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In the Pines

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It was a cold winter morning, one of those winter mornings that was absolutely unbearable due to the of the lack of snow and the endless blank sky that was so thick and dismal not even a crack of sunlight dared to peek through.  The Winchester brothers were settled in a motel room just south of shoot-me-if-I-ever-have-to-live here Nebraska. It was the kind of town the brothers were all too familiar with. It had bar and an adult toy store surrounded by endless corn and cows, because apparently the only thing to do here was farm and fuck. Sam sipped delicately at his coffee, which was probably day old and only made bearable by a lot of flavored creamer and sugar. They had just finished up a salt and burn outside of town. The old dilapidated building could barely be called a house for its lack of structural integrity and the owners decided it’d be better to to build a new one on their 200-something acres than to try and save the old one. Since there was only one cemetery in a 50 mile radius, finding the bones of the ghost hadn't been much of a problem. Sam was currently looking for a new case, in somewhere much warmer, while Dean snored peacefully one of the twin beds. Sam huffed out a laugh as Dean let out a particularly loud snort. The older Winchester was probably still tired from his time with Brandy (or whatever her name was) and the eager way she had eyed Dean last night made Sam think not many good looking 20 something year olds passed through this town. Brandy had probably taken full advantage of the rare opportunity. Dean rolled over onto his back, peeling his eyes open and immediately buried his face back into his pillow. “Shut the fuckin’ window Sammy” he grumbled before pulling the covers over his head “that light should be illegal”. Sam rolled his eyes from behind his laptop, “Dean it’s not even sunny out, and I’m not shutting the window. It’s time you got up.” Dean grumbled again before rolling out of bed and running his fingers through his ridiculous bed head. It was all Sam could do not to burst out laughing at Dean’s usually well kept hair sticking up in a million different directions. Dean mumbled something about his little brother being a bitch before retreating to the bathroom. 

20 minutes later, Dean was sitting across the table from a disgruntled Sam who had his cell phone gripped so tightly Dean thought he might crush it. “Yeah, ok” Sam sighed “Yessir we’ll take a look at it.” Sam hung up the phone and slammed his head down on the table. “Dad find us a case?” Dean questioned innocently. Sam glared at him “As if you didn't already know, Jerk. He said, and I quote” Sam paused a moment before continuing in a bad imitation of his father’s voice “Dean called and said you finished up that salt ’n burn last night”. Dean smiled “Sorry?” Sam grumbled, “Whatever, lets just go. At least it’s someplace warm.” 

 

It was midday when they pulled up to Heartwood Retreat Center. Sam had complained the entire drive about knowing nothing about what was even going on here, and how long of a drive this was, and how he fucking hated dad for making them do ‘dumb shit’ like this. Dean had pulled into a gas station shortly after a twenty minute rant and bought Sam a white tea (it sounded healthy)  and some Benadryl. In an hour Sam was fast asleep and Dean didn't really feel all that guilty about sorta drugging his brother. As they chose a spot in the parking lot (Dean didn't want sap messing up baby’s paint job from the damn pine trees) Dean, unsurprisingly, grumbled at the excess of ‘hippie shit’ (namely prayer flags and a Prius with a ‘Go Vegan!’ bumper sticker) until he saw a blond woman in yoga shorts and shut up. Sam just rolled his eyes at his older brother and resumed looking out the window. It really was beautiful out here, completely surrounded by massive redwoods, covered in moss and bright lichens. The very smell of the forest was enough to completely transport Sam back to his Stanford days. He had gone up here a few times during his college years, both with Jess and a couple of friends. They camped just outside of Santa Cruz, in a small town called Felton that Jessica immediately fell in love with. After their second trip to the redwoods, where he and Jessica stayed in a cozy little cabin nestled in the forest, Sam even thought of buying a house up here. Maybe a little summer home where he and Jess could bring there kids up to hike and play in the woods. He sat reminiscing about his college days and beautiful girlfriend until noticing a sign across the parking lot. 

“Dean?” Dean stopped complaining about pine needles and looked at his brother “Everything ok Sammy?” Yeah, there might be a slight problem, “It’s couples weekend.” Dean looked at him as if he was speaking Latin and got out of the now parked car “Huh?”. Sam sighed “couples weekend, Dean. As in, you can’t get in unless you're a couple” he said, gesturing to the sign at the entrance. “Fuck” Dean swore and then quieted for a moment, thinking “Ok then, we go in as a couple.” Sam looked at his macho brother before opening and then closing his mouth repeatedly “NO!.” Dean shrugged “Why not?”. Sam just stared as his older brother, who was actually asking him why they couldn't pretend to be a gay couple in order to gank a bloodthirsty monster. God his life was weird. “Because Dean, it’s fucking weird- that’s why! a- and….” Sam was at a lost for words after that. Dean reached in the back and grabbed his duffel “Look Sammy, the only people who go to these retreats are couples who's relationships are falling apart. They probably won’t even be expecting us to… touch.” Sam gaped at his older brother, still at a loss for words. “Look Sammy, people are dying…and I’m sure dad has a good reason for us to be here so grab your shit and let’s go.” Of course. Dad wanted them to be here, and Dean would never let Dad down. Sam grabbed his bag and brushed past Dean before glancing back at him with a fake smile, “You coming, sweetheart?”

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Check-in could have been worse. Turns out, the guy who got them their room was also gay and spent...well enough time to make Dean very uncomfortable, fawning over them. The brothers got a few other odd looks as they made their way down the cheery yellow hallway, but that was probably because of the way they were dressed. Dean had blood spatters on his jeans, and Sam was just noticing how worn and dirty his flannel and army jacket were. Sam also thought one lady might have caught a glimpse of Dean's gun, sticking out from the holster at his waist. As they passed, he made sure to give her a deadly look and prayed she wouldn't get them kicked out before they could gank whatever was killing people. All in all, things were going smoothly, until……..
"Sam?" Sam turned around, wondering who the hell he knew up here. Then he saw the blonde man with curly hair, who had a tall brunette attached to his arm. Blake and Sarah. They had all gone up here before, when Jess was still alive. Sam had no idea what to do as Blake and Sarah approached him and Dean. How was he supposed to explain this again? 'Oh hey guys! So my girlfriend died, then I disappeared for a year and now here I am with my lover (who has the same name as my brother! How funny is that?) at a couples retreat. Sam had half a mind to just run to the Impala and drive away from here forever, leaving behind the memories of Jess and camping without guns and constant fear. Instead he put on his most charming smile and brought his hand up in a little wave. Inside his head, Sam saw himself greeting Blake and Sarah, hugging them, introducing Dean, asking them out for drinks later and parting with lots of laughter and happy smiles all around. Apparently, reality was not so kind. "Uh.. hey! Blake, Sarah" Sam mumbled, almost afraid to look at the people he once called friends. "How've you been man, long time no see..." Sam could tell Blake wanted to ask more, but he was quickly cut off by Dean. "Sammy, aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" Dean asked, slinging an arm around Sam's shoulders and pulling him closer. "Yeah, uh.. this is Blake and Sarah. My friends from Stanford." Dean's glanced at Sam with what looked like pity before turning back to the couple. "I'm Sam's boyfriend, Dean" Blake looked confused and Sarah seemed a taken aback by the declaration. If they had stayed there longer, Blake might have asked Sam where he'd been or if he had just realized he was gay or had always been bisexual. As it was, Dean came to the rescue, "It was nice meeting you, but we have to get going now." he said with a polite smile, before grabbing Sam's arm and hurrying him down the hallway.

“fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Fuck!” Sam muttered, pacing around the small room. Dean was flopped down on the fluffy white bed, drinking from one of the flasks they usually used to carry holy water. “Dude, chill. We’ll just gank whatever’s botherin’ these people and hit the road. No need to get your panties in a twist..” Sam sighed, exasperated. “Dean, what are these people going to think? They used to be my friends for christ sakes!” Sam stopped pacing and turned towards Dean, his eyes widened in fear. “What if they want to eat with us?”he whispered, obviously horrified by the very idea of Dean going anywhere near his fancy-ass college friends. “You know what Sam,” Dean started, getting off the bed and walking towards his brother. “Are you ashamed of me or something? Cause I don't know what your deal is, but I think I can make it through dinner without totally embarrassing you. I mean I know these people may be…” Dean paused dramatically “..College educated. But I think I can hold my own in a conversation with some spoiled rich brats from LA.” Sam stared at his brother who looked….hurt. And Dean was hurt. His brother was too good for him, and yes- Dean realized how messed up that sounded, but it was true. Too good for hunting, and too good for Dean. He left Dean, left for college and Dean would be damned if that didn't hurt like a bitch. Now he couldn't even bear to introduce Dean to his friends, and somehow that hurt even more. Like Sam was just trying to push Dean out of his life bit by bit.”Dean I didn't mean it like——-” Dean scoffed, “Then how did you mean it Sam? Whatever-” Dean pushed past his brother and swung the door to their room open with unneeded force.,“-I’m going out for a drink.” Sam didn't bother to tell his brother they weren't supposed to leave before flopping down face first on the bed. He could still smell Dean- leather, motor oil and a hint of what could only be described as Dean; rain, leather and internalized angst.

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Bartenders. The confidants of divorcees, unsuspecting fathers, the freshly unemployed… and hunters. If Dean had a dollar for every time he’d gotten drunk and spilled his guts to a bartender- well, he’d have about four dollars. One for the time he almost got Sam killed on a hunt, another for the time Sam didn't want Dean to drop him off at school anymore (Because apparently Sam was ‘to cool’ to be seen with his doting older brother), then again when Sam left for college, and now. As Dean thought of each time he’d drunk himself into a stupor and confided in a friendly bartender, he noticed a disturbing pattern. All were because of Sam. Dean took another swig of his whiskey and turned towards Bill, who was eyeing him suspiciously. Bill grabbed his rag and started to move closer to Dean, “You, ok there champ?” Bill questioned gruffly, furrowing his eyebrows at Dean. Before he knew it, Dean was a blubbering mess at the counter. He blamed the whiskey. “Took care of ‘m my whole life ya know?” Dean sniffed, rubbing his nose and knocking back the rest of his whiskey. Bill was looking at Dean like he was some kind of psycho. “Hey man, that’s a real bummer, but… Do you have someone you can call.” Dean let out another sob “I just…why does he hate me so much?” Dean looked up at Bill, as if the man had the answer to all his problems, which sadly, Bill did not. Bill sighed at the puppy eyed 20 something year old with red rimmed eyes and the face of a god. “Ok, anyone else I would kick out right here and now… but I’m feeling generous tonight.” ‘That and one of my employees should have cut you off ten drinks ago’ Bill thought and rubbed his hands over his face “I’m going to get you some coffee, and you're going to sit here until you’re sober enough to call someone. Got it?” Dean nodded and flopped his head down on the counter before mumbling out something that sounded a lot like ‘Thanks Sammy.’

Sam was heading down to dinner alone, trying to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of questions Blake and Sarah were probably going to ask him. It really didn't help that he’d pissed of his ‘boyfriend’ making it look like he had some serious relationship issues. Which he did, just… with his brother. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and sighed at the caller id before answering. The rough voice of John Winchester coughed a muffled hello, and asked Sam where the hell Dean was. “He ain’t picking up his phone, Sam. He with you?” Sam sighed again, and apparently John heard this time “You two get into it, or something. We don't need family drama on a hunt, Sam.” Sam huffed angrily before responding “Look, Dean just went out for a drink. His phone probably just ran out of batteries. I’ll tell him to get in touch with you when he gets back.” With that, Sam hung up the phone and turned around in the hallway, only to run into Blake. As if this night couldn't get any worse. “Hey Sam! Didn’t see you there. You and Dean coming down for dinner?” Sam was suddenly struck with a very, very bad idea.

Asking Blake to drive him to pick up his brother from the nearest bar had seemed like a logical course of action. Dean was missing, John was pissed, and Sam had no way to reach his brother, who was not picking up his phone. Sam really should’ve just walked. Blake glanced over at Sam from the drivers seat of his Volvo, “Man, I gotta say, it is just so surreal running into you here!” Sam grunted in acknowledgement, not really sure how to respond. Apparently, Blake wasn't done, “And with a guy no less!” The car remind silent for a few moments for Blake spoke again, “You know,” he began tentatively “we were all really worried about you after you disappeared. I mean, Jess’ sister- you know, Alice, must’ve called you every day for a week after you left. We all figured you’d died, committed suicide or gotten killed with that crazy brother of yours.” Sam flinched at the mention of Alice. She hadn't just called every day for a week, but once a week for months after Jess’ death. “I-I’m sorry.” Sam mumbled “I just, needed some space after…you know” Sam spoke the last part softly, not wanting to have to acknowledge Jessica’s passing. “Hey man, I get it. It was hard for all of us though, and” Blake paused for a moment, contemplating his next words “We were there for you man. Sarah and I, Alice, John, Mark, Bailey. We still are if you ever need us.” Sam turned to Blake as they pulled up to one of the grungiest dives Sam had ever laid eyes on. “Thanks, that means a lot. Sorry for not keeping in touch ya know..” Sam trailed off, not really knowing what else to say (that seemed to be happening a lot lately). Sam and Blake exited the car, “So, when are you coming back to school?” Sam stilled. When Dean had first dragged him off to go find dad, Sam had always thought hunting with his brother would be temporary. Now that they had found Dad though, there wasn't really any reason for him to stay in the life. John Winchester was avenging Mary and Jess’ killer and Dean was…..Dean. Sam still had a chance, to go back to law school, maybe get married someday, have kids. His brother might visit on holidays, when Sam’s kids were older so he wouldn't tell them Santa wasn't real. John might stop by occasionally to see his grandchildren, but other than that he’d be just as absent a grandfather as he once was a father. Sam let his mind fill with images of law degree, a faceless family, and a cabin in the Redwood’s before responding. “I don’t know.” But although Sam couldn't admit it- not even to himself, he did know. He knew that he would never go back to Stanford, because he could never leave Dean, not again.

They found Dean face down at the bar; passed out, drunk. The bartender, whose name tag said ‘Bill’ kept glaring at Sam as they tried to wake up Dean. “You his brother?” Bill asked, after Sam and Blake failed yet again to wake up Dean. Sam practically choked on air “W-what? No!” Blake chimed in helpfully while Sam fought to regain his breathing “That’s his boyfriend actually” he said, gesturing to the snoring lump that was Dean. Bill grunted in acknowledgement “Kept saying something about a brother, Sam or something” Blake gave Bill a disbelieving look and Sam wanted to find whatever monster they were hunting and sacrifice himself to it. Instead, Sam tried to come up with and explanation as to why his brother had the same name as his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s brother had the same name as him. “That’d be Samuel, Dean’s brother” Sam laughed, “They argue a lot.” Bill seemed a bit suspicious of that, but to be honest, the man just seemed like the suspicious type. “Well, that must be awkward at family gatherings” Blake laughed, thankfully oblivious to Sam’s uncomfortableness, which would've been a dead giveaway to anyone more observant and over then age of six. Blake always had been bad at picking up on peoples emotions. Sarah had flirted shamelessly with him for months before giving up and asking him out, and when she did Blake was incredibly surprised and had no idea she was into him. Sam laughed too, though more out of relief than amusement. Moments later, Dean decided to grace them with his consciousness. “Sammayyyyy” he slurred, reaching an arm out to Sam and pulling him down to eye level. “Don’t leave me Sammy” Dean murmured, stroking his brothers cheek “I love you” Dean pulled Sam even closer to him, losing his serious composure and breaking out into a happy grin “You’re so cute” and with that, Dean lay his head back down on the bar and passed out again. It was with great effort that they finally drug Dean out of the bar that night.

Dean woke up with a pounding headache and a very fuzzy, yet extremely disturbing recollection of had happened last night. “Fuck” Dean swore, and shuddered at the horrible taste in his mouth. That’s what getting blackout drunk and not brushing your teeth does to you, kids. Obviously, Dean had been possessed, or suffered temporary insanity because never, ever would he have acted like that if he was sane. Maybe after all these years, Dean had finally gone off his rocker. Groaning, he tried to piece together what had happened last night. Sammy was upset about possible interaction with those people, his Stanford friends. Dean got pissed and stormed off. He met Josh. Josh may or may not have been trying to take Dean home with him. Josh gave Dean an entire bottle of whiskey, glass by glass. Bill stepped in. Dean sobbed in front of Bill. Bill let Dean sit at the bar. Sam came and got Dean. Dean said some super embarrassing shit. He also might have told Sam he loved him, and Dean was absolutely not going to analyze that right now. They were still supposed to be hunting a monster, which in the midst of his small temper tantrum Dean had forgotten about. Dean groaned louder and tried to bury himself into the pillows in an attempt to avoid the world. Apparently, the eldest Winchester’s plans to hide until dinner and then pretend like nothing had happened were thwarted a half hour by an alarm he definitely did not set. Swearing once again, Dean hit the snooze button and tossed off the covers, shielding his eyes from the evil fucking sunlight. It was going to be a long day.

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After brushing his teeth three times and blasting ‘Master of Puppets’ through the headphones Sam had picked up at a gas station, Dean was ready to kill a fucking monster and get the hell out of Cali. Tossing on one of his nicer flannels, Dean dialed his father to get the details on the case. John picked up on the third ring, “Dean” he growled, “where the hell’ve you been?” Dean winced, he wasn't used to John being angry with him. “Just out for a few drinks last night dad” Dean mumbled, and John grunted in disbelief “there’ll be plenty of time for chasing skirts later son, right now I want to give you and Sam the details of the case. Sam there with you?” Dean winced at that. “Nah, he’s grabbing breakfast” Dean said, trying to sound nonchalant and not like he was avoiding his younger brother until he could tuck away every last emotion regarding Sam Winchester. On the other line, John could be heard rustling around what Dean assumed were notes about the case “Well here’s the deal; my friend Jean’s been running this place since the 90’s. She called a few days ago and said that 4 people- 2 couples have gone missing. Police found ‘em days later with there hearts and livers all missing, dressed in all black, face up in a clearing in the forest. The bodies weren't even rotting in the heat, preserved somehow- although the coroner couldn't seem to figure out how.” John paused, waiting for Dean’s response. Dean was speechless for a moment “You know someone here?” he asked, as calmly as possible. John sighed, “Yes Dean, I’ve known——” Dean abruptly cut his father off “Is she expecting us?” once again, the eldest Winchester brother was trying to remain calm. If one of his Dad’s friends saw Sam and Dean pretending to be a couple, this whole thing would turn into an even bigger mess than it already was. “I told her I had people on it, don’t bother her unless you have to.” John deadpanned. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, and got out the first syllable of “goodbye sir” before John hung up on him. Going undercover was probably the best option anyways right? I mean, it wasn't like Dean wanted to pretend to date his brother. No, he definitely did not want to pretend to date his brother. That’s what Dean kept telling himself the entire walk to the dining hall.

Sam was already sitting at a table with Blake and Sarah when Dean entered the dining hall. At first, Dean didn't even recognize his brother and Dean must be losing it because he was pretty sure Sam had his hair in a ponytail. Dean took a deep breath and shook his head. They had a case to solve and he was not going to caught up on his brothers fashion sense. Sam met Dean’s eyes from across the cafeteria and rolled his eyes at Dean who was probably standing there with a dumb ass expression on his face. Sam got up and and dumped his tray before making his way over to Dean, before grabbing his wrist and tugging him out into the hallway. “Dean!” Sam snapped, folding his arms over his chest like he used to do when he was a teenager. “We need to talk about last night” there they were, the words Dean had been dreading the whole morning. Damn Sam and his touchy feely crap. “What about it bro? I got a little tipsy. My alcohol tolerance isn't what it used to be you know” Sam rolled his eyes “Dean your alcohol tolerance goes—-” Dean, sensing a smart-ass Sam lecture approaching, interrupted his brother “I talked to Dad about the case this morning. Come on, I’ll give you the details in our room. Just let me grab some coffee and bacon” Dean smirked “Give you a chance to freshen up and fix your ponytail, princess”. Behind him, Dean was 110 percent sure Sam scowled.

Sam was so frustrated. Actually, frustrated was an understatement. At this point he was genuinely pissed at Dean. All morning, Sam had been trying to get Dean to explain his erratic behavior with one of two results: Dean teasing Sam about his ponytail or Dean insisting he had to do research on the case. Dean never insisted on doing research for a case. The latter part of Sam’s day had been spent at with the coroner, going over the same thing that John had already told Dean- bodies mysteriously preserved, liver and heart missing. Sarah had just texted and invited Sam and Dean down to a “relationship strengthening session” which Sam hoped would do just that for the brothers, or at least get Dean to talk about his feelings. Sam threw open the door to their room, “Dean! Stop looking at porn and get your clothes on, we have to be at the tranquility lodge in fifteen minutes” Dean jolted up from where he had been sleeping at the small computer desk smushed between the bed and the wall. “Did you get a lead?” Dean mumbled, yawning. “Sort of” Sam said, slipping on a pair of Jeans and a relatively clean t-shirt. “Come on!” called Sam as he bounced out the door, “relationship strengthening waits for no man!” right before he shut the door, Sam was pretty sure he heard Dean mutter something along the lines of ‘oh fuck no.’

“I thought you said you had a lead” grumbled Dean as they took their seats in the circle of plastic folding chairs next to Blake and Sarah. Sam sighed “I spent the entire day getting no where fast, so at this point, making friends and trying to get info from the couples is all we have”. Dean grumbled incoherently, and sulked down into his chair. An older woman, with soft looking gray hair and lots of crystal jewelry stepped into the circle, “welcome lovers” she said, and her voice was so soft and lilting it was almost as if she were singing the words rather than speaking them. “My name is Clara and today I am going to show you the power of touch” Sam’s eyes widened a little and he wondered just what he had gotten them into. Clara paused dramatically before continuing “Physical love is very important in all kinds of relationships, especially romantic ones. From a simple hug or kiss to sex, we express our love through touch. Today we will be practicing positive, loving touches and hopefully by the end of this session, you will realize how important they are.” Dean looked as if he might pass out, and Sam was kind of regretting this. “Are there any questions before we start?” ‘Yes’, Sam thought, ‘How am I supposed to romantically touch my brother without it being super weird? Also, how did I get myself into this?’. “Wonderful!” Clara began after it became obvious no one had any questions “Now to start, I’d like the couples to face each other in their chairs” Sam and Dean both spun their chairs around, and Dean was so pale he would probably blend into the motel bedsheets they usually slept on. “Firstly, I’d like you to simply lay your hands on one another's legs. One at a time. Feel the other person, caress them, pour all of your love into that touch.” Dean could not fucking believe what he was doing, slowly he reached out and put his hand on Sam’s thigh. Just a normal, brotherly gesture. Slapping your bro’s thigh. Nothing weird about it at all. Sam just kind of stared at Dean for a moment, then awkwardly averted his eyes. It wasn't until Clara made her way over to their section of the circle that Sam stopped staring at the carpet. She shook her head at Dean and took his hand “Love him, touch him, feel him. Rub your hand up and down his thigh now, remember and happy moment where the two of you were so in love you could barely breathe, and put all of that energy into the touch” Clara looked at Dean expectantly. Hesitantly, the eldest Winchester brother rubbed Sam’s leg, as if to warm his skin. “Caress, darling” coaxed Clara, waiting patiently for Dean to get it right. Dean ran his hand along Sam’s leg, maybe if he just played along this crazy woman would leave them the hell alone. He thought of all the times he and Sam had sung along to classic rock and how he carried Sam to bed when he was little and would fall asleep on the couch, watching Dean’s favorite television shows. As Dean was running his thumb across the top of Sam’s leg, he was struck with the sudden realization that Sam had really good thighs. Uh-oh. That was not normal. Dean quickly pulled his hand back and coughed awkwardly. While Dean had been taking a trip down memory lane, Clara had moved to the other side of the circle and was attempting to get another couple to turn around and look at each other. Dammit, Dean should thought about pulling that before this whole thing got awkward. “Ok, the next thing I want you to do is to love each other’s faces. This is the face of the person you fell in love with, treat it with respect and care as if it were a fine gem, for it is far more valuable than anything money can buy.” Dean looked around the room to see how the other couples were ‘loving each other’s faces’. He hesitated briefly and then reached out, holding Sam’s face in one of his calloused palms and running his thumb over a scar on one of Sam’s cheekbones. God, Dean had never realized how many scars his little brother had. Scars that were because of him, because of the life they led. Scars that would proliferate because Dean had dragged Sam away from college, dragged him away from a normal life. Before he could stop them, tears were falling from Dean’s eyes and, oh shit, Dean really needed to get it together before he started actually crying. “Now if you're ready, I want you to lean forward and kiss your partner” Before Dean knew what was happening, Sam was leaning forward, and for a split second his lips were on Dean’s. It was a kiss like they ones they used to share as kids, sweet, innocent and gentle. And then again, it really wasn’t.