an eyebrow at her and left the room to look for Dean. He didn't know what crawled up Phoebe's butt and died, but she should know better than to practically insult Dean in front of him. Sam liked Phoebe and all, but she didn't have the right to say that about him. Dean cared a lot. He cared about the people they saved on their jobs. He cared about doing something that mattered, like hunting. He cared about Dad and about being a good son. Sam knew the death hit Dean hard. It hit Sam hard too.

Sam found Dean half-sleeping in the armchair closest to the door. He walked over to him and shook his shoulder lightly. His brother jumped a little, startled, and looked at Sam with big and sorrowful eyes. Whatever Phoebe said hit him hard. Sam almost felt his heart break and decided to talk to him about right then and there. He turned to Phoebe, slightly glaring at her for hurting his brother so much, but not yelling at her because he knew she only did what she thought was best… which it wasn't. He'd talk to her about that if she said something to hurt him this badly again.

"Phoebe… just leave us. Go to the diner across the street. We'll join you in a bit," he said.

"But Sam-" she started.

"Just go," Sam cut off, giving her a look that left no room for argument.

She nodded and left without another word, looking none too happy.

Sam knelt beside Dean and looked him in the eye. 'What happened?' he asked, thinking that talking to him mentally might make him open up more. Sometimes it was easier to say something when you didn't have to say it out loud.

Dean shook his head. 'It's nothing.'

'No it isn't Dean. I know you better than that. I barely ever see you look this upset. What did she say?' Sam asked and reached out to run a hand through Dean's hair soothingly.

Dean closed his eyes and for once just enjoyed the affection without complaining about it being too girly for him. He was too afraid of losing Sam and it felt good to just let go. 'Sam…'

'What's wrong Dean? Something Phoebe said hurt you a lot.'

Dean reached out and pulled Sam into a hug, holding him tightly. 'Sam… just… don't leave me okay?'

'I'd never leave you.' Sam replied and stood up, reaching out and pulling Dean up with him to give him a better hug. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and held Dean close to him. Dean in turn buried his head into Sam's chest and sighed.

'Just, promise you'll never leave. I… need you Sam.'

'Of course Dean.'

'Not even when you realize that you don't need me anymore.'

'I'll always need you Dean. Even if we stop hunting, I'll still need you with me.'

'Not even for Phoebe.'

'Never Dean, not even for her. She's become a close friend of mine, but you're worth more to me than any friendship in the world now.'

Dean tightened his hold on Sam and buried his fists in Sam's shirt. 'You wanted to stay at college when I came to ask you to go looking with me for Dad.'

Sam caressed the back of Dean's head. 'I'm a much different person now then I was then Dean. I need you now… and I know you need me. I will always be here for you now. After hunting with you, you've become such a big part of my life, that not having you in it would be losing a part of me. It's just not the same without you…'

"Sam…" Dean whispered and looked up at him.

Sam looked down at the raw emotions in Dean's eyes and felt his heart fly at finally getting Dean to open up to him. He'd wanted closeness, with words and this contact, for so long. For Dean to just let go and be held without any life-threatening event influencing him to do so, to just hear Dean's true words, thoughts, and feelings. He only noticed the hand move to his hair when its hold on him tightened and Sam closed his eyes, enjoying the touch. He smiled at Dean and lowered his head as Dean pulled it down, pressing their foreheads together.

Dean breathed heavily and moved the hand in his hair to cup one side of his face. Then he lifted his other hand to cup the other side. Dean looked up at Sam, studying his face intently and memorizing the feel of his skin against his fingertips and of their foreheads together. They were so close… so close… only a little closer.

"Dean…" Sam sighed out, enjoying the simple contact

When he opened his eyes he saw Dean staring into them as if to read his soul. Sam moved closer, as if drawn in by the call of a siren, answering the un-voiced and un-thought question in Dean's eyes without even thinking. He lowered the hand that had been caressing Dean's hair to rest against the back of his neck and leaned in slowly, breath shaky and uneven. His nose brushed the side of Dean's and Dean opened his mouth slightly and Sam could feel Dean's hesitant breath ghost across his lips.

"GAWD DAMMIT RACHEY!" shouted a very Southern-sounding accent right outside the door to their room. "FOR THE LAST TIME I'M NOT LEAVIN MY WIFE!" A fist punched their door in anger.

Sam jumped at the sudden noise, causing Deans hands to slip from Sam's face and dropped his arms from around Dean. Dean let his hands slide down Sam's chest, wishing a horrible, bloody, violent death to whoever ruined this chance. His breathing stopped altogether and his hands shook. He closed his eyes and a small sound of pain escaped him. He lightly grasped at the front of Sam's shirt.

"These damn walls are paper-thin," Sam said, laughing a little, and turned down to look fondly at Dean. "We should go; Phoebe is probably waiting for us," he murmured. The diner is right across the street. You do want to go, right?"

"Yeah, sure…" Dean muttered, his eyes still closed.

"Okay…" Sam said and looked at Dean, slightly fearful and excited. Did Dean want to…? He wrapped an arm around Dean's back and tried to lean in again.

Dean felt Sam's arm, but didn't see him start lean in because his eyes were still closed. He walked out of Sam's light embrace and opened his eyes to glance quickly at him. "You go ahead and head out… I'll be right there. I need to get something."

Sam drew in a small breath, a little hurt, but nodded and walked out the door.

Dean turned his back on Sam and let out a shaky breath as he heard the door close behind him. He reached up his hand and wiped away a single tear.

"Damn it, I'm acting like a bimbo in a stupid chick flick," he muttered. "All worked up over nothing…"

But it was more than nothing. That moment was the moment Dean had been waiting for so long that he's lost track of how long. Now it was gone, interrupted by some inconsiderate asshole cheating on his wife.