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The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time

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Fic: Inheritance - Part 3 of 4 (Sam/Dean NC-17)

~*~ Masterpost~*~Part 2~*~

They wake up in the enormous bed the next day intertwined and pretty sticky since neither of them bothered to clean up last night. Dean grumps about it until Sam starts blowing him. Then there’s no more complaining.  Sam pulls off soon, and hands Dean the tube of lube, rolling to the side and spreading his legs.

Dean chuckles when he sees Sam’s face. Sam wants this, needs it. And no way is Dean questioning this, they switch all the time, or at least they used to.  Not out of a fair’s fair thing, but because they both like it, and want it, Dean would even admit to himself that he needs it sometimes, which means Sam does too. Because last night, amazing doesn’t even cover it. He gets right to work opening Sam up thoroughly, after he’s only partway inside his brother he pauses for Sam to be able to adjust and touches his stomach softly, to gentle him. “So tight Sammy, did you miss this?”

“Shut up Dean.”

“Oh what? Only you get to say anything?” Dean snarks, amused that his brother’s objecting to any words at this point.

“No. Just don’t want to think about what I missed. Just want this, want you now,” Sam says, looking up at Dean with a frank, open smile that urges Dean to drop it and just do him already.

Dean’s face changes as he absorbs those words, goes quickly from a smirking taunt to an open adoring smile, he presses in the rest of the way until he’s deeply seated inside Sam. “You got it Sammy.”

Neither of them use any more words after that, unless you count the ones that Sam babbles as he’s coming after long minutes of fast and then slow pounding from Dean. And that’s only one word, screamed out as if it had fifteen syllables, Dean’s name.  That’s when Dean knows he’s given back to Sam what he was given last night. Exactly what he needed. Knowing that is the last thing he needs, the hitch in Sam’s voice as he finishes saying Dean’s name, like a prayer, that makes him come hard and deep inside Sam.

They lie there panting for a long moment, just looking at one another. Neither one knowing what to say. Because it feels different. Because of what Sam did last night, because Dean listened and believed him. Sam turns his head to the left and bites Dean hard on the dark mark on the inside of his right wrist, he hears Dean’s intake of breath that tells him the reminder is still working. Dean’s really not forgetting. Sam licks over the bite to soothe it, then kisses it with warm, wet suction.

Dean pulls out gently and flops over next to Sam. “Thanks Sammy, I needed that.”


The next day as they’re driving, Sam sees Dean touching the love bite again and again and smiling so slightly he almost misses it. That’s when he knows that Dean really believes him this time.

Sam renews the mark every few days so it won’t fade out too much.  Dean pretends to complain, but he never stops Sam from doing it. It means too much to him, and feels too good too when Sam is licking and sucking and biting him in such a vulnerable and public spot on his body.  He knows he should stop touching it, especially when he’s driving and Sam could notice.  But rubbing over that spot on his wrist, feeling the familiar curl of want in his belly at the thought of how undone he feels whenever Sam bites him there is just too delicious.

A few weeks later, Dean’s rubbing at it again while he’s driving, and this time Sam reaches over to stroke his thumb over the spot making Dean shiver even though he should be used to it by now.

“Why don’t you just tattoo it on there or something Sam? I think I get the point by now,” Dean says, irritated with himself for reacting this way, for letting Sam get to him like this, for liking it so much, for getting so turned on by the idea he’s just thrown out there for Sam to grab onto and not let go like the terrier that he always has been.

Sam’s eyes widen in surprise, and he doesn’t stop rubbing gently over the bite, thinking about what Dean’s suggestion really means. “Really, you’d want a tattoo there? Where everyone can see it all the time?”

“Yeah, why not?  ‘s not like I haven’t seen people noticing the damn mark anyways.  You pick something.  But I want you to have it too, the same thing, in the same place,” Dean answers, hoping that by asking Sam to choose something for them both to have tattooed Sam will understand what he’s really feeling.  That he is Sam’s, and Sam’s his. And that isn’t changing. Ever again.

“We already have matching tattoos Dean, aren’t those enough?” Sam asks, curious if he’s really understanding what Dean is saying here, because this is beyond important, this is everything right here, everything that he’s ever wanted and never could ask for.

“No, those didn’t mean what this would.  This is for now, for what this means,” Dean says, frustrated that Sam might not be getting it, because he truly does not want to have to say it out loud because he always screws that kind of thing up.  And if he messes this up now Sam would kill him.

Sam sees his frustration and takes pity on him and asks, “What, that we’re choosing to be together?”

“Yeah for the future and all that stuff. And I like the idea of how the tattoo is permanent,” Dean adds, relieved that Sam gets it.

“Are you tired of me biting you all the time?” Sam asks.

“No, uh not that. You don’t have to stop that unless you want to,” Dean answers, trailing off with a little embarrassment.

Sam practically purrs with happiness. “Good because I like doing it.”

And Dean can’t answer, suddenly tongue-tied with the relief he feels at hearing that.  He loves that overwhelming emotion of craving permanence and connection that hits him every single time Sam bites him there.  The always present reminder of that night when Sam took him apart piece by piece and put him back together again.  The words Sam says, the ones he doesn’t say but communicates anyways. All those about how they’re together forever now. Choosing each other over and over again. Through time and all the dimensions they’ve visited in their travels together.


Sam researches symbols for a while, and finally comes up with something that he thinks Dean won’t object to, and hopefully he’ll even like it once he tells him what the symbol represents.  He prints out a black and white version that has the explanation of the symbol to give to his brother when Dean gets back to the motel with their dinner. Waiting and looking out the window, Sam thinks back to that night in Madison when Dean let him put them back together again, how everything has changed for them from that point forward in such a fundamental way. He’d never imagined how good this could be.

“Hey, ready for some of Springville, New York’s finest barbequed brisket?” Dean asks at the doorway, juggling a few bags of food.

“As long as you got something green to go along with it, yeah, bring on the meat,” Sam answers, moving his laptop out of the way of the food.

“Course I did princess, do I ever forget?”

Dean starts unpacking the big bag that’s soaking through with the steam and grease on the bottom, two containers contain the brisket and potatoes, a separate one has one of the best green salads Sam’s seen in weeks. He always forgets how much better the salads get the closer to the coasts you go. In his mostly diner-going experience, the Midwest does some great food, but salads, not so much.

“I’ve found it, if you like it, we just have to pick what colors we want it done in.”  Sam pulls a plate over to himself and hands over the printout with the small interlocking design on it.

“That’s really cool, what is it?”  Dean asks, turning the paper around in all directions.

“It’s an endless or eternal knot, Tibetan. Read the explanation on there.  I think we should each pick a different color.  The outside of my tat would be green for example, and the inside of yours would be green. And mine would have your color on the inside, and your color would be on the outside of yours.”

Dean reads the description on the paper: The endless knot or eternal knot (Devanagari: श्रीवत्स; Sanskrit: śrīvatsa; Tibetan: དཔལ་བེའུ "...the auspicious mark represented by a curled noose emblematical of love...” Moreover, it represents the intertwining of wisdom and compassion, the mutual dependence of religious doctrine and secular affairs, the union of wisdom and method, the inseparability of emptiness and dependent co-arising), and the union of wisdom and compassion in enlightenment. It is also symbolic of knot symbolism in linking ancestors and omnipresence and the magical ritual and meta-process of binding. This knot/net/web metaphor also conveys the Buddhist teaching of the Doctrine of Interpenetration;”

“Red,” Dean states with finality.

“So it’s okay with you then?”  Sam asks, rubbing over the inside of Dean’s wrist where the tattoo will go.

Dean finishes reading the description and looks up at Sam. “Yeah I told you to pick something, and I like it, the meaning of it works too, I see why you chose it.”

“Where we gonna get it done?”  Sam wonders whether his brother will want to do it right now in case Dean loses his nerve after all.

Reaching over to rub the inside of Sam’s wrist where his tattoo will be, Dean answers. “Leave that part of it to me alright?”


A couple more days go by as they drive east and then south taking them through some of the states they’re checking out for possible putting-down-roots places.  Dean refuses to think of it as settling down.  Because they won’t be if he has anything to say about it.  After they settle into their bed and breakfast bungalow in Cambridge, Maryland, he sends Sam out to get some dinner so that he can research tattoo places around the area, wanting to find one that does well with colored tattoos.  Turns out there’s a good spot not too far away in the main part of town, on the aptly named Main Street.  He calls and makes an appointment for that night, not wanting to delay this any longer.

Sam gets back with dinner, and sees the relieved look on Dean’s face.  It still breaks his heart a little every time, that Dean even thinks it a possibility that he wouldn’t come back.  He tries to smile reassuringly, but Dean just kind of scowls to brush it off, looking pissed that Sam noticed again.

It smells fishy which makes Dean instantly wary. “What’d you get?”

“Soft-shell crabs, all fried up in batter, and some garlic mashed potatoes.”

“No salad?”

“Yes of course, didn’t mention it since you’ll never eat it.  It’s got crab on it too though so you might want to rethink that tonight.”

Dean moves the laptop out of the way so that there’s room at the small table for all the food and with great restraint doesn’t make an answer or comment to that.  He doesn’t want to get into a fight about food tonight, not when he’s got something so good planned.  So Dean decides to ask a hopefully safe question. “What’re we drinking with all this?”

Looking up from the carry bag with a smile, Sam produces a bottle and a six-pack. “Got some wine and also a local microbrew that looked pretty good.”  He gets some glasses out of the bathroom for the wine and comes back to see Dean opening the wine bottle up quite handily with his Leatherman.

“I didn’t know you knew how to open wine like that.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Sammy,” Dean smiles, pouring a glass of wine for each of them.

“That so?” Sam mumbles through a much too big mouthful of crab.

Dean doesn’t answer, just smiles in what he hopes is an enigmatic way and tucks into his dinner, surprised at how good the crab is, he makes some yummy happy eating sounds that Sam laughs at.

“Glad you like it,” Sam says.

“Yeah, this is damn good, glad you picked it.  So uh, got any plans for later tonight?”

Sam cocks his head to one side in that way that never fails to make him look like a puppy. “No, not really, just looking at real estate stuff online while we’re here, why?”

“Got us an appointment for nine,” Dean says, looking at Sam with a steady gaze.

Sam reaches over and rubs over the slightly faded mark on Dean’s wrist, searching Dean’s face to confirm the appointment is for what he thinks it is. “Good.” Sam says quietly.

Dean clears his throat, sounding a little nervous and drinks the rest of his wine.


They finish their glasses of wine and have only one beer each before getting in the car for the short drive to the tattoo place, not wanting to be rejected for getting the tattoo done because of drunkenness.

“You sure this is a good place Dean?”  Sam asks a little hesitantly.

“Yeah, I checked it out, highest rated one around the whole area.  And before you ask, yes I have the artwork with me.  We’ll just have to choose the colors there.  You still going with green?” Dean answers looking over to see if Sam is possibly chickening out.

“Uh huh, you’re still getting red right?” Sam asks, looking back steadily in answer to Dean’s silent question No I am not chickening out and neither are you.

“Red is it baby.  Complementary color of green, so that’s what it’s gotta be,” Dean answers with a ridiculous wide grin.

Sam fights down the urge to resist being called baby. “I didn’t know you knew color theory Dean.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot you don’t know about me Sammy.” Dean just gives him that side-grin and leaves it at that.

The tattoo place is stuck behind a traditional ladies hair salon, as they pass through it past all the old-style hair dryer pods, Sam asks. “What, you’re not teasing me about getting a haircut? You feeling okay dude?”

“I’m fine, and so’s your damn hair.” Dean reaches up and tugs on the back of it hard, like he does when he’s riding Sam.

Before Sam can retaliate a tall, wide man, his neck and arms covered in tattoos calls them over to the back of the shop. “Come on in guys, I’m Eric.”

“Hey Eric, nice to meet you, I’m Dean, this is Sam and here’s our artwork.” Dean shakes his hand and passes him the printout with the design.

“Oh cool, an endless knot, I’ve done a few of these.  You got colors in mind?”  Eric asks.

“Yeah, mine is red on the outside, green on the inside, colors reversed on his,”  Dean answers efficiently, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice, this is a big deal, them marking themselves permanently like this, it means a lot more to him than he’s expressed to Sam.

“And if I remember right, you want them on the inside of your wrists? Same arms?”  Eric asks, looking back and forth between the two men standing before him.

“Yeah, on the right,”  Sam says, rubbing over the inside of his wrist where the tattoo will be soon, a little shiver runs through him at the thought of wearing Dean’s mark there, forever.

“Here’s the paperwork to fill out, waivers of liability, a little health info sheet, the standard stuff,” Eric says, handing them a clipboard with a pen.

Dean takes it without a word and starts filling it out.

“So, who’s going first?” Eric asks, wondering who out of the two of them is in charge of making this tattoo thing happen tonight.  Usually with couples it’s one of them that wants it more than the other.

“Me,” Sam answers, folding himself down onto the low bench, keeping his eyes fixed on Dean’s.

“Dean, you can sit back there in the salon waiting room, or pull up that stool if you want to hang out.” Eric says pointing at a rolling silver stool at the other side of the room.

Dean winks at Sam and retrieves the stool, rolling up to be on Sam’s left side. “I know you want me to hold your hand for this Sammy.”

Sam grins at him and squeezes his hand tightly.

Eric transfers the art quickly and outlines the endless knot design in black.  The pain isn’t as bad as Sam had thought it would be, not nearly as bad as when they got their chest tats done. Having Dean there, warming his left side is a familiar comfort.  They’ve gotten each other through a lot of physical pain, just by being there as support and witness.  When the colors start getting filled in though, with the green outlining the outer edge, Sam begins to feel larger inside, like he’d be big enough to cover and protect both he and Dean from anything.  This feeling intensifies until he could swear he’s seeing everything tinged green around himself and his brother, like they’re in a thin green bubble together.

Eric switches over to using Dean’s red then, filling in the center in that intense, yet complementary color.  Sam feels a warmth spreading from inside his heart, slowly spreading through his whole body. A red pulsing heat that infuses everything, the pulse beating in time with Dean’s that he can feel when he touches Dean’s wrist.  Right where his tattoo will be soon, over Sam’s bite mark, over the pulse of his body.  His still living, beating, breathing body, entirely miraculous after all these years.  The red, the heat, the love he feels is everything, there’s nothing else but this strong powerful overwhelming love.  And the red is Dean’s love for him, he realizes, Sam is overwhelmed and subsumed by it all.

He feels himself falling into Dean’s green eyes which never waver from his.  Dean leans over and kisses him gently on the forehead, brushing lightly past his lips just as the last of the red ink is drawn into his skin.  Eric bandages up Sam’s wrist, and stands up to stretch and shake out his hands.

“I’ll be right back with the second transfer.” Eric steps away back towards his desk, he can tell these two need a more private moment.  And his eyes are playing tricks on him, everything still looking a little green around the edges, he shakes his head and sips at his coffee, hoping it clears up.

Once the tattoo artist has stepped away, Sam pulls Dean back down towards him, needing more than the brushing kiss. Sam moans into Dean’s mouth and opens for him. Dean kisses him deeply and thoroughly, not caring that Eric might come back at any moment. Sam needs him right now, and he needs to show Sam that he’s not going anywhere.

“Okay, ready for you now Dean,” Eric says as he approaches, clearing his throat loudly, not really wanting to interrupt what he can tell after long experience must be a big moment for these two men.

Dean helps Sam sit up and trades places with him.  Eric begins cleaning off Dean’s wrist and sees the obvious bruised bite mark. The skin isn’t broken at all, but he usually doesn’t like to tattoo over bruises.

“Dean, this is probably going to hurt a lot more for you since you’ve got this bruise here. You still want to do it right now? We could wait until the bruise clears up?” Eric asks just to warn him, already knowing the answer.  Because of course with a tattoo like this, with two people so obviously in love as they are, getting tattooed in that particular place, especially when one of them has one of the most spectacular hickies in that spot that Eric’s ever seen is not going to want to wait.  He has a feeling that bruise has been there for a long, long time.

Dean grins up at him from the bench. “Naw, it’ll be good, I can take it, long as Sammy’s here.”

Sam reaches over and grabs Dean’s right hand. “You sure Dean? We can wait.”

“No way dude, this is happening tonight, it’s worth a little extra pain, believe me. Besides we both know it’s not going anywhere,” Dean says, smiling up at Sam, acknowledging that his near-permanent bruise wasn’t ever going to be allowed to fade and they both know that.  Especially now that Sam has his tattoo done.

Sam smiles and nods in answer, letting go of Dean’s right hand and twining his fingers into Dean’s left.

“Okay then, I’ll start,” Eric says, beginning the outline of the black endless knot.

Dean momentarily tenses up beneath him but slows his breathing and pulse in time with Sam’s.  He rubs his thumb around the edge of the bandage on Sam’s right wrist, soothing himself with the thought that Sam got through the pain and so can he.

When Eric begins filling in the red in the outline of the tattoo, Dean blinks his eyes several times, as Sam’s face is tinged red, he looks and sees that his body and Sam’s are all limned in a red glow that is pulsing in time with their synced heart-beats.  He feels so large, like he doesn’t fit inside his body anymore, like he could cover and protect both of them with no problem.  Dean widens his eyes and searches Sam’s face, did this happen to you too?   He silently asks Sam, who sees his question and nods, then mouthing exaggeratedly so Dean can’t miss it:  I Love You.

Eric is onto filling in his tattoo with green, Sam’s color and Dean begins to experience a cooling depthless feeling centered in his heart, it’s all-encompassing, there’s nothing but this feeling of love and respect and joy and admiration and thankfulness.  There’s no end to it, it’s everything. He realizes that this is what Sam feels for him, that he’s always harbored a worry that Sam would leave again or that he really should be with someone better, but now Dean knows, deep down in his own heart that Sam loves and needs him as completely as he needs Sam.  That ragged, gaping hole that’s been there since he came back from Hell is filled with green healing light, patching him up from the inside out. He allows Sam’s devotion and belief in him to repair the brokenness he’s been carrying around all this time.  He finally feels whole again, and It’s all because of Sam. This man, this brother, his lover, his partner, his everything.

Dean mouths the word Sammy, eyes filled with wonder and awe at the power of his brother’s love.  His Sammy smiles at him, seeing the tattoo is affecting Dean as much as it did him.  He mouths Dean and leans down to kiss his forehead in grace or benediction and the circle completes when their mouths touch in a heated kiss.  The last of the green ink going into Dean’s body as they give themselves over to the other completely, both murmuring the words everything, yours, love you, forever into each other’s lips.  They inhale the other’s words, taking them in and letting them take root in their newly connected hearts.

Eric looks up and sees the two men kissing on the bench and shakes his head at what he sees.  Both of them are tinted in a slight green, the same green that he’d just done on Dean’s wrist.  He must just be seeing things, staring at the colors all day.  He’s done with the bandaging and is bustling around, cleaning up for his next appointment which is soon, trying to discreetly let them know their time is up.  He can tell that this was more than just a set of matching tattoos for these men, the green seems to have faded, the air around them a very pale shade now. “You two are all set now.”

“Thanks man, these are perfect, just what we wanted,” Dean says, sitting up slowly with Sam’s help.

“You’re welcome, hey, can I take a picture of both of them for my portfolio?” Eric asks with a smile, he loves this part of his job when his customers are satisfied.

“Sure why not?” Sam answers, peeling off his bandage carefully. He puts his shiny ointment-covered wrist next to Dean’s while they wait for Eric to take a quick photo of their tattoos side-by-side.

“Hey if you’re around in a week after they’re healed come back, I’d love to photograph you for my wall art,” Eric asks, pointing over at the wall above his desk, where there are customer photos of all sorts of people grinning or trying to look tough, showing off their new tattoos.

“Not sure we’ll be around,” Sam says, brushing him off with the customary Winchester exit line.            

“Who knows though, we are house hunting,” Dean interjects, not really sure why he even said anything.

“Oh yeah? A friend of mine was just telling me that his neighbor’s foreclosure went through, you could pick that place up for a song I bet,” Eric says, always wanting to be helpful, especially for these guys who seem like they could use a little, even from a stranger that’s been part of such an intimate event in their lives.

“Huh, really?  Where is it?” Dean asks, always interested in a getting a good deal on something.

“It’s a waterside place, out on one of the smaller bays.  You want the address?” Eric asks.

“Sure, why not? Thanks Eric,” Dean answers.

The brothers look at each other as Eric goes over to his desk and rustles some papers around.  Sam asking a silent question, Dean shrugging it off gently.  Sam’s not sure if Dean’s taking the address just to be polite or what.  He helps Dean stand up slowly, holding him closely around the waist.  Dean leans into him, more than he ever usually does in public, and puts his own arm around Sam’s waist.  Joined together like this they walk over to Eric’s desk.

“Here you go guys, any real estate agent in town should be able to show you the place.  It’s real nice out there.” Eric says.

“Thanks man, for everything, these tattoos mean a lot to us and they turned out even better than how we imagined them.  You do real good work,” Dean says, handing over a stack of cash to pay the bill honestly for once, doesn’t seem right to put this on one of the credit cards.  Not for something this important.

“It was a pleasure, I don’t usually get to see couples clients like you two in here.  Usually it’s drunk couples that you know are going to regret getting each other’s names tattooed on their asses in the morning.  I can tell it’s different with you two.”

“No regrets here,” Sam says, speaking for both of them, Dean nods, smiling widely at both of them, pleased with himself that for once he’s not embarrassed at all that someone has acknowledged that they’re a couple.

“Oh, here’s the after-care sheet and some more ointment to use the next week,” Eric says, handing them a packet of ointment and a folded-over paper.

“Night Eric, thanks again,” Dean says over his shoulder as they walk out the door, arms around each other, walking in step.

Driving around Cambridge afterwards, they’re both a little dazed by what happened in the tattoo parlor.  There’s never going to be a way to explain it to themselves or anyone else, but they each know that it means the commitment they made to each other is a permanent one.  And that changes everything.

“You know I kind of like it here,” Dean says, breaking the silence.  But what he doesn’t say out loud is that he’s just realized that he wants them to stay right here, where they did this tattoo thing.  Call him sentimental or whatever, but Cambridge is now on the Dean Winchester List Of Life Changing Places, forever as far as he’s concerned.  And he’d rather not get too far away from this one, because it’s by far the happiest one.  Even happier than Madison, which he wouldn’t have thought possible. If he’s honest with himself he’s feeling selfish about that, wanting to keep the happy with them, not just drive away and see it in the rear-view mirror like everything else they’ve ever done together.

“What? You want to stay for the crab?” Sam asks with a little laugh.

“No, I just noticed all the houses have docks, and I thought it’d be fun to have a boat since we’ve gotta do something with all this money now,” Dean says.

“Dean, I didn’t even know that you liked boats.”

“Told you that you didn’t know everything about me,” Dean says, winking at Sam, knowing that will get him out of having to explain any more about his reasons for wanting to stay.  As much as they’ve shared with each other today, there’s so much more that Sam doesn’t know.  And maybe he’ll never tell him.  He thinks sarcastically to himself, Couples have to have some secrets from each other right?

“Well okay Mr. Mysterious, let’s go find a real estate person tomorrow and get them to show us the house Eric told us about,” Sam says, accepting his brother’s weird behavior as just one more mark in the book of things he’s going to spend the rest of their life together trying to figure out.  There’s got to be more of a reason than a sudden desire to have a boat that makes Dean want to stay here.

“Cool,” Dean answers, relieved that his brother seems to have let him off the hook for a further explanation.

Sam sees his brother’s relief at having the questions stop and suddenly gets it, Dean wants to stay because this is where their joining happened.  In their lives of impermanence and horrific occasions, this is the one place he’d actually want to remember, and to maybe not even leave. He decides to say it out loud since he knows Dean would never be able to. “Yeah, it’d be cool if we ended up living here since this is where we got inked, I don’t ever want to forget this is the place where we gave ourselves to each other.”

Dean punches him in the shoulder, as expected.  But he smiles too, a relieved and happy smile that tells Sam he figured Dean’s reason out and that it was the right thing to state it so baldly like that.

That night they lie down together for the first time as a committed couple.  As two people who have joined themselves officially or at least as officially as they’ll ever be able to without a whole lot of fraud and forgery.  They don’t speak as they remove each other’s clothing, just talking with their hands and bodies, yes you’re mine now, and I’m yours,  the sex isn’t anything wild or unusual for them, but afterwards when they’re still wrapped up together in the afterglow, that’s where they discover that everything is different now.  They can’t seem to break away from each other, lying there face to face, eyes locked together.

“I feel like I could look at you all night,” Sam finally whispers. “Why do you look so different to me now?”

“Same here, it’s kinda weird Sammy,” Dean admits.

“When we were getting the tattoos, did you, uh see anything unusual?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I thought I did, you?”

“Mostly just color, it was like I was outside myself and I could see the two of us in a bubble of green, I felt like, I don’t know how to explain it, but larger somehow, like I could cover both of us,” Sam says, a little worried that Dean doesn’t really want to talk about this, but he needs to know that it wasn’t just him.

“I saw something like that, but I saw us in red, felt like I was bigger too, like I could be a big shield for both of us, protect us from anything.  It was when he was inking my colored outline,” Dean answers, finally glad to be able to voice what he saw and felt to the only person who’d ever be able to understand.

“Weird, I guess I’m glad you felt it too. When he put your color on me, I felt something really warm centered in my heart, all this emotion filled me up, it kind of felt like it was coming from you. Did it happen to you too?”

“Uh, yeah, it felt like you were filling up all the empty places in there. In me,” Dean says.

“You think he put a spell on us or something?” Sam asks.

“Naw, it didn’t feel like something coming from him, felt like it just was between you and me,” Dean answers.

“Yeah, you’re right.  That’s what it was all about, you and me.  I feel different now, deep inside, about us. Maybe it’s something to do with the soul-mates thing, like now that we’ve chosen to make this commitment to each other.  I don’t know, I’m rambling,” Sam says.

“No, it’s okay, I think you’re onto something there.  I feel it too, I feel really different inside.  Like I said, when he put the green ink on me, it’s like everything that was broken in me feels whole now.”

“Dean, I’m really glad we did this tonight.”

“Me too Sammy, me too.”

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, secure in the knowledge that from this night onwards they’re safe together in the shelter of the other’s body, rooted in the other’s soul, beating in the other’s heart.

Part 4