Dean was gone by the time Sam finished his shower but there was a note on the nightstand that said, "Went for a walk. Go to bed." And despite the high-handedness of the order, suddenly there was nothing that Sam wanted to do more than just that.

He pulled on a pair of boxers and crawled under the covers, sleep claiming him almost immediately, his dreams once again dark and bloody.

When he opened his eyes again, Dean was standing over him, a grim look on his face.

"So how long are you going to be mad at me for?" Sam asked as he rubbed his hands over his eyes. He knew he'd screwed up, but he wasn't sure how much lecturing he could handle at this point. When he looked back up, he was surprised to see the strength of the renewed anger on Dean's face.

"You don't get it, do you?" Dean was suddenly kneeling over him, his face only inches away. "Mom's dead and Dad's gone and you are all I fucking have in this world." And just as quickly as it had come, the anger was gone. "I can't lose you, Sammy."

"I'm sorry."

Dean shook his head and looked away. "Do you want to die? Is that it?"

"No!" Sam put his hand on the back of Dean's neck in an effort to get him to look up. "I don't want to die. I promise." That got his attention, and Sam immediately wished that it hadn't as he lay there pinned under the intensity of Dean's gaze.

"Then what do you want?"

"I- Dean."

"Jesus, Sammy." Dean's eyes slid shut as he leaned in. "You're going to have to tell me to stop."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sam whispered just before Dean's mouth claimed his, and Sam knew that it was a dangerous game they were playing as he clutched Dean's shoulders, pulling at the T-shirt to get to the skin underneath.



"Good enough."

Sam's hips bucked up as one of Dean's thighs slid between his own and he knew he wasn't going to last long because god, it had always been Dean, burning bright at the center of Sam's universe. Dean's intensity and the power it had over him- not the hunting- that Sam had run away from.

"I tried," Dean panted in his ear as he thrust against Sam's hip. "I tried but I couldn't stay away. I let you go once and I can't do it again."

"Never again," Sam promised, groaning as he finally got his hands on bare skin.

Dean's lips crushed against his again and Sam was lost in the slick, wet heat and taste, violent and desperate, as if with one kiss they could make up for years of denying themselves.

He could feel the pressure building in every muscle and he tightened his arms around Dean's body like he could make them one person through sheer strength and will, afraid of what would happen once this initial fit of passion was spent. So he tried to hold back, calm down but it was too much, too overwhelming and he shuddered violently as his climax overtook him.

"Sam." Dean groaned and bit Sam's shoulder. He slumped against Sam a moment later, and Sam welcomed the solid weight on top of him.

After several minutes, Dean rolled over to the other side of the bed and then wrapped his arm around Sam's waist. "So, do we have to talk about this?"

Sam shook his head. "I'd really rather not. Not right now, anyway."

"Yeah," Dean said around a giant yawn. "I can definitely live with that."

The bed was empty when Sam woke up, and for a moment he was afraid that he'd imagined the previous night's event's, except that when he turned his head he could see the crescent-shaped bruise on his shoulder.

"Sorry about that."

He turned to see Dean hovering in the bathroom's doorway, hair damp, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I kind of like it." Sam propped himself up on his elbows and waited.

"I'll keep that in mind," Dean said with such dark promise that Sam was instantly hard and aching.

"Jesus, Dean."

"Need a hand?"

Sam looked over to see that Dean's posture was much less self-assured now. They both knew that their relationship had been irrevocably changed last night, and however Sam reacted now would decide where they went from there.

He threw off the covers and leaned back against the pillows. "Yeah." He shifted a little, self-conscious under Dean's scrutiny. "I'm always gonna need you."

Dean shook his head and stayed where he was. "Not as much as I need you, Sam. Do you know how much that scares me? Of all the things we've seen and done, nothing scares me quite so much as having this."

"What about not having this?" Sam asked quietly.

"You're right." Dean closed his eyes for a moment. "Not having this scares me more."

"We're different. Isn't that what you've always told me?" It was something that used to irritate Sam to no end. He didn't want to be different. "And you're right. We are different. Nobody is ever going to know or understand. We don't have anyone but each other."

There was a certain freedom in admitting all the things he had spent so long denying, giving up all the dreams that had never had a chance of coming true, though the blank look on Dean's face made Sam wonder if he agreed.

"So what do we do?"


Sam reached out his hand and waited for Dean to walk over and take it before pulling him onto the bed and whispering, "Anything we want."

The belt came three days later and they were set to leave that afternoon.

"Don't worry about it," Amy said when Sam tried to pay her. She glanced at Dean and shrugged. "There are some debts that can't be repaid."

Sam didn't argue. He no longer wondered what it was that had caused Dean to tell this girl that they were an item. There was something off about her. About the whole town, actually.

He was glad to see the last of it, and could tell that Dean felt the same way, which is why they left town and didn't look back. Didn't turn to wave goodbye, or check the rearview mirror. They didn't see the buildings dissolve into nothing, leaving only the heat waves and an empty stretch of highway in their place.