They were back at their motel room and no one was talking. Dean sat at the tiny table, knocking back cheap whiskey like it was water and Sam sat on Dean's bed casting furtive glances at his brother, as subtly as he could.

They'd left Three Woods a little under an hour ago but it still hadn't sunk in yet that they'd survived another one.

"De-"

"Not now, Sam," Dean interrupted. Since they'd hobbled their way to the Impala and made it to the motel, Dean had barely glanced in Sam's direction. His quiet was making Sam feel uneasy, tense.

Getting up, his brother walked into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Before long, Sam heard the shower turn on.

Making a hurt, lost sound, Sam continued to stare at the closed door for a while. It felt so final, like Dean has physically shut him out as well as symbolically.

Only a few days ago they'd been so close, practically living in each other's space. How could a few days create such a chasm between them. He wanted to be near his brother again.

After killing the monster and saving Dean, Detective Arias had gone to the other victim, Henry Mason. The missing college kid. He made sure the boy was okay and turned to Sam and Dean.

"You're not FBI. Are you?" he said resigned, favoring his shoulder.

Sam shook his head.

"What was that – that thing?" the detective asked almost like he couldn't believe it was real.

"A monster," Sam said fiercely. After a moment,"why aren't you freaking out?"

"My family was from Mexico originally. There are a lot of unexplained things there. None I've ever seen but I grew up hearing impossible stories so..." he shrugged. Gesturing to Dean, "How is he?"

"We'll be okay. We've faced worse." Dean was leaning forward on his own power at this point but Sam wanted nothing more than to let Dean know that he could depend on him.

Shrugging again, the detective looked around at the pile of ash, the dead woman who he was betting was Isabella and the man with the bullet in his skull. "How the hell am I gonna explain all this?"

"Nurse Brady here kidnapped Isabella and Henry, you found evidence that the victims all went to the same hospital shortly before disappearing. When you questioned him he seemed suspicious so you followed him here and you saw this. You killed him and saved Henry. You suspect that he also killed more victims but you don't know where he stashed the bodies."

"Wait you think there are more victims?"

Dean hadn't said anything this whole time and Sam was getting worried that something was wrong with him. He was clearly awake from his whizzing breath but he was silent.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. He reached for Dean to help him to his feet only to pause briefly when Dean flinched slightly away from his touch. Shaking it off, he placed Dean's arm over his shoulder and hefted him up, supporting his brother's full weight.

"I don't mean to run but you got this right?"

"Yea," the detective said. He was already pulling out his phone to make the call.

"Uh... what are you going to say about us?"

"Never saw you," he answered. "I have a feeling I don't want to look too deep into who you really are," before he turned his attention to the phone. "Detective Arias, Badge number 2845..."

Sam came back to himself when the door opened and Dean stepped out in a towel. He had a few purple bruises on his chest but otherwise he looked fine.

Getting up, Sam walked into the steamy washroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The bathroom smelled so strongly of Dean that he felt closer to him there than with the actual flesh and blood man who was blocking him out right now. He came to himself when he heard the front door open and close.

Dean probably ran out of whiskey and went to search for more.

Something had happened to Dean in those three days and he was falling back on bad habits. Whatever it was, they would have to talk about it but for now Dean needed time to process. That much he understood.

He removed his soiled and burnt clothes and let the lukewarm water wash away three days worth of fear and worry.

He sat at the desk waiting for Dean to come back for over two hours. It was almost 9pm and he was worried about his brother's mental state. Truthfully, he would have felt better at having Dean in his line of sight constantly, but he knew that if he tried that, Dean would just react badly. The problem was that he'd just been held hostage only a few hours ago. He'd disappeared for three days when Sam wasn't looking. Who's to say it couldn't happen again?

Making a decision, he grabbed his jacket and went looking for Dean. His best guess was that he was at the bar a few blocks away.

Walking into the dive, he spotted Dean right away. He had a gorgeous, busty brunette draped over him. She was laughing at everything Dean was saying. He could tell that his brother already had a few more drinks by the dopey grin on his face.

He sighed and walked over to him.

"Dean," he said, tapping his brother on the shoulder.

"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed. "Come join us, brother."

The woman smiled but Sam could see that it didn't quite reach her eyes. Clearly she wanted Dean to herself.

"No. I think you've had enough." He made to grab him but Dean knocked his hand away.

"Why you have to be such a buzz kill. Relax. Sit. Have a drink," Dean motioned to the bartender.

"I don't want a drink and you shouldn't be drinking right now. You almost died tonight," he hissed quietly.

"All the more reason to celebrate."

"Dean," he pleaded.

"He doesn't want to go with you," the woman said. "Leave him alone."

Ignoring her, he said again, "Dean. Come on. Let's go."

Taking the new drink he got and downing it, Dean gave him a dismissive look.

"Fine," Sam decided, turning to leave. Why was Dean acting like such a child. Why did he have to always be the responsible one. Dean almost died tonight. He should be resting, recuperating. Instead he was in this seedy place letting that strange woman wrap herself around him. Well he was done. Dean could do whatever he damned well wanted.

"Where you going Sammy?"

"Anywhere but here," he shot angrily over his shoulder.

Storming out of the bar felt good and cathartic but as soon as he got outside, he regretted saying the words.

He didn't mean it. Dean could be an idiot sometimes but Sam always wanted to be near him. Sighing in resignation as all the anger drained out of him, he went back to the room. Dean would come back when he was ready. Besides, he could tell that Dean wasn't actually drunk. After so many years of hard drinking, it took a lot of alcohol before his brother reached well and truly sloshed. He was just trying to lose himself temporarily. Get outside his own head as it were.

Opening the tiny door, he dropped the keys on the table. He couldn't blame him. He'd almost died.

Dean had almost died tonight.

The reality of that thought knocked him off his feet. Sinking onto the bed, he started to shake. If not for that phone call from Tim Mason or Detective Manuel's help, Dean would be dead right now.

He felt bile rise up in his throat and barely made it to the bathroom in time. Heaving over the bowl several times, he moaned in pain as his body shook and his stomach emptied its contents. When he was sure he was done, he flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth. With barely any strength, he pulled down the cover and just sat there. Lost in thought and waiting for his body to recover.

He didn't know how long he was in the bathroom for, before he heard the front door open. Dean was back.

He would apologize for his earlier words and ask his brother to talk to him. Everything would be alright again.

Before he even got up off the bowl, he heard a low murmured,"He's not here. Come on in sweetheart. I can't wait to get you out of that dress." This was followed by feminine laughter and the unmistakable sound of passionate kissing.

Sam froze as he heard the front door slam closed.

"I wanted this as soon as I saw you walk into the bar," the woman moaned breathily.

The headboard slammed into the wall and the bed springs squeaked abruptly. The woman giggled. It sounded like Dean had thrown her onto the bed.

The mattress groaned under what must have been Dean's added weight.

'Oh shit,' Sam thought. That was not about to happen while he was in the bathroom. He didn't know what to do. Should he go outside now? Hide in the bathroom? Wait it out?

His body was frozen in mid-motion.

The bed strings protested again. It sounded like he was right there in the room with them.

"Ohhhh," the woman moaned at whatever Dean had done and suddenly Sam wasn't frozen anymore but he definitely couldn't go out there now. He felt like a deer caught in headlights, unable to make a decision. If he tried to leave now it would just be awkward for everyone and he really didn't want to leave the bathroom, but if he stayed he'd get to know Dean a little better than he was prepared to.

He heard a slight dropping noise. It sounded like clothing hitting the floor as the woman continued to moan softly. They were moving fast, making the decision for him. He was definitely not going anywhere now.

Dean made this dark chuckle, so similar to his regular one but filled with promise. Covering his ears childishly, Sam, as quietly as he could, crept to the furthest corner of the room. His huge frame tucked into the corner, panicking.

"Open up for me sweetheart," Dean whispered softly with promise.

Even with his covered ears, Sam could clearly hear Dean. In fact, it felt like his brother's words were being whispered into his own ears. Pinching his eyes closed as well, he tried to fully block out all sensory input. Maybe if he held his breath long enough, he could pass out and he wouldn't have to endure this, he thought.

The woman started keening, almost like she was in pain or whatever Dean was doing to her was too much. The sound was filled with tortured pleasure, increasing in volume until she was outright begging him.

"Please, faster," she moaned.

"Look at you. Coming apart on my fingers alone."

"Please, please" she kept repeating.

"What do you want sweetheart? Tell me," he murmured sensually.

"Please," she sobbed again.

"Tell me exactly what you want," he demanded.

Sam wasn't sure what Dean was doing but it was driving his partner crazy.

"I want to come," she whispered softly, brokenly.

"Good girl," Dean praised in his deep rumbling voice. It sounded like he was kissing her again.

The woman sighed appreciatively, almost thankfully, only to let out a sound of frustration. "Don't stop. Please."

Sam always knew that Dean had some kinks. There were so many things he'd let slip in conversations over the years, hints at a part of him that made him less than vanilla in the bed room. He was getting proof of a commanding streak, a dominating lover. Another kink to add to the growing list. Dean liked to be in charge in bed.

There was a sound that he couldn't decipher. Sam hadn't realized until he was straining forward to catch it that he'd stopped covering his ears and was actively listening. It was like porn, he tried to justify to himself as the first waves of arousal worked their way through him.

"-but," Dean was saying, "you're not going to come one second before I'm buried as deep inside you as I can go."

Sam felt a shiver race up his spine at the visceral image those words conjured.

"I'm going to bring you up so high, by the time I let you come, you'll feel like you can fly. Now be a good girl and get me wet with that gorgeous mouth of yours."

Sam could hear scurrying and a sharp noise. She must be eager, he thought. All he could hear for a while was messy slurping.

"How far down can you take me." He asked before letting out a deep appreciative groan. "Good, go slower and you'll take more."

Sam could feel his mouth salivate as he imagined the girl on her knees slowly swallowing his brother's cock.

"Fuck! That's perfect. Just like that." Dean groaned. "I could stay in your mouth all day," the girl moaned around her mouthful at that like she would love to stay on her knees for him.

"Come up here," he said. All Sam could hear was movement before the bed squeaked again and more movement. His hands were shaking in his determination not to touch himself. Maybe, it was not having the visuals to go with the obscenity. Maybe, because it was his brother in there and it was so wrong, but he'd never been so aroused in his life. He could feel himself throbbing in his pants.

The girl was starting to moan again. It was this trembling keening sound like she was falling apart.

"Here, Dean said. "Put your legs over my shoulders, It'll be easier," before Sam could hear soft slurping sounds.

"Oh fuck he's going down on her,' he thought. He spread his legs out on the tile floor to help loosen things and free up some room.

"Pleeasee," she cried desperately. "Don't stop. Please. So close."

It sounded like she was writhing on the sheets as she begged him. The bed creaked again and the girl started to fall apart.

"Yes!" she hissed the word on a long drawn out breath, before the familiar and unmistakable rhythmic moving caused the headboard to hit the wall repeatedly. "Yes! Yes! Oh God!" she cried before Dean kissed her through what sounded like a massive orgasm. The bed kept moving and the woman started moaning again.

"Yes! Please! So good!"

Sam sat there through three of her orgasms before he heard Dean let out this deeply pleasured, drawn out groan, so filled with ecstasy and satisfaction that it sent goosebumps racing from his scalp to his toes as they curled on the cold floor of a no tell motel.

Well fuck, he thought. He now knew what Dean sounded like when he came.

Not long after that, the girl got up and started to leave. She tried to give him her number but Dean smoothly talked her out of it and with a final snap, the door closed behind her.

Sam had a bit of a dilemma. How was he gonna get out of the bathroom? If he left now, Dean would know he'd been in there. Maybe he could just stay there until Dean went to bed, then sneak out. Or he could just stay there for the rest of his life. Seemed reasonable. He literally didn't think he had the courage to exit the bathroom. Give him a monster any day of the week and he'd face it, but ask him to walk into the room where Dean had just had sex and he was a goddamned coward.

Why didn't he leave when he'd heard first heard them. Sure it would have been difficult but it would have been better than this. Now there was no way he was going to get out of this without years of teasing. Not to mention the fact that he definitely didn't think he'd ever be able to look his brother in the eye again without hearing snippets of the porno he just experienced.

So like a coward, Sam just sat there in the bathroom.

It seemed that Dean was going to make the decision for him. His footsteps were coming toward the door. Probably to wash the girl off him. Shit! he hadn't thought of that. Sam quickly stood, as the door opened.

The two of them froze in this horrible tableau, him in panic and Dean in dawning realization. Getting his wits about him, finally, Sam muscled his way past his brother and quickly left the motel room. The door slamming behind him.

Coward.

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