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The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time

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While My Heart Recovers, Yours Goes On

Fic title: While My Heart Recovers, Yours Goes On
Author name:  smalltrolven
Genre: Unrequited Wincest, H/C
Pairing: Sam/Dean UST

Rating:  PG

Word count:  7,600

Characters: Sam, Dean
Warnings: Set immediately following “” episode 7.03 “Girl Next Door”, angst and UST in equal measures.
Summary:  Sam does a spell to get rid of his unwanted attraction for his brother, but as his attraction leaves him, the feelings enter Dean and are added to what he already feels for Sam. This leaves Sam with literal heartache and a whole lot of explaining to do.
Disclaimer:  I only own these words, that’s it, nothing else.
Authors Note: Done for a prompt in the OhSam Sam-Centric H/C Fic Challenge by romantiscue :“Sam does a spell to get rid of his unwanted attraction for his brother, but as the attraction leaves him, they enter Dean. And in the process, leave Sam with random bouts of literal heartache. Bonus points if the Wincest stays unrequited (as that's kind of the point, and because I'm a complete angst junkie) and if you have Dean freaking out about his developing attraction to his baby brother.”   Think I covered most of the points in the story, hope you like it romantiscue!

Read here on AO3


The Desiring

He’s doing it again.  He can’t help it.  He knows Dean has noticed, and he’s grateful that he hasn’t called him on it yet.  Guess he’s getting a free pass since Dean knows he’s struggling with figuring out what’s real, and whether Lucifer is driving the Impala or Dean is.  He’s 70% sure it’s Dean.  And so that’s why he’s staring like he is, at his brother’s face, at his hands, his body as he drives them through, what is it   Iowa or Montana?  At least that’s what he tells himself, he’s just trying to figure out what’s real.  It isn’t old habits coming back to haunt him when he’s so vulnerable.  Sam’s managed to stuff those feelings and urges down so deep that Lucifer took 50 years to uncover them when he was in the Cage.  But once he did figure it out,   Oh Boy, now that was some torture on a whole ‘nother level.  Sam’s mind quails away from himself just as the memories brush through like spider webs caught in his hair in the dark.  There isn’t anything he can do to stop it though; the memories assail him, unbidden, unspooling like a dimly-lit movie in his mind.  The only thing that had worked to interrupt them was pressing into that wound on the palm of his hand.  But he used that trick so much that it just doesn’t do much to help anymore. 

He doesn’t think he can take it, the old desires coming up like this on top of everything else he’s dealing with.  How is that even fair?  It’s been so many years of pushing those thoughts and feelings away, it’s like another muscle he has, well developed, some would say over-developed.  Especially now that it’s just them, together, all the time, the all-hours Sam n’ Dean traveling road show.  See The Amazing Hallucinating Sasquatch,  Marvel at the Amazing Repressive Functioning Alcoholic.  Dean doesn’t like to leave him alone for very long, he knows it’s because he’s still so unstable.  But being around his brother all day and all night is like torture.  Well, not really torture, because he knows what that is thanks to his recent stint in Hell and all.  But it’s hard, truly hard, to deny himself any touches from his brother because he’s not sure how he’ll react.  What if he falls back into the habits that Lucifer trained him into while wearing Dean?  If he responds with the heat and desire that he really feels, that he’s always felt, but never shown.  He’s tried to explain it to Dean, what happened in Hell, but it doesn’t make too much sense when he leaves out the taboo part, and he just can’t do that to his brother.  Not after what he’s done for him to get his soul back.  He owes him the peace of mind that he brought back his brother damaged, yes, but not twisted into something, someone he couldn’t stand to be around. 

“You okay over there Sammy?” Dean asks him with his usual warm concern.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I’m okay.  Where are we?” Sam tries to recover, hoping that he didn’t say any of that out loud.  Oh god, what if he did?  He must not have, because Dean would be reacting differently.

“Just outside of Billings, should be there in about twenty.  Ready to stop for the night?”

“Yes. Please, feeling like a pretzel at this point.”  Sam groans trying to stretch in the front seat which seems more cramped than it used to.  Probably because he’s always conscious of where his body is in relation to Dean’s now.   He never used to do that, he was always crowding up against him, not worrying about taking up more than exactly half of the front seat.  Sam finds that he spends a lot of time and energy making sure he stays on his side of the car, carefully not invading his brother’s space.

“You’re way over there crammed against the door, you should spread out a little, I really don’t mind, you know that.”  Dean looks at him with what is that hurt in his eyes?  Or maybe he’s just concerned like he always is now.  Sam guesses it’s because he’s not acting like he used to, when the casual touches and physical closeness they always shared was just part of how they were with each other.  It was their only source of comfort in those hard years before Sam had jumped.  Sam misses it too, so much that it makes him start to well up with tears thinking of what they’ve lost because of his damned obsession with his brother. 

“Alright, I just was worried about kicking you and making us crash if I started flailing around or something.”

“Sam, you seem a lot better lately, I seriously doubt that’s going to happen.  C’mon at least stretch your legs over here a little, I won’t eat them I promise.”

Sam swallows and tries not to blush at the thought of Dean’s beautiful mouth moving down his leg, biting him on his inner thigh and “fine, whatever, just don’t be mad at me if I twitch too much and bug you.”  He moves his legs apart slowly, finally letting his left knee fall across the invisible line drawn on the front seat. 

“Dude, its fine.”  Dean clamps his right hand on Sam’s knee, squeezes and pets it a little now that it’s within grabbing range.  “See you’re not bugging me, really.  Geese, you’re tense.” Dean says as he feels Sam’s lower quadricep which is rock hard.  Sam’s trying so hard not to react that he’s got his muscles completely locked.

“Yeah, you make me soooo nervous, I just can’t relax.”

“Right, whatever.”Dean gives him a curious look, removes his hand from Sam’s leg and turns up the music.

They don’t talk at all, until they get into the latest motel room; this one is a cowboy theme, what a surprise In Montana.   Neither of them even notice or complain about the décor of the places they stay any more.  What would be the point?  Its either amusing, horrifying or incomprehensible, not like it matters much, they’re never around in one place long enough for it to bug either of them enough to bother to mention it.

“Hey, you hungry yet?”

“Yeah, I could eat, but damn, it’s just nice to be out of the car finally.”

“Want to go out tonight or just get some takeout?”

“Can you go get us something? I’ve got some stuff I need to do online.”

“Oh the usual drill huh?  Fine, count on me to be the delivery boy, but see if I remember to get you a salad.”  Dean mock stomps out of the room, they both know he doesn’t really mean it, he isn’t really mad, just playing at it, because he’s supposed to.  When he arrives back with a chef’s salad for Sam’s dinner with his favorite ranch dressing, all Sam can do is smile broadly and thank him, quieting that thrill that he gets deep in his belly, that Dean remembers all his favorites and indulges him like its nothing, no big deal, just one brother trying to make another brother happy, right?

Sam’s left with trying to figure out another solution, there’s got to be something he could do to get rid of these feelings he has for his brother.  He knows there must be some sort of spell out there if he could just find it.  So he goes into research mode, which feels familiar and safe, this at least he still knows how to do.  He has to disguise his efforts from Dean of course, pretending to research possible cases for them as they haphazardly bounce around the country, hiding from the Leviathans and taking care of jobs that Bobby calls them up to handle. 

After many weeks of searching he thinks he’s finally found it in his searching tonight, an old Celtic based spell which calls for it to be performed under a dark moon where a river meets the sea, if he’s interpreted the poem that the spell is written in. The dark moon is required because the way these spells work is that the darkness assists in the taking or drawing away of something.  They’re nowhere near an ocean at this point and the dark moon is in three nights, so he needs a case, or at least a pretext for a case to get Dean to drive them to one of the coasts.  The west coast is much closer, and he of course knows that California is pretty much out, as far as Dean’s internal map of the US is concerned, California just doesn’t exist, and the Pacific might as well kiss the shore of the coast of Nevada.  They both know why, and they’ve never talked about it, and Sam never insists that they go there.  It’s just easier that way.  So Washington or Oregon it is, Sam searches around and finally finds a series of three possibly suspicious deaths in a lumber mill in Coos Bay, Oregon.  They can get there in three days, no problem it’s just over a thousand miles.  It should only be about seventeen hours driving, at least the way Dean drives.

 Only three more days of feeling this way Sam thinks to himself, he can do that, last for three more days without doing or saying anything that would give away what he’s been hiding from Dean all this time.  He finds he’s looking forward to the relief he’ll feel when the spell has done its work and taken away the burden of desire that he’s carried all these years.  Sam doesn’t want anything coming between them any longer, they’ve had enough of that, and somehow gotten through it all.  He just wants it to be easy between them, like it should be between brothers.  Or what he guesses it should be like between “normal” brothers.  He doesn’t really know for sure about that of course.  He thinks of how much more relaxed he’ll be able to be with Dean and wonders if his brother will even notice.  He tries not to think about how much he’ll miss it, this nagging desire that’s been there for so many years, like he’s gotten used to having yet another person riding along in his skull, constantly pointing out how beautiful Dean looks when he’s backlit by the setting sun, drinking a beer, the line of his throat pulsing as he swallows.  Sam has to shake himself back to the task at hand, if he lets his thoughts go down that road for too long he won’t be able to pull off sounding easy and light and convincing when he tells Dean about their new, urgent “case” In Oregon.

The Desired

It’s all too easy for Sam to get them moving towards Coos Bay, Dean’s always up for a case these days, giving him something to do besides obsessing over how Sam’s dealing with the Hellucinations that never seem to go away.  Dean wishes there was some way to take on some of the pain of dealing with them from his brother, but all he can do is be there and make sure Sam doesn’t hurt himself or anything.  Seeing him lost to the world and stuck in delusions day after day but still pushing through to reality again and again makes him admire his brother even more.  He doesn’t say it to Sam of course, but he thinks his brother is the bravest man he’s ever known.  He finds himself watching Sam a lot as they drive, just as he always has, the not-so-brotherly feelings stuffed way down underneath as usual, being ignored, but always there.  He watches Sam as much as he can get away with because it seems that Sam’s always looking at him now.  He thinks all the extra looking Sam is doing must be about the trying to stay in touch with reality thing, he’s Sam’s touchstone for that, so he tries not to read anything else into all those long looks he feels Sam giving him as he drives.  Dean admits it to himself, he just plain loves it that his brother is even there next to him to look at, that he’s not in Hell or soul-less or dead, he’s with him, there in the Impala’s passenger seat, right where he’s supposed to be.

Another day and half of driving with Sam keeping to himself on his side of the front seat, watching him most of the way from Billings to Coos Bay.  Dean tries not to let it rattle him, wants to give his brother what he needs to get through this, whatever it may be. If it means being examined so closely while Sam wears that odd look on his face like he’s stressing, trying to decide something really important but also smiling fondly as if remembering their lives together.  He really wishes he could ask Sam what’s going on, especially since he’s acting strangely in another way, he’s not touching Dean any more. Like, at all. Which is weird, really weird.   And Dean, since he’s on a roll of being honest with himself for once, admits that he misses it more than he’d ever imagined.  They’d always been very tactile with each other, coming from the way they were raised to always be checking on the state of your partner after hunts, being lonely unless they’re with each other, finding comfort in connecting physically, no matter how fleeting the touch, a shoulder rubbed or patted, a knee grabbed and squeezed, a back slapped or pounded. None of that is happening now, Sam is closed off physically to him, he’s squirreled himself away into his own container of misery, Dean assumes, dealing with the backwash from his years spent in Hell.   Dean doesn’t think there’s anything else it could be that’s keeping his brother from touching him, so he mirrors his actions, not touching him at all, wanting to give him the space he obviously needs.  But it’s hard to do.  Much harder than he would have thought, not to tousle Sam’s hair as they talk about random shit that doesn’t matter to anyone, or to rub his too-taut shoulders as he hunches over his laptop yet again for another night spent closeted up in their motel room.  Dean’s glad he’s back, don’t get him wrong, he appreciates how good he’s got it, that Sam is even here with him, but he admits that he feels there’s something wrong between them.   And he knows it has something to do with the new not-ever-stated-no-touching rule.

Finally they pull into Coos Bay, late afternoon with a storm looking like it is heading in off the Pacific.  It’s really windy when they pull up in front of the first unremarkable, non-chain motel they see in town.  This time it’s the Harbor Lodge, with a pretty cool neon vintage looking sign that has all of the letters actually lit up at once.  “Would you look at that Sammy, we get all the letters this time.” Dean says sarcastically, looking over at his brother trying to get his shoes back on as they’re pulling into the driveway.  “I’ll get the room.” Sam says over his shoulder as he practically leaps out of the Impala as soon as they’re nearly stopped.    “What’s the big hurry?” Dean says to the suddenly empty car.  He shrugs his shoulders and watches Sam through the porthole office window.  Sam’s grinning so brightly he can practically hear the desk clerk melting.  How does the average person resist his brother when he turns that smile on he wonders for the millionth time.

Sam comes out of the office quickly waving a key ring that has a miniature ship’s wheel dangling from it.  He starts walking around the back of the building and Dean follows, parking right in front of the last room on the end.  Just like he likes it, Sam knows his preferences so well it isn’t even worth remarking on, but it still makes Dean happy that his brother is all the way back with him now, so that these little things that add up to this part of their life working so well happen without anyone having to do or say anything special.  Just like it’s supposed to be.  Comfortable, predictable.

They both grab their duffels out of the trunk and head into the room, which has a predictably tacky nautical theme, not too over the top for once, thank Kali for small favors, and with the added bonus of having a fairly new carpet.  Dean always likes newer carpet in these places, so much of the funky smell in the small motels they usually stay in are contained in those always a few years past replacement date carpets.  Dean flops on the bed closest to the door, stretching out and starfishing, trying to get comfortable on the slightly lumpy mattress.  Sam sets up his laptop right away at the little table by the window, and starts telling him right away all about the case they’re there to work.  Three people found dead in a lumber mill that’s near the harbor.  One per month, but not near the full moon, ruling out werewolf.  The bodies were all found in the same place, near the finished lumber exit door.  And each had some signs of an animal type attack, everything but the faces chewed on.

The Deed

They find themselves lunch at a deli after checking out the lumber mill which was closed since it is a Sunday.  “Man these subs are something else, we’re coming back here tomorrow for lunch.” Dean tells Sam through a mouthful of sandwich. 

“Sure, whatever,” Sam looks up at Dean “God Dean will you ever stop with the talking with your mouth full thing, I swear you get worse about it every year.” Sam answers with the predictable yet somehow fond bitchface Dean always expects.

They leave Werther’s Deli with a bag of two more Werther’s Works subs for “later” according to Dean.  “If you keep eating those, you’re going to have permanent pepperocini breath, don’t think too many ladies go for that you know.”

“Not to worry Sam, we’re on a case, not looking for any action.”  Dean doesn’t want to think about how he hasn’t been looking for any hookups in a really long time, he can’t even remember the last time he even tried.  Must have been before the year with Lisa, before Sam’s Swan Dive, frustrated with himself and how far he’s fallen off “normal” he tries to get them back on the case for something else to think about.  “So, what do you think since it isn’t a werewolf?  I’m guessing Wendigo, how about you?”

“I think it’s something else, especially after reading the coroner’s reports.  We haven’t ever seen it before, but I read about it in one of Bobby’s books on Japanese demons and monsters, a Nukekubi.”

“Say again?”

“Nukekubi, a creature that looks human by day, but at night has a detachable flying head and also an uncontrollable urge to bite and eat people, especially men.”

  “Whoa, that’s a new one.  How do we gank it?”

“Well, you can sometimes see the red marks around its neck when it is human, but otherwise, you have to find the headless bodies and destroy them before the heads return and reattach.”

“Cool and gruesome.  How do you remember all this stuff Sam?  It’s kinda scary sometimes how much of a walking encyclopedia of weirdness you are.”

“Yeah, yeah, so you’ve told me before.  But it comes in handy saving your ass sometimes right?”

“True, and this ass is definitely worth saving.” Dean can’t help but waggle his eyebrows delivering  a line like that.

“Huh, I suppose I’d have to agree, especially when you put it like that.”  Sam manages not to look too longingly at the ass under discussion.

“Whatever, Weirdy McWeirderton, how do we find this Nookuby anyways.”

“It’s Nukekubi Dean, and I think we’ll have to stake out the mill tonight since that’s where it seems to keep attacking.”

“But won’t that be where the head is?”

“Yeah, but I thought maybe we could scare it and follow it as it goes back to rejoin with its body.”

“Alright, how do you scare a floating biting head?”

“Haven’t come up with that part of the plan yet, thought I’d leave it up to you since it might involve fire or something.”

“You’re too good to me Sammy.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Later that night armed with some crude firebombs they stake out the mill, and sure enough the Nukekubi comes flying in, aiming towards the night watchman’s hut.  They throw the firebombs which seems to do the trick of scaring and distracting the floating head which reverses course, zooming back out of the mill.  They jump into the Impala and try to keep up with it as it zips down the road back to town, finally slowing at a four unit apartment building.  “Did you see where it went in Sam?”

“No I lost track of it in the lights, but it definitely went into this building.”
“Great, which one, how do we figure out which door to bust down?”

“At least there’s only four choices, let’s see if we can peek in and see something through the windows.”
“There, on the lower floor, see that shadow, looks like something circular bobbing around.”

“Yeah that’s gotta be it. Let’s go.”

They move to the door, not bothering to knock of course and crash through, looking for the headless body.  Sam sees it, lying on the bed so he runs forward, throwing his knife towards the heart as the head tries to fly in and reconnect.  The knife hits home and the body jerks and stills, the head rolls off and under the bed.

“Aww, that’s just gross.” Sam exclaims as he withdraws his now very bloody knife from the dead body.

“Get the shower curtain, we’re going to wrap this up to go.”

“Dude, you sound like you’re trying out some CSI lines or something. Lame.”

“Whatever, let’s get it done.”

Sam grabs the shower curtain and they roll the body and head up tightly, carrying it out to the Impala trunk.  They drive back out towards the mill area which was really deserted this late at night.  “Time to light ‘er up Sammy.” Dean gleefully throws his lighter on to the gas-soaked body.  Sam grins at him, helpless in holding back the admiring looks because of how damned beautiful his brother is, lit up glowing golden not only by the fire’s light, but by the adrenaline of the hunt.

After a short stopover at the bar next door to Werther’s Deli, (Dean mentioning he wishes it was open late so he could get another sub for dinner), they head back to their home of the moment.  Dean passes out quickly, snoring that deep snore that Sam knows means he’ll be solidly out for at least several hours.  At least the hunt wrapped up in time for him to be able to concentrate on the real reason they’re here, getting the spell done tonight.  He pauses to look at Dean one last time with the familiar desire thrumming through his whole system, and has to shake himself out of it before he touches Dean or something worse.  That’s exactly why he’s doing this.  He grabs the car keys as quietly as he can and heads out to the Impala.  All the stuff for the spell is in a bag hidden under the passenger seat where Dean never looks unless he’s on one of his sporadic car detailing binges. 

Sam drives out to the spot he’d located, just out of Coos Bay, back over the slough, past Bunker Hill, over the bridge on the Coos River Highway, stopping just off the exit at East Catching Slough Road, where the Coos River flows into Coos Bay.  Sam hopes it counts for the spell’s requirements as a river flowing into the sea, because Coos Bay isn’t the open ocean.  He sits in the car for a bit, just thinking and breathing, trying to convince himself for the last time that this is what he needs to do, that it’s the right thing for both him and Dean.  The only alternative.  There’s no going back after he does this.  He runs through all the reasons again in his mind, all those possibilities that Lucifer keeps taunting him with; hurting his brother; ruining what they have together; making him go away permanently.  Sam’s not stupid, he knows this is a risk working a spell like this, but he’s desperate to get some relief from this constant pressure and worry of spilling all of it to Dean, wrecking them forever.  He tells Lucifer to stay in the car, grabs the bag with the spell stuff and heads for the shore. 

The spell is set up and done quickly, the hardest part was the getting to the location by the dark moon.  Sam found the old Celtic words felt weird rolling off his tongue.  Especially all the words about feelings lost forever being replaced with the truth. Or telling the truth from now on, something like that, Sam’s not sure of the exact translation.  But he figures telling the truth will be easier since the feelings are gone, he won’t have much to worry about now. 

He feels lighter as he sneaks back into their room, closing the door as quietly as he can and slipping back into bed.  He looks over to see Dean, still unmoving, the light from the neon motel sign across his face in stripes from the mini blinds.  Sam looks his fill and feels nothing, no swoop in his belly from seeing the what he used to call the perfect curve of his brother’s ass outlined just so by the draped sheet, no getting stuck on how perfectly stupidly beautiful his brother’s face is in the dim neon stripes.  He feels nothing beyond gratefulness that he’s there with his brother, who he loves, but just as a brother is supposed to.  Feels nothing else, except his heart hurts, just physically aches, quite deeply.  He rubs his chest for a while as he falls asleep, hopeful now that he’s done the right thing, and dreaming of Lucifer and Dean sharing a sub sandwich and arguing over whether pepperocini or pickles are better.

The Desire

In the morning the first thing Sam notices is the deep pain in his chest is still there and is much worse than last night.  More than just heartburn or indigestion, he feels his heart just hurting, aching.  A lot.  It gets to be so bad over the next few days that he’s gone through almost half an entire bottle of Advil.  He has to fess up to Dean that there’s a problem and they find a clinic where he gets a confusing “something’s wrong with your heart, we’re not sure what, not life-threatening, go see a specialist, here’s a referral.”  Sam’s relieved to know he’s not dying or anything, although sometimes it feels like he is.  He can tell that Dean’s getting more and more worried about him.

They leave Coos Bay behind after going to the deli one last time, eventually pulling over at a riverside picnic area to eat their sandwiches.  It’s really beautiful there, quiet, no one else around, just a small river slowly rolling past, near enough to hear the water’s movement from where they’re sitting.  Dean enjoys the quiet sounds for a bit, along with the last few bites of the last of his Werther’s Works sub.  He licks his fingers slowly to get the oil and vinegar dressing off.  “Man, I’m going to miss those subs.  How are you feeling Sam, heart getting any better?”

“Okay I guess, heart’s about the same, still really hurts.”

“Should we stick around and get you to that specialist, get it really checked out?  I’m kind of worried that it’s something that will come back to get us if we don’t take care of it.”

“I get that you’re worried Dean, but they said it wasn’t life-threatening, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s getting worse.”

Dean’s quiet for a while, just chewing thoughtfully, staring off into the distance looking at the river roll by them.  Suddenly he asks, “Hey Sam you want to keep doing this?”
“Doing what?” Sam asks in surprise.

“This job.” Dean says firmly, weighting the words with everything they contain, all their past jobs together, fighting to save the world, losing their father, all of it.

“What do you mean? Of course I want to keep doing this, it’s what we do isn’t it? What would we do otherwise?”  Sam can’t even believe Dean’s asking him something like this, it’s so unlike him.

“I don’t know, something else, anything else.  I’m tired of risking everything, for what seems like no good reason.”  Dean shrugs and tries to look nonchalant, not succeeding at all, Sam can see the underlying deep tiredness that isn’t just from worrying about him, there’s something more going on.  If he can keep him talking maybe he can get him to the bottom of it.

“Dean, that’s the whole point right, remember “saving people, hunting things, the family business”, the only way that means anything is if we keep doing it until we can’t anymore.  There’s too much out there that we know about, that we know we can fix to just stop trying.  You couldn’t live with yourself. Be honest.”

“You’re right.  I’m just tired I guess, and worried about losing you again.” Dean pauses, surprised that he actually said the truth instead of being vague about it, he didn’t mean to do that. “Uh, anyways. Thanks man. You always did know how to put things to get me out of thinking that way.” Dean reaches over and slaps him on the shoulder soundly, with a brotherly squeeze, letting go a bit less quickly than usual.

“You’re welcome.  Just keep on keeping on, that’s what we do best right?” Sam returns the shoulder slap and squeeze, watching his brother’s face, seeing something unusual flit through his expression as he lifts his hand away. He must be making it up, but it looked like heated longing, for what his hand on Dean’s shoulder? And what was with the honesty there, hearing Dean say outright that he was worried about losing him is nice and all, but not how Dean usually talks to him.

“You know you’re the only reason I’m still here Sammy, the reason I’m still doing this job that no one else but us seems to want to do.  There isn’t anything else in the world I’d rather be doing than this, right now, with you. Well except lying naked on a beach with you somewhere in Mexico.”  Dean covers his mouth in shock that he just said that, blushing completely red to the tips of his ears, his eyes wide and not moving from Sam.

‘Mmmm, sounds good, wait, what, naked?!” Sam turns in complete surprise, did his brother really just say that to him?  Or is Lucifer messing with him once again?  But Dean looks just as surprised as he does, and he’s holding his hand over his mouth like he’s trying to keep anymore words from coming out, and he’s bright red.

But speak he does, through the hand over his mouth, “Yeah, um about that, you know a man has needs, and well it seems you fill a lot of those for me Sam. Always have.  Don’t know how to say it any plainer than that.  I’ve always wanted to tell you, but until now, I just didn’t want to wreck everything else between us.  That make sense?”

“Yeah, but wow that’s kind of major.  Sure I guess it makes sense. Dean, what’s changed, what made you want to tell me?”

“Well after your heart started giving you trouble, it just became clearer to me that we really have been lucky all these years that neither of us has exactly stayed dead for very long, and just, well if I lost you for real, I didn’t know what I’d do.  I didn’t want to risk you dying without knowing this, about how I feel about you.  I just felt like I needed to tell you the truth.”

“Oh. Oh god.” Sam’s stomach drops out suddenly, instantly knowing this has something to do with the spell.  It’s rebounded to Dean somehow, especially the telling the truth part.

“I have to admit Sam, that’s not the reaction I was expecting or hoping for.”

“Well I’m glad that you said something finally.  I have a confession to make that’s kind of about that. I’m not sure how you’re going to take this, so let me finish, I’m just going to say it.  I felt the same way Dean, I’ve always wanted you, completely in every way, since I was a teenager.  And the feelings wouldn’t go away and I was getting more and more frustrated with not being able to do anything or say anything about it, so I did a spell when we were in Coos Bay to make the feelings go away.  I just couldn’t handle them along with the Hell stuff.  It was pulling me into too many pieces.   I needed you too much to take the risk of telling you.”

“What?! What the hell Sam? How could you do that? Why didn’t you talk to me? Doing goddamned magic? How does that ever help anything?!”

“I had to Dean, I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t deal anymore, and I was having such a hard time keeping it together.  I wish I’d said something, oh god, I wish I had.”

“So what? Now you just don’t have those feelings anymore?”

“Yeah that’s right, they’re just gone.  And I think they may have rebounded to you somehow.  Since the heart thing is related to their absence, and you started feeling so strongly this way right at the same time that’s the only thing I can figure out.  So I’m sorry Dean, I’m pretty sure you’re feeling my feelings not your own.  You never would have said something like that to me, about wanting to be naked on a beach and all, that’s not all you.  Also, part of the spell was the feelings being replaced by the telling of truth.  I didn’t know the spell would affect you at all, I swear.  But here’s the thing, the most messed-up result of what I did, I miss feeling that way about you so much that I’ve done actual physical damage to my heart.  I wish I’d never done the spell, I hope you can forgive me.”

Dean stands up and paces away from the car, hands in his pockets, shoulders shrugged up almost to his ears.  He speaks to the water, just loud enough for Sam to hear him.  “You know Sam, I don’t know if I can forgive you.  Because I love you, and I want you and I always have felt that, there’s no way those aren’t my own feelings, this is something I’ve been dealing with my whole life, keeping it from you, trying not to think about it. Dude it’s been an issue since we were teenagers.  This is not a new thing to me, and I doubt that spell was powerful enough to change my memory, because yours isn’t changed. You remember having the feelings right?”

Sam wishes he still had the feelings for Dean because he knows the voice would have been chanting gleefully in his head “He wants me, he loves me, he always has!”, but there’s only silence, and the memory of the feelings, and his aching heart. “Yeah I definitely remember having the feelings since I was a teenager too, so maybe you’ve got something there.  Maybe what happened is that my feelings got added onto yours somehow.”

“Hey I bet that’s the extra bit that pushed me to actually say something to you. I wondered what had gotten into me! I mean, me busting out with my feelings all of a sudden, pretty weird right?”

“Definitely weird.  I can’t believe I never knew Dean, I always hoped, but I just never knew.”

“Hah! Fat lot of good that does us!  And now that you do know Sam, now that I’ve taken that risk to ruin everything between us by telling you how I’ve always felt, I find out that not only did you feel the same way all along, but that it hurt you so much that you did a spell to get rid of it!”

“It wasn’t like that.  It wasn’t that it hurt me. I just couldn’t keep struggling against you know, Lucifer and using you as my touchstone. You’re my rock, my way back to reality Dean.  And it was starting to get so those feelings I had for you were overwhelming me, I couldn’t risk telling you by accident, because I didn’t know what you’d do.”

“What you thought I’d just pick up and leave you or something?  Jesus, Sammy, don’t you even know me by now?”

“Yeah, I do know you Dean, or at least I thought I did.  I was pretty convinced that you’d be so disgusted and freaked out you’d leave me or at least cut me out even if you stayed, and that’s what Lucifer was telling me too.  I couldn’t have survived either of those Dean.  I haven’t been fully honest with you about how bad it’s been dealing with the Hellucinations.  There’s been a lot of times I was pretty sure I wasn’t coming back to you, to reality.”

“I figured as much, based on how I reacted to just four months of being there and I wasn’t stuck in the cage with Lucifer.  I wish you’d said something though, maybe I could have helped somehow. “

“I know, I know, Dean, I’m sorry, I swear I’ll try to do better and tell you what’s happening.  I just didn’t, I mean you had so much on your plate and I didn’t want to burden you with something that you couldn’t do anything about, and I didn’t want to let you see how scared I was, of not coming back to you.”

“ Sam, first of all, you’re the god damn bravest person I’ve ever known, what you did for us, for the world, I mean, I’ll never be able to thank you enough.  Second, you’re not a burden to me, ever, you’re my brother and I love you, so please let me at least try and help you.  And last and this is the most important, no matter what you would have said to me, or how you would have told me about your feelings for me, I never would’ve left you.   Please, Sam, you’ve gotta know that, really know that, it’s the only thing I’ve got at this point.”

“Yeah Dean, okay, I get it now.  I believe you that you wouldn’t have left me.  I’m really sorry that I chickened out, that I couldn’t handle it.  I hope you can forgive me somehow.”

“I will Sam, I will eventually, but it’s a lot, all of this at once.  Give me a little time, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, definitely, I get it.  Thank you.”

They sit there in silence for a little bit, alternating turns in looking at each other, not meeting one another’s glances.  Both wanting to say more, but neither knowing quite what else there is to say or do at this point.  Dean finally shakes himself a little, Sam can see him tense up his body as if preparing to take a blow.

“Does this mean that all this time since you’ve been back and you haven’t, you know, been touching me and I didn’t want to touch you in case it was bothering you, is this the real reason why?  Because, since we’re being honest and everything here; Sam I really missed that, not being able to touch you at all.  I felt kind of unconnected from you because we’ve always done that, you know, our whole lives together.  Can I at least touch you again, like we always did? Can I at least have that?”

Sam takes Dean’s hand in his and squeezes it gently, looking down into his eyes, “Sure, of course Dean, of course.  I’d like that.  I missed it too you know.  More than you’d guess.  It was just part of trying to keep myself under control, so I wouldn’t spoil everything by telling you how I felt.  But now that I don’t have to worry about that anymore, bring on the brother touching.”

“Good, ok, thanks.  So, I uh, assume, because of the spell, you’ll never be able to feel the same way about me again? How exactly do I forgive you for that Sam?” He runs the hand Sam’s not holding through his long hair pushing it out of his eyes so he can see him better.

Sam slightly tilts his head, pushing into the warm, comforting cup of Dean’s hand holding his head so lightly and tentatively, “I don’t know Dean.  I hope you can forgive me.  But I’m not sure how the spell works about stopping new feelings from forming in the future.  Maybe there’s some way around it. If it will fix my heart I’ll be willing to try it.”

Dean withdraws his hands suddenly, using them to gesture angrily between them, “See! You don’t even want to try to get your feelings for me back do you?”

Sam holds his hands up in a calming gesture and captures Dean’s within his grasp, trying to take away the anger with a touch as well as his words, “Well it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just, my heart feels even worse now.  And I think it’s because I know now that you felt the same way about me.  I really fucked up Dean.”

“Yeah you did.  You really did.” Dean grits out, words filled with sharp anger.  They look at each other for a moment, searching faces to see what comes next between them.  Dean sighs deeply, blows out the angriness and asks seriously,”Do we need to go get your heart looked at again since you said its worse?  Maybe Dr. Robert can recommend someone out this way.”

“I kind of don’t want to know how bad it is.  It just feels so jagged and raw, and like it will never really heal . I think the spell ripped my heart somehow getting those feelings out.  They must have been in there pretty deep.” Sam tries to smile but can’t quite manage it.

Dean’s seriousness and intensity sharpen in on his brother, his face so open with all that he’s feeling, so unusual to see it all displayed this clearly, as he asks, “So how do we fix this Sam?  Because I know I’m not ever going to stop loving you.  It’s just not going to happen.  So do I try to get you to fall in love with me again? Is there a counter spell, what?”

Sam’s eyes widen as he hears his brother’s words, thinking to himself, just remembering his deepest feelings and wishes that are now gone, he misses the voice that would have been chanting “he loves me, oh god, he really loves me, just like I always wanted.”  But he doesn’t say that, he can’t do that to his brother, can’t hurt him that way, so he just answers the question instead, “I don’t know Dean, I guess I can research the counter spell thing, see what I can find.”

“What about the getting you to fall back in love with me part?” Dean practically holds his breath as soon as the words leave his mouth, his heart holding off its next beat until he hears Sam’s answer.

Sam smiles shyly at Dean.  “Well, that’s going to take some wooing this time around I think Dean.  Don’t think I’m going to fall for you again just because you’re here, the only one that’s ever here, you’re the hottest thing ever and.”

Dean cuts him off with some excitement, squeezing his shoulders with barely contained glee, “What? You still think I’m the hottest thing ever? See Sammy you’re on your way back to loving me already.”

Shrugging Sam tries not to smile, “No just stating the facts that’s all.”

Dean caresses the back of Sam’s neck gently, smiling at him with predatory intent and all the love he’d always had to hide, “Huh, well I’m not starting from zero at least.”

Sam shivers a little and looks away, “No you’re definitely not.”

“Sam?” he whispers in his ear.

“What Dean?”

“I think this wooing thing is going to be fun.”

“Oh god.”



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Awe shucks this just pulls at your heart strings dean is an amazing man with the capacity to love very deeply especially his sammy.

Thanks so much. Yes, Dean is one of those people can love really deeply, I think he surprises himself sometimes. I'm glad that came through in this story.

Thank you so much for filling my Oddly Specific Prompt :D Can't believe it took me so long to notice! And you nailed everything too!

I'm so glad that you found it, I completely forgot about linking it to you. So I'm happy you think I nailed everything in your prompt, it was a really good one to work with. Thanks!

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