Who You Belong To 4/7

[rain_n_snow]

The last two weeks had been a blur of movement; research and hunting. They had covered eight states and twelve towns in that time. There had been minor injuries, nothing they weren’t accustomed to, but no time, let alone energy. for much more than a few stolen kisses and furtive touching under covers before falling into exhausted slumber every night.

It was still the most content Dean could ever remember feeling. He often woke before Sam and just lay watching his baby brother sleep, running his fingers through Sam’s overly long hair. He probably needed a haircut, but he couldn’t bring himself to mention it, for fear Sam would again end up like that one idiot barber had left him, with his hair nearly as short as Dean’s, which had almost made Dean want to cry a little. He knew Sam’s hair was way more important to Dean than it should be.

They were due for a break, and Bobby had told them they were welcome to borrow the cabin of a fellow hunter any time they were in the area, and today was finally the day for that. They had decided to head to the secluded area this morning and were planning to stay for the next week at least.

Unless something urgent came up, Dean intended to stay for two weeks, just soaking in Sam and doing all the things that he had been storing up during this long wait where they had no energy to explore this new, exciting aspect of their lives and relationship.

“Jess.”

Dean could have never guessed what one whispered word, spoken in sleep and without intent, could do to a heart. He felt like his had been taken out, twisted, torn and stomped on. He truly felt more pain that he could remember feeling, and his life had dealt him a lot.

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By the time Sam came out of the shower, Dean had packed up the car and was ready to leave. He hadn’t even been in bed when Sam woke up that morning and it felt so cold to wake up for the first time in weeks without his big brothers body wrapped around his, somehow colder than before he knew how it felt to sleep snuggled up to Dean’s naked flesh.

Throwing on his clothes and glancing around the room to make sure nothing was left behind, Sam tossed his backpack over his shoulder and closed the door behind him. Dean was coming out of the office, and they met at the car. Sam looked up, but Dean got in the car without any acknowledgement.

Sam’s breathing hitched as he looked at Dean. He could sense something was wrong, really wrong.

After five minutes of driving in silence, Sam couldn’t stand the uncertainty anymore. Almost afraid to ask, but unable to stop the tumble of words from his lips, Sam questioned, ”What is it? What’s wrong, Dean?”

Dean drew a deep breath and flicked a glance at Sam, “Not now, Sam.” But his voice was off, wrong. Dean sounded defeated and achingly sad. Sam’s fear ratcheted up another notch, and he reached out, running his fingers along Dean’s neck.

Jerking as if burned, Dean shook off Sam’s fingers, “No, Sam. Seriously, not now. I don’t want to talk about this now. We’ll talk when we get there, ok?”

Dean didn’t want him Sam touching him, and Sam was terrified, unable to stand the wait, and he dug a fist into his belly, trying to get to the pain. “Dean. I can’t sit here and not know. I can fucking see something is wrong, and it can’t be worse than the things I will imagine if I sit here worrying about it for the next two hours. So, please…”

“It was wrong.” Dean’s voice sounded choked and small.

Sam thought he was going to buckle under the weight of those little words. He had no doubt in his mind what Dean was talking about, though he wished to God he did. He wasn’t able to form a coherent sentence for a few long minutes, fear and pain slashing through him life knives.

“No.” He gasped finally. “No Dean. Don’t say that. You can’t. I can’t….I can’t go back to the way it was. Please don’t be sorry about what happened. Don’t leave me…”

Dean refused to look at Sam. He was doing the right thing. Sam was needy, he wasn’t over Jess, and he had probably just transferred all those feelings to Dean when he had been presented with the opportunity.

Sam needed all those things Dean had taken from him. He needed normal, deserved it. A wife, 2.3 kids and a white picket fence. He heard that one word this morning and knew he was wrong for doing what he had done. Sam would never go out and find all those things again if Dean didn’t end things now, give him a chance for normal.

“It’s just wrong, Sam. We can’t do…that…anymore. I’m not leaving you. You are still my brother, the most important person in the world to me. We just can’t be like…that.” He had never hated words so much in his life, didn’t want to hear himself saying what he knew he had to say. Dean hurt so bad, from the inside out. He couldn’t think of a single part of him that wasn’t aching right at that moment.

Sam was shaking his head, and his arms were wrapped around his middle. Dean glanced at him finally, and could feel the same pain radiating from his baby brother. “No. I won’t let you. You can’t take this from me. Please don’t do this to me. ”

Dean didn’t know what else to say. He knew this would be hard, but Sam was taking it worse than he expected. But, in the long run Sam would be happier, and that’s all that really mattered. Since the day Sam had become his to take care of, he had always known that Sam’s needs had to come first. So no matter how badly Dean hurt inside, he would do this, too, for his Sammy.

“I’m gonna be…damnit…pull the car over, Dean.” Sam gasped out.

“What? Why?” Dean wasn’t sure what was going on, but the sound of Sam’s voice urged him to do just that, he pulled onto a side road, leaving the road to park in a small field.

The car hadn’t completely stopped when Sam flung open his door and staggered out. Falling to his knees, he threw up.

Dean fell to his knees next to Sam and put his arm around Sam’s heaving shoulders, only to be flung off violently by his little brother. “Don’t fucking touch me, you bastard. Don’t you fucking pity me.” Sam threw up again, his body purging everything inside, like it was trying to expel the pain, the misery, the agony.

Feeling completely worthless, Dean knelt there, close but no longer touching Sam, unsure what to do, suddenly feeling like all he could offer were words, which had never come easy to him. “I’m sorry, Sam. I…hell. I shouldn’t have done those things to you. I’m just so sorry. What can I say to make it better?”

Sam’s eyes were wet and blazing when they turned on his big brother. “Fuck you, you self righteous prick.” His voice broke on a gut wrenching sob. “Just fuck you, Dean. I don’t think it was wrong. It felt right to me. I guess you think I’m sick for that, don’t you? I wanted those things.”

“Damnit, Sammy. I don’t mean ‘wrong’ like in the moral sense. Hell, in this fucked up life of mine, I don’t know what’s right or wrong like that. I mean I’m trying to do what’s right for you, for your life.” Dean’s eyes pleaded with Sam. He didn’t realize he could hurt more, fuck, was there no limit?

“Right for me? How would you know what’s right for me, Dean? How bout you realize I’m a fucking grown man and can decide for myself what I want?” The words were so harsh, coming from Sam’s raw, burning throat, but the tears continued to flow, dripping from his clenched jaw.

Dean slumped, what little fight he had left in him draining out like sand from a broken hourglass, and his body just shrunk in on itself. “I know, Sam. And I know you love me enough that you would stay if you thought it would make me happy. And that’s not right. I can’t take away your chance for more. For all those things you have always wanted. A wife and family, a normal life. I’m so sorry I fucked up.”

“What I’ve always wanted Dean?” Anger was starting to outweigh Sam’s pain. “Do you fucking know me at all? Do you ever listen to me? You are what I have always wanted. Always. I told you that, but this isn’t about me or what I want. You decided this shit on your own and you get to take the credit. Own up to it. You don’t fucking want me, want this, with me.”

Dean sat there for long moments, fighting an internal battle with himself. He owed it to Sam to explain, but dammit this was just too much, he was hurting so badly he just felt like he was being torn apart.

“You dreamt about her last night, about Jess. You called out for her in your sleep.” Dean hadn’t wanted to say it, to hear himself say the words, even though he knew they were true. “You might say this is what you want, but in your sleep, when you aren’t lying to me or yourself, the truth comes out, Sam.”

Sam punched his brother in the face. He had never wanted to punch someone so hard in his whole life. And he was ready to punch Dean again, until he realized that Dean had fallen, but was back on his knees, and wasn’t going to fight back. His face, that beautiful, perfect face was bleeding and broken in more ways than one and he was going to just kneel there and take it, no matter how many times Sam hit him.

“I had a fucking nightmare. I saw her, the way she was that night. Burning and screaming. Damn you, I wasn’t exactly moaning her name in ecstasy, or thinking about white picket fences and babies.” Sam spat the words at Dean, his anger still at the fore. “Now what, Dean? Now tell me your excuse. Why do you really not want me?”

Dean could taste his own tears. He wasn’t sure how long they had been flowing down his face, but his breath was coming in sobs now, and his head fell forward as if he could no longer hold it up. He couldn’t even recognize all the emotions that were rushing through him like a raging rapid, let alone come to grips with it al. Almost wishing Sam would just hit him again so he would have something to focus on, Dean knelt there like he was praying, head bent, all the fight gone out of him.

“Dean?!” Sam taunted, shoving at him, emotionally and physically, “Come on, tell me. I want to know how you are going to push me away without Jess or a fucking ‘normal life’ as a reason.”

Sam wanted to pound his fists into something. To tear his hair in frustration. The heat was going out of his own anger, fear and sadness once again overwhelming him, and his voice came out small and low. “What did I do to make you stop wanting me? I know recently we haven’t been…you know…but it’s not because I didn’t want you…”

Lips crushing down on his stopped Sam’s words. Dean was all over him, hands grasping and digging, clutching in Sam’s unruly hair, while his mouth smashed Sam’s almost painfully. “Shut up, Sam. Shut up, please.” He gasped, his tongue seeking entrance and finding it, invading and searching out the taste and feel of Sam.

Drawing back when he thought he would pass out from lack of oxygen, Dean choked out. “There is nothing you could ever do to make me stop wanting you. Not a fucking thing. God. I was so scared, so goddamned scared.”

Kissing Sam again, his hands framing his beautiful baby brother’s face and jaw. “I need you Sam. Like I need air, but I thought that you wanted that. Wanted normal, wanted more than I could give you…”

Sam was clutching Dean’s back so hard his fingers were going to leave dotted bruises where they clung, dug into ribs and hips. “There is nothing more. Not for me, you are everything, Dean. Everything. I love you so much, and if someone gave me the choice between having what you call normal, all those other things…and you? I pick you. I pick you without one second’s hesitation, every time, Dean, every fucking time. You are my normal. All I’ve ever wanted.”

“Just me?” Dean asked, hating how small his voice sounded, how pleading.

Sam shook Dean hard, once again unsure how to get through that thick skull of Dean’s. “No such thing, Dean. ‘Just you’ is so fucking much, you have no idea. I was only with Jess because I thought I couldn’t have you, only with anyone else because I thought you wouldn’t want me, would hate me for wanting you so damn much.”

Dean wasn’t sure what he had done in his fucked up life to deserve this, but he leaned into Sam, thanking God or whatever gave him Sam. No one had ever wanted Dean just for Dean, certainly not knowing what a mess he was inside. He didn’t know why Sam, perfect, beautiful Sam did, but he was so grateful he felt overwhelmed with it.

“I love you so much, Sammy, so damn much. I thought I was going to die having to watch you leave again. I don’t know if I could have lived through it.” Dean’s voice was strained as it rasped in Sam’s ear. “Tell me what to do. Tell me what I have to do to make you stay, to make you keep loving me. I need you, need to keep you, Sammy. So you have to tell me how.”

“Dean, just trust me, believe in us. I need to know you are in this and aren’t going to give up and push me away like this ever again. I can’t do this…this…ever again, and I can‘t live in fear of it happening every time you freak. I just can’t.”

Dean’s fingers were running through Sam’s hair, and his words were muffled against Sam’s throat. “I trust you, Sam. You have always had my heart, not that anyone else ever wanted it, but it wouldn’t have mattered. My heart has been yours since you were just a baby.”

Sam was stunned at the rawness of Dean’s voice, his heart there in every rasped out word. He loved Dean so much in that moment he thought he might die from it, this gorgeous human being loved him and that was the best, least normal thing he could ask for.

chap 5