Oh man, sorry this is so late. This chapter kicked my ass. It ended up so long that I've cut it into two pieces. I'm posting the first half of it tonight and the second half tomorrow. Major angst alert.

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Cell phone plastered against his ear, Dean ran a nervous hand through his short hair. "Yeah, I got it. Man, I'm sorry about this, Bobby."

"Not your fault your dad's bat shit crazy," the older man answered sensibly.

Dean made a noncommittal noise. "Uh, Bobby . . ."

"What?" Bobby grinned to himself. Here it comes.

"I was wondering . . . "

"Spit it out, boy."

"Dad told you about the demon blood," Dean said reluctantly. "Did he tell you, uh, anything else?"

Bobby laughed. "You mean did he tell me you two boys are humping each other like rabbits?"

Dean turned a deep red. "Um - yeah."

"Oh hell, yeah," Bobby chortled. "John was pretty pissed about that. He was madder about that than the demon blood!"

Dean's face turned a deep red. "Damn it!"

The older man decided to let the boy off the hook. "Dean, did you force Sam?"

"No, of course not!"

"Did he force you?"

"No!"

"Okay, then." Bobby poured himself another whiskey. "So long as you don't make me watch, I got no problem with it."

Dean blew out a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he said simply.

"We done now?" Bobby asked. "Cause I don't know about you, but I got work to do."

"Sure, Bobby. Listen - be careful, okay? You're the only family we've got left."

"Don't worry about me," Bobby snorted. "I'll be fine. You tell your brother I said hey - and you two boys watch your asses."

"We will. See ya, Bobby."

Bobby hung up with a snort and a smile. "Idjits."

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Tossing his cell phone onto the table, Dean let out a heart-felt, "Crap!"

"What's up?" Sam called from the bathroom.

"Bobby says someone's watching his place. He says we should stay away for now."

There was a short silence. "Do you think it's Dad?"

"Or someone he sent, yeah." Dean went to the bathroom door and pushed it open.

Still wet from his shower, his brother was standing in front of the mirror, clad only in a towel slung round his hips, studying himself closely. "Dude!" Sam said, a little irritably. "Privacy!"

Dean shrugged. "Next time lock the door.' He walked up behind Sam and dropped a kiss on the back of his neck. "Getting a little vain, aren't you, Princess? What's so interesting?"

"Nothing." Sam turned away from the mirror and started gathering up his discarded clothing from the floor.

The bullshit answer and the fact that Sam was now avoiding his gaze piqued Dean's interest. "You sick?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Sam, come on," Dean scoffed. "Who do you think you're talking to? Dad? I know you. What's going on?'

Sam glanced up, saw the bulldog expression on his brother's face and knew he wasn't going to let it go. "I was just wondering," he said reluctantly, "if it shows."

Dean frowned. "Does what show?"

"The demon blood," Sam answered, flushing.

"What the hell, Sam!" Dean said, confused. "Of course not."

Sam went back to the mirror and studied his eyes with a troubled expression. "I've been looking and I can't see it," he said softly. "It looks like me. I still feel like me."

"Sam . . ."

Sam turned away from the mirror and saw the stricken look on Dean's face. "I'm sorry. It's just - I don't understand; Dad's known about the demon blood for years. What made him decide he has to kill me now?"

"Sam," Dean said helplessly, "There's nothing wrong with you, it was him! Just because some asshole demon fed you a few drops of blood sixteen years ago -"

"Then what made him send those guys?" Sam interrupted. "What made him -" he stopped, biting his lip.

"Sam?"

"Forget it. " Sam moved past Dean into the bedroom, his brother following right behind him. He stuffed his dirty clothing into the laundry bag and pulled on a pair of clean jeans, rooted around for a shirt. "I'll get dressed. We can go out and get some dinner. I'm starving."

"No. Uh uh." Dean took his arm and pulled him around. "Come on, brother. We agreed. No secrets."

"I'm fine." Sam shrugged. "Just thinking about what happened, trying to figure it out."

Guided by instinct and long years of experience in spotting Sam's tells (overly casual stance, eyes that met his way too readily, nervous hand thrusting through tousled hair), he said, eyes narrowing, "You can't figure out crazy, Sam. That's why they call it crazy.

Sam grinned faintly. "Yeah, I guess."

"Come on, brother, quit stalling. Spill your guts."

"You're actually asking for a chick flick moment?"

Dean made an impatient come on gesture with his hand.

"It's just - " Come on, Sam thought, you've been wanting to talk to Dean about this for days, don't chicken out now!

"Listen, Dean, we don't know what the deal with the demon blood was. There had to be a reason why he did it, something he was going to get out of it, right?"

Dean nodded, brow creased. "Yeah, sure. So?"

"Well, what was it? What did the demon blood do to me?" Sam went to the window, pulled the curtain back and stared outside.

"There has to be something; something we haven't seen yet. There has to be something wrong with me." He glanced nervously at his brother and then away, hazel eyes distressed.

"Oh." Hell. "Whatever that bastard has planned for you, it's not gonna happen." He grinned reassuringly. "Not while you got me looking out for you."

"But -" Sam drew in a deep breath. "Dean, it could be bad. Really bad. It might be something so bad that" - just say it - "Dean, you're all I have. If I lose you . . ."

Dean blinked with surprise. "Whoa, Sam, where did that come from?"

"You love me, I know that - but what if I change?" Sam was babbling now. "What if when it happens, you don't want to be with me anymore?"

"What?"

"Dean - Dad changed. What if you, if I -" he stopped at the hurt look on his brother's face. "Dean . . . "

"What!" Dean said angrily. "Because Dad's an asshole, I am too? I haven't proven myself to you? Me leaving Dad wasn't proof that I'm in this, with you, all the way?"

"Dean, please, don't be mad," Sam stammered. "It's not that, it's not you."

Seeing Sam start to tremble, and the shine of tears in his eyes, Dean reined himself in, cursing his temper.

No matter how mature his brother seemed, no matter how skilled a hunter, no matter how smart the little geek was, he was still only sixteen years old. And he'd been through a hell of a lot lately. A hell of a lot.

Putting aside his own hurt feelings, Dean pulled Sam into a hard hug. "You're a moron, you know that?"

"Dean -" God, such a fucking baby. "I'm sorry, just, don't be mad, okay?"

"I'm not mad, not really," Dean said, exasperated. "I just don't get where this is coming from."

Sam didn't answer, just stood huddled against his big brother.

"Is this about - ?" Dean frowned. "Sam, we haven't really talked too much about that night. Maybe we need to."

When Sam looked away, chewing his lower lip nervously, a cold feeling settled into the pit of Dean's stomach.

"Did something happen you haven't told me about?"

Sam's eyes fell. "No."

"Sam, did they - ?" Dean's heart sank. Oh shit, no. "Sam, I swear, whatever it is -"

Sam jerked away. "I said no!"

Dean blew out a breath and stood watching as his brother agitatedly paced the room - dark, damp hair curling around his neck, gooseflesh rising up on his bare chest.

Every part of him wanted to grab Sam and shake the truth out of him. It took everything he had to stay still and let his brother come out with whatever was eating at him in his own time.

After a few minutes, a little calmer, Sam went again to the window and leaned against it, looking outside.

"They didn't touch me that way,' he said, glancing tentatively at Dean. "But they were going to."

Dean waited.

"I couldn't believe it was happening, at first," Sam went on. "The one guy was drunk on his ass, saying shit about my eyes and my lips - it didn't seem real, but - they were gonna take me away, kill me someplace else. They said Dad thought that if I was gone, you'd go back to him."

"Dad was wrong," Dean said tautly.

"I told them that. They didn't care. Jack owed Dad some money; he told them if they - took care of me, the debt was cancelled."

"Then - when Jack came at me - " he looked at Dean with unhappy eyes - "I killed him."

He left the window and fell back into his restless pacing.

"The other guy got hold of you." Dean prompted after a minute.

"Yeah." Sam said, embarrassed. "That was stupid. I was trying to grab my gun. I should've gone for the door. He was - Jack was crazy, but Frank - he was - he was really scary."

Remembering, all the color washed out of Sam's face. "I couldn't get away. He was just too strong. Dean, I tried, I really tried but he had me and I just couldn't get away -"

the knife sinking into Jack's chest,

dead eyes staring

Frank's weight on top of Sam

angry hands around his throat

Frank's dick hard against him

Dad knew . . .

"Sam!" Dean crossed the room quickly and held his shuddering brother. "Take it easy, baby."

Sam leaned into him. "Sorry. Sorry." He drew a shaky breath. "Just - kinda just hit me again." He tried to laugh. "It's so stupid. They were going to kill me. Why does them wanting to rape me make it feel so much worse?"

"Sam - " Dean hesitated. "What aren't you telling me?"

Sam seemed to shrink under his hands.

"You know, kid," Dean said, trying to be light about it, "every time you do that, it makes me think that things are worse than they really are. Just tell me, okay?"

Sam gritted his teeth. He didn't want to tell him, but - Dean had to know what their father was capable of.

"They said it would be fun to fuck a demon," he finally said. "Jack said - he said that Dad knew what they were gonna do."

Dean stiffened. "Dad knew?" he said incredulously.

"Didn't want to tell you." Sam's voice broke and he tried to pull away, but Dean held on tight.

Sam gave in and clung to him, tears starting. "Dean, Dad knew. He didn't just send them to kill me. He knew they were going to rape me!"

Dean had thought his heart had broken when he'd read of his father's decision to kill Sam.

That had been nothing compared to this.

Tightly locking his own grief away, Dean maneuvered his sobbing brother over to the bed where they lay down together. He held Sam close and kissed away his tears, murmured soft reassurances and comforting lies - and thought about patricide.

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Guys, please let me know what you think! Any and all input is appreciated. Like I said, next chapter up tomorrow night. And for that certain someone who asked if the boys would be "getting together again" soon? Check in tomorrow! J