MADE UP AN EXTRA LONG CHAPTER FOR YA'LL :)

I honestly hope ya'll enjoy it ^^

WARNINGS: UNRELATED!WINCEST, mentions/implies of abuse/rape/physically/mentally, THIS IS A LOVE!STORY between two men.

there will be KISSING & SEX in later chapters (high likely)

Of Werewolves And Humans

Chapter 7 ~ It Hurts

THEN:

Then he drew his attention back at the tub, frowning at the steaming water in it. He bowed forward to tip his finger into the water and check the temperature when everything around him started to spin and darkness caught him in the very next moment.

He felt as he hit his head on something hard and a low thump as he heard himself hitting the cold tiles.

And then all his senses failed …

NOW:

Dean bolted up from the couch, the remote control falling from his hands and hit the wooden floor, shattering at the unlucky impact. He had thought it'd be better to let Sam doing that kind of stuff on his own. But obviously he had been wrong. He knew that as soon as he heard the muffled thump from inside the bathroom.

Dean threw the door open, his gaze falling on the unconscious human on the floor. A big goose egg was already forming over his right eyebrow and a small cut that bled like crazy right below it. Dean hurried to his side and kneeled down, listening to his heartbeat, his breathing.

The younger Winchester hissed as he brushed the dark bangs out of Sam's face. „Damn it." He cursed and shook his head. He should've known. Next time he wouldn't leave him on his own – private space or not, he didn't care.

Sam's eyes fluttered open again moments later, groaning in discomfort. The fact that he was supposed to take a bath flashed thru his mind. He remembered that he had half an hour for it. Remembered that the man had to be back soon, since he didn't know how long he had been out.

He sat up with a start, the world started to spin again and he felt the bump on his forehead as he touched his head with a hiss. That was when he realized that the man was already there. Was kneeling beside him. Was looking at him. ... He was too late.

He sucked in a deep breath, that tore on his aboused ribs and his back.

The next thing he realized was, that he was naked. NAKED.

Panic rose in him. He was too late. He had lost conciousness and had missed the damn bath. Hadn't been done in time with what he should've been doing. Sam wrapped his fingers around his head, shielding his face from the blows that might come. But they didn't. Instead he felt gentle hands on his, guiding them down slowly.

Big concerned emerald-green eyes looked at him, eying the small gash short above his eyebrow. There was no hate, no anger, no rage in those eyes. Just concern and sorrow and compassion.

But what would he feel sorry for? It was Sam, who had toppled over. Him who was too late. Who hadn't done what he was supposed to do in the him offered amount of time.

„You still wanna take a bath?", Dean asked trying not to show his concern and shock about how Sam was acting. So frightened. So terrified.

Sam nodded. Sure he wanted to – he had to. He smelled awful and who knew when he was allowed to get a bath again?

„Okay. - But I'll help you this time. I'll stay here with you until you're done." Dean frowned, holding onto the other male's gaze.

Sam nodded again. It wasn't like he trusted him. The hell he did. He just KNEW that he hadn't a say in whatever the man wanted. And if he wanted to take a bath than he had to play along the man's rules.

Dean helped Sam to his feet and into the bathtub, helped him to hold his balance until he was settled in the lukewarm water. Dean then grabbed a towel and made a roll out of it, putting it between Sam's neck and the bathtub, so it was more comfortable.

„Just relax." Dean whispered and reached for the sponge John had brought along with all the clothes. What hadn't been a bad idea at all, as it dawned to him now. „I'll take care of you."

Before he started, he cleaned Sam's newest wound with a washcloth – ever so gently. It wouldn't need stitches at all.

Sam eyed him warily, his breath hitched as the man rolled up his sleeves and dipped the sponge into the water. I'll take care of you … how many times had he heard that words already? - And never in a good way. EVER.

He sniffed and followed every move of the man made, ready to draw back into his mind at any given moment. His mind told him to run - tpo get out of the freaking tub and run. But he knew he wouldn't get far. Probably he wouldn't even be able to leave the tub on his own.

But his instincts told him something different. Told him to rely on the man. Try to trust him, letting him taking care of him. His instincts told him not to be afraid, not to be scared.

Dean brushed with the sponge over Sam's face, squeezing it out over his head to wet his hair. He followed the curve of Sam's neck and shoulder, feeling the young man tense. Sam held the edge of the tub in a death grip. His knuckles turning white.

„Is the water warm enough?", Dean asked, trying to distract him a little.

„Yes Sir.", Sam answered, his look directed at every very move the man did with the sponge.

„Is it too hot?" Dean glanced up at him.

Sam shook his head. „No, sir."

Dean frowned and stilled. „Would you even tell me if it was?", he then asked, slowly but surely getting a feeling for how Sam ticked.

That was a trick question – definitely. So he just did as he wasn't understanding the man's question properly and tilted his head to the side and looked away. He was torn between telling the truth and pleasing the man.

„I would, sir.", he then answered, the lie written all over his face.

Besides Dean was able to literally smell it. Hear it in the way he had given the answer. He sighed and continued with the task at hand. He couldn't blame him. Not even a bit. What he must've been thru … he could just imagine how the human had to feel.

When he was done, Dean dropped the sponge into the water and settled down on the edge of it, looking everywhere but Sam's body. He let one of his fingers hang into the water, so he would feel when it would be getting too cold, since he figured Sam wouldn't tell him and rather freeze his ass off than mentioning it.

When the water started to feel chilly against the wolf's skin he stood up and snatched two of the big towels from the retainer.

„I think it's time to get you out.", Dean said, trying to look Sam in the face and nowhere else as he unfolded the towel.

Sam did what he'd been told – of course - and got out of the cool water. Standing there bare-ass-naked and dripping wet, waiting. He held his hands crossed in front of his private parts, to at least hide a little of his body from the man's few.

Dean sighed and threw the towel over the taller man's shoulders, handing him the other one. „There you go. - Dry off."

Sam nodded, muttering a tired „Yes, sir" and started to dry himself off without bowing down too much.

As the dizziness came back, he dared to topple over once more, but this time, Dean was there, stopping his fall.

„Wow … - Hey there, tiger." Dean frowned and led him back to the toilet, grabbing the towel from his bony fingers. „You gotta tell me when you can't do something.", he sounded angrier than he wanted to and pushed him down on the bowl.

The man flinched at the harsh spoken words. Tears welling up in his eyes – Sam couldn't control it, couldn't stop them. He didn't want to cry, didn't want to look pathetic. But he did, and it was a shame. For him, for his family, for everyone who had ever owned him and would own him in the future. (If he'd live that long)

„Hey … i didn't want to … I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean frowned, shook his head and squat down before him, running his fingers thru Sam's wet hair, brushing it out of his face. „It's just – I'm scared you're gonna hurt yourself." He sighed and lowered his gaze for a moment. „I just don't want you to get hurt, okay?"

Sam nodded. - He knew why. Because they could possibly kill him and that would mean a whole less fun than this was probably supposed to get.

„So, when you're dizzy, or in pain. Let me know. - I'd like to know things like that. It's important to me. Isn't it to you?" Big green eyes locked their gaze with hazel-green ones once again.

Sam nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't know how to answer. No one had ever asked him seriously what he thought. What he wanted to do, or what he doesn't wanted. At least not since his mother had died.

„Do you understand me?", he asked, keeping his voice low and soft.

Sam nodded again. „Yes, sir.", he said silently.

„Fine. - So … are you hurting?", Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

Dean sighed – kind of relieved. Maybe they were making progress. „Where are you hurtin'?"

Sam dropped his gaze to the floor. What was he supposed to say? Was it even worth of mentioning it? Maybe it would've been better if he'd said he was fine, like he was supposed to do.

„What hurts?", Dean asked again. - He wouldn't back off, not that easy. Not yet. Not ever.

„Everywhere, sir.", he muttered in respond.

„Okay. - We're gettin' you dressed and then you go back to bed. - Try to rest and sleep." Dean watched him closely, saw the shame creeping up Sam's face. „Do the painkillers work? Is it any better?"

Sam nodded. „It does feel better, Sir."

Dean nodded – again more relieved than before. „Fine."

He grabbed the fresh clothes from the retainer and the bandages. Then he covered his wounds with the dressings and helped Sam getting dressed. Then he led him out of the bathroom, this time he let him walk. Still it was more like carrying him, since Dean took most of the taller man's weight.

„Good morning, boys." John yawned, strolling past them towards the kitchen, without looking up. He was limping again, what meant his leg was making problems. Dean frowned at his father, but didn't say anything. He'd have time for that later. Now he had to get the human back into bed.

„You're doin' good, Sam." Dean smiled at him as they reached the bedroom.

It haven't gotten a lot warmer in there. They might need a heater for it, if the weather would get worse. Besides: They had to get some supplies in case the weather would truly get worse and they would get snowed in like last year. But this time they had a human with them. - Humans wasn't used to raw flesh, clingy cold (for more than a couple of hours) and no electricity and water. - Maybe they needed to go to Bobby's, since they wouldn't even have water from the pipe then.

He threw the comforter and blankets back, letting the young man sit down on the edge of the bed. Then he let him crawl in and settled behind him.

Sam shivered and sniffed. Yeah it was cold in the room and it'd last at least until noon til the warmth would creep in there. Dean threw the comforter over the both of them, pulling it high up until just their heads lurked out.

„I'll stay until you're warmed up again. - I've to get to the salvage after lunch, help Bobby with some things." He cleared his throat. „But I'll be back tonight." He didn't know what difference it made to tell Sam. - He just did. Maybe if he'd explain things to him, he'd feel more comfortable. Maybe Sam just pretended not to hear him - as Ellen had said. Maybe he was listening though. „Dad's gonna stay with you in the cabin. - He's gonna look out for you. So if you need something … just holler and he'll be there."

Dean felt Sam's cold toes brushing against his legs as he curled up. Snuggling into the pillow and inching closer to the warming body behind him.

A comfortable noise fell from Sam's lips and his body relaxed fully as he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

When Dean was sure that the human was out for the count, he left him, leaving the door into the room open. He went to his father into the kitchen and sat down with a sigh, rubbing over his head.

John poured himself some coffee into a mug and went to the table to sit opposite of his son. He stared at him for a long time.

„You know ...", John started, obviously uncomfortable, „... just because he's your mate doesn't mean that he has to stay with you. - Everyone would understand if you wouldn't want to."He cleared his throat. „It's not like you knew him before. - You're not shunting him out of the way."

Dean glared at him. „Why would I do that?", his voice remained impassive.

John shrugged. „I just thought. - The way you were talking yesterday ..." He looked up from his mug to face his son. „Ellen would know someone who'd take care of him. You could visit him if you'd like to. - He'd get the care he needs there."

Dean added a cocked eyebrow to his glare and shook his head – huffing. „No way.", he muttered. „There's a reason WHY he's my responsibility. WHY we found him there. WHY I chose him and not another one." he cleared his throat. „I'm not sayin' that I believe in destiny. But at some point I think that everything has its reasons."

John just nodded. Something like pride rising in his eyes.

„You're going to help Bobby out today?" Yeah, change of topic. Very Winchester-like.

Dean nodded. „I have to .. you know …" He glanced over his shoulder towards his bedroom. „You think you can handle him for a couple of hours? On your own?" Dean frowned. „You know – just getting him something to eat and drink. No biggies. Figured I'll be back home earlier if I'd drive before lunch-time." Dean bit his lower lip – thinking.

„You sure it's a good idea to leave now?" John said concerned. „I'm sure Bobby'd understand."

The younger Winchester rubbed over his mouth – still thinking. He knew that.

„I know." He sighed pensively. „But i can't leave him hangin'. - He's behind with the repairs already."

John nodded understanding. „You know he won't trust me."

„He doesn't trust me either." Dean looked up at his father's dark eyes, well noticing that he wasn't quite himself today.

„But he knows you." The older man gave back.

„That's true." Well, Dean couldn't say anything against it.

Silence.

A small smile tugged on John's lips. „I could do your job. - Until Sam's better?"

„With your bad leg?", Dean asked, his eyebrows cocked.

John just sighed and dropped his gaze.

„Thought so." His son leaned back in the chair. „I know it's a lot to ask for at the moment."

His dad chuckled. „Nah – I got that. - How hard can it possibly be to take care of a human anyway?. - He won't do much else as eating and sleeping probably."

Dean snorted. „He's not a baby."

It should work out more difficult as John Winchester had figured.

A police car drove down the yard of Robert Singer's Salvage and parked in front of the garage, where Ash and Dean were working on an old Buick. Both were bowed over the open hood, hands dirty from oil and dust.

Dean looked up long before Sheriff Mills' vehicle pulled up in front of them, his senses strained. Something in him tensed, but he relaxed again as he spotted that it was the sheriff and not one of her deputies, since he hardly trusted them. Jody Mills on the other hand was one hell of a woman. Sure older than him and kind of a motherly type too. Even towards him. Even when he wasn't even human. She looked at him as he was just a human Dean Winchester and not the dangerous animal that slumbered within him.

The engine of the ford died and the door opened slowly. Sheriff Mills tipped her police-cap up and walked over to the both men under the hood. Her facial expression not as relaxed and friendly as usual. Sheriff Mills was hiding something – he saw it in her eyes and the way she curled her lips up into a fake-smile.

Dean Winchester figured he would play along whatever might come. So he left the hugging aside and straightened up as she arrived beside them.

„Good morning, Ash. - Dean." Her eyes wore something pleading, hidden behind bright brown circles.

„Good morning, Sheriff.", Ash greeted her and looked up for a moment before he continued to screw around on the engine.

Dean just nodded his welcome. Their looks locked.

„My car's making funny noises.", she said then, shifting her weight on the other leg. „Some kind of rattling when I push the gas pedal." Her look was challenging and a flicker of anticipation crossed her face. „Would you take a look at it?"

Dean nodded. „Drive it in the garage?"

She nodded back.

„I'll be there in ten.", he said then, rubbing his hands into a filthy rag. „I'll go and get the boss."

Twelve minutes and thirty-three seconds later … Bobby and Dean went into the garage. Sheriff Mills was already waiting for them, leaning against the side of the ford. She looked up as the both came thru the metal door.

„I feel spied on.", she said, pushing away from the car, her hands burying in the pockets of her olive-green jacket. „Someone's watching me … I'm sure."

Both men frowned at her. „You sure?", Bobby asked frowning.

„Sure I'm sure." The Sheriff grimaced. „Ever since we went into the damn club."

Dean nodded to himself. „As far as I can tell, we're not … spied on." He bit his lower lip – thinking. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to leave his father and the human alone in the cabin. On the other hand: His father was a werewolf. He would know how to defend the both of them when it came to it. „You found out something? - About the owner?"

She shook her head with a sigh. „No. - I didn't. Actually … no one of the men – the human ones – were talking. And this morning?" She frowned, her lips pressed into a thin line. „This morning they were all dead. - They should've been transported into the county prison after their questionings ..."

The men looked at each other and then at the sheriff. „Weird." Dean rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose pensively. „How did they die?"

She huffed and shook her head. „We don't know. - Looks like they dropped dead. The coroner got them and they're at our morgue right now. - We've requested an authopsy on the corpses."

„Balls." Bobby cursed silently. „You think there's more about it than just a couple of sick men? - I mean … what else could be behind it?"

She shrugged. „I don't know. - I guess it's going to last another couple of days until I'll pass by in the cabin to question the survivor. - How's he doing?"

Dean sniffed. „As good as the circumstances are … He's still hurting and his mental state … well … You gotta have a look at him, make your own picture."

She nodded. „Then I'll pass by on friday to get my car checked up again." She smiled. „Great mechanics. - There's nothing rattling anymore." She cocked an eyebrow, grinning slyly.

Both men gave her a nod.

Dean pulled the Impala up in front of the cabin. Night had already settled over the words. The cabin seemed silent. No lights were on. Werewolves wouldn't need them anyway. - But humans did.

Second: Dean didn't sense any movements in the house, though as he sniffed in the cool air, he didn't smell any uncommon scents.

The youngest of the pack got out of the Impala, eying the house before him closely. His movement changed th closer he got to the porch and the door. The expression on his face morphed into something that could just be called predator-like.

He shouldn't have left Sam. Shouldn't have let him with someone Sam didn't even had the chance to have a talk with. Except from the room in the club. And all over this he had spent longer at the salvage as he should have. Guilt settled in his chest and crawled up its way into his throat, where it built a heavy lump. A lump so big he could barely breathe.

Dean entered the house silently. It was warm there, there were fresh logs in the fireplace and the door to his bedroom stood wide open. He closed the door behind him gingerly and tiptoed towards his room.

Then he stopped as he reached the threshold, lurking at the bed. There was a giant something on the bed, and Dean heard two heartbeats. Smelled John and Sam. - Other than that he sensed nothing. And some of the tension fell away, his features softened.

Something moved on the bed and he heard a silent comfortable sound coming from there. So he straightened up and moved forward carefully, not to step on one of the loosen floorboards. On the end of the bed he stopped, eying the both male beings and frowned.

Whatever reason his father have had to change … it obviously seemed to be completely okay with Sam. - And guilt got exchanged with envy, as he saw that the wolf was laying with his back to the human. Though the human had snuggled into the long fur, one hand thrown over the wolf's ribcage.

A low rumble erupted from Dean's throat. He was HIS.

The wolf stirred and a pair of dark green-brown eyes got visible, looking towards the door. The wolf lifted his head further, eying his son for a moment before he slipped from the bed and strolled past Dean and out of the room without even looking at him.

He followed the wolf, who had regained his human figure as soon as they entered the kitchen. John's body covered by a towel from the waist downwards.

„What the hell?", Dean tried to keep his flaring rage under control. - Because that's what it was. Sam was HIS. HIS mate, HIS responsibility, HIS nutcase, HIS everything. What also included that he was HIS and HIS alone. No one else beside him was meant to be allowed to be that close to him.

„Don't 'what the hell' me, son.", his father growled back. „You gave him into my hands as soon as you left the cabin." John ran his fingers thru his salt and pepper hair. „He didn't eat, but he drunk. AND he had some sort of nightmare. - He freaked out. I freaked out. We both freaked out. So since i figured I wouldn't do him any good in my human form I changed. He sure as hell likes dogs a lot more than humans. At least he's not afraid of them."

Dean huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew his father was right and he trusted him. Trusted him more than anyone else beside Bobby and Ellen .

„I did some research on him." John yawned. „And dinner is in the fridge. - Made steak with potatoe-wedges."

A grin tugged on the edges of Dean's lips. „Steak?"

John grinned back and pulled the open laptop over, placing it in front of his son. „You read. - I'll get your food ready. You look like you could use some meat."

Dean nodded gratefully and eyed the screen. Old police records from Lawrence, Kansas. He stared at the screen confused, then looked up. „That's where we used to live when I was a kid."

„Yeah." John took a plate with a giant bloody steak out of the fridge. „Go on reading. - Might as well there'll ring a bell."

Dean frowned and tore his look back at the screen, starting to read. The further he went thru the records and the articles of the newspapers from before thirteen years, the harder the lines on his face got, the more concentrated his look became.

John laid the steak into the hot pan, heating up the wedges and vegetables in the microwave.

„Wait – you think Sam's the chubby thirteen year old that disappeared all these years ago?" Dean stared at his father in disbelieve and saw him nod.

„Read on.", John said, his voice chilly to the bone with a bitterness around its edges.

Dean did. His face paled the further he got. From another article back at a police report. „But we knew his dad. - He bought the old mustang from the garage you used to work at … He was a nice guy."

„He was a drunk." John put the steak on the plate with the heated up fixings. „William started to drink after Mary died. - He changed – a lot. Samuel must've been nine or ten at that time." John's voice remained sober.

„But … I knew Samuel. - We spent some time together after school." Dean frowned, his gaze glued to the screen. Was it possible? After all these years? He remembered the chubby kid. He must've been about seventeen or eighteen. The other kids at school used to pester him, so he had started to pick him up from their house to back him up on his way there and then again when Samuel got out of school for his way home.

It hadn't been for long. Just a couple of months. Then he and his father sold the house and moved away. - And a couple of weeks later the kid had vanished – according to the records. Without a lead first. But according to the police records they arrested his father in evidence of murder. Evidence of murdering his own son.

The school had reported that Samuel Campbell had been missing and that his parents wouldn't call, nor give any informations about Sam's staying away from school. So they sent the child-welfaire to them.

That was when they noticed that their house was abandoned. That it was for sale. That William had taken off without his son's belongings. That was when they caught him two states over in a rusty-brown mustang – all on his own. Without a kid, nor any items that could possibly belong to a teen.

And after that all tracks got cold. The kid had vanished. - Just like that.

„Do you remember why we moved away?", John asked – Dean was able to sense his father's frown – the concern that lingered in his voice. Then he turned around with the plate in one hand and a cool beer int he other one.

Dean tried to remember. Tried hard. Real hard. But it had been THAT time of his live when he started to change. Felt that he started to change. And it was that time, that was more of a blur. Dean had tried to keep his instincts under control, tried to not let them take over control. But he remembered that he had failed. Miserably.

… John had said it was kind of like with human teenagers. - Just that werewolves were a lot more bloodthirsty during these years.

„We moved because I did some stupid things ...", Dean stated concentrated. „I could've hurt someone ..." … could've hurt Sam.

John chuckled and nodded. Then his features changed into something serious. „You were completely fixed at Samuel Campbell." Sadness swung in his voice. „We had to get away from there. You would've gotten in trouble. And sooner or later hunters would've come for us."

Dean nodded and stared at the screen again. After another moment of staring he closed the notebook and sighed, shoving it away, as his father placed the plate in front of him.

„I had to lock you away for weeks. - You were completely out of it ..." John sat down on a stool at the table, uncapping his own beer. „I should've known …"

The younger Winchester stared at the plate. Suddenly not that hungry anymore. „I wasn't an easy kid, was I?" He smacked his lips, a sad smile on his lips. „So … if he's truly Samuel Campbell. - What happened between he had vanished and two days ago?"

John shrugged. „Just Sam knows probably. - Between: Before William was found dead in his cell, he must've said to another prisoner that he hadn't killed the little bastard. He said he sold him to some kind of whoremaster."

Dean frowned, raising an eyebrow at his father. „So you think he was with them ever since?"

John nodded. „Maybe. - Maybe not."

The younger man sniffed at the steak, then eyed the fixings on the side of his plate warily. „Maybe … if we wouldn't have moved away ..." Dean frowned. „Maybe we would've been able to find him … I should've sensed that something was wrong with that family, shouldn't I?"

John shook his head. „You can't change the past. And you couldn't have known. Not in the state you've been in. - Now eat. You gotta be starving, boy."

„And you're supposed to get dressed." Dean grinned at his father. „Not parading around half-naked."

When Dean was done with eating, he told John about the news from Sheriff Mills and took a shower. He prepared a plate with fruits and a banana-milkshake in the kitchen. He brought the things into the bedroom at the nightstand, his gaze fixed at the human.

His heart rate and deep breaths told him, that Sam was awake. Though he didn't move.

„I brought you something to eat, Sammy.", he said gently and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He heard the younger man sniff.

„Do you have to go to the bathroom?"

That definitely got the human's attention. He turned on his back with a silent wince and nodded. „Yes, sir."

„Fine. - I'll help ya'.", he said gently and tugged the comforter down, remembering himself that he had to switch on the lights for him.

Sam sat up slowly, swaying a little bit in his sitting position. Dean was on his side in an instant and steadied him with a gentle grip on his shoulders.

„Are you hurting?" The younger Winchester frowned.

„No, Sir.", Sam answered mechanically.

What a liar … Dean thought, shaking his head with a sigh. „Okay, you're gonna take your pills after you've eaten something. - I don't want them to come back up if you don't."

Sam nodded and stood up, letting himself being helped by the older man. They made their way to the bathroom. Dean sat him down on the toilet bowl and left the room then. He waited until he heard the flushing toilet from the inside and he saw the door handle being pushed down.

Together they made their way back into the bedroom, where Dean let Sam sit down on the bed. He stood before him – thinking. Then he laid his hand on Sam's yaw and tipped his head up – gently. He smiled at him. Green eyes looking down warmly at Sam, whose expression remained blank and even a little bit scared.

„Told you. - I want you to look me in the eyes, okay?" Dean kept his voice warm and smooth. „Just like that. - Remember?"

Sam nodded. „Yes sir."

This „Sir" had a bitter undertone for him and made Dean feel uneasy. He wasn't a sir. Hell, he had never been one. He was Dean. Dean Winchester. Sam wasn't supposed to call him that.

„And I honestly would prefer if you'd call me Dean. OK?"

Sam's eyes searched his face warily and asking at the same time. Sam wasn't used to call anyone by his name. It's always been sir or ma'am. Because there were no names. - All the clients were anonym and faceless to him. Just how a good trained hooker was supposed to see them.

„Okay." Dean sighed. „Lets get some food into you.", he muttered and took the plate from the nightstand, placing it in Sam's lap.

He looked at the plate and then up at the man, then at the plate again.

„You know, Sam. - Mary wouldn't like to see you that way ..." Dean squat down before him, catching the man's gaze. „You'd break your mom's heart."

How could he possibly know? His mother's name …

„Do you remember?", he asked, eying Sam closely, seeing the wheels in his mind turning. „You were young, I know. - It's been some years by now." Dean smiled, hope in his eyes. „I braught you to school and home again for a couple of months." He had to remember … „Dean. I'm Dean Winchester, Sammy. - Do you remember me?" …. oh how the kid had hated the nickname.

Sam looked at him confused, tears glistening in his beautiful eyes.

„Sammy?", he asked again, saying the name he was used to call the kid all these years ago. Samuel hated to be called that way, had always corrected him and had this wicked expression on his face when he did so.

But Sam just stared at him in disbelieve.

Dean's face fell. No – He probably didn't remember. „It's okay. - Just … just eat your food, okay?"

How was it even possible? This was Dean? Sure Sam remembered him. One of the less memories he liked to recall. He had been happy back there. Dean had been a friend. His only friend. A damn good friend. - And only maybe he had been more than just a friend for him. He thought to remember about another kind of feelings towards the older man ... bu twasn't quite sure.

The younger Winchester rose, blinking back tears. Usually he wasn't emotionally. Not at all. It was hard to find his soft core and hard to get him to open up. hard to share affection and love and other things like that. He turned around and was about to gain some distance between himself and Sam before he'd break down and would start sobbing – without a reason.

That was when he felt something tugging on his shirt's hem – kitten-soft. He turned around and saw Sam. Looking up at him, holding him back by his shirt's hem. Then – as soon as he realized what he had done - Sam pulled back, shoving the plate from his lap. It fell to the ground, chopped fruits scattered on the floor. He pulled back, crawling backwards on the bed until he felt the hard surface of the headboard against his back and curled up into himself. He pulled his legs close and buried his face in between them, shielding his head with his hands and arms.

Dean just stood there for a moment, first eying the mess ont he floor and then Sam. A couple of moments passed before he was able to say something – to move.

„It's okay ..." He frowned. Dean went around the bed and crawled onto it, kneeling beside Sam. „It's okay, Sammy." Dean laid a hand over his hands, brushing over them carefully. „We can clean it up. Nothing happened. Okay?"

But he wouldn't move – just tremble.

Dean sat down beside him, leaning against the headboard. Then he wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him close, guiding him down until his head laid in his lap. He gently brushed over Sam's fingers, until his grip eased and pulled his arms against his chest again, leaving his face and head exposed.

The younger Winchester ran his fingers thru the long bangs and pulled the comforter over Sam's shivering body with his free hand. „It's okay. - We won't hurt you." He smiled sadly. „I'm going to protect you – I promised. You'll see I keep my promises."

Dean caressed his hair gently, stroke his cheeks and traced his fingertips down Sam's neck along his coronal artery. Some time he stopped to shiver and melted into the gentle embrace and touches. It felt weird to feel the way he felt for the man. It was like all these years ago with the older boy he had spent time for a couple of months. He remembered remember that he liked him. Liked him very much. And this man was so similar to the boy in some ways. The way his voice dropped when he was explaining something. The way his touch felt, when he wrapped his arms around Sam. It was so familiar and though different.

After a long time the man in his lap started to relax and his breaths evened out. His heartbeat slowed down again. It nearly looked like he was asleep, wouldn't it have been for his open eyes.

…... to be continued