He'd reacted without thought. The act of violence should have eased some of the pain and cold in his chest, but it didn't. His mind, already saturated with the grief of his father's death, now carried the burden of knowledge that he'd intentionally hurt Sammy twice in only a matter of days. He knew Sammy was watching him. He'd felt his eyes on him the way he always did when his brother was around. He felt as if he was bleeding inside. Bleeding some emotional, bloodlike substance that could only be stopped with the help of one person, but Dean couldn't bear to seek him out. He was too angry. Angry at his father for leaving him again… this time forever; angry that the last words spoken to him had been about Sammy - always Sammy - ripping him in two, leaving the halves to battle one another, conflicted.

The jealousy over the way Sammy always seemed to be the most important thing in their live. This was despite the fact that at times (mostly long lonely nights while they'd been separated by a quest for normalcy) Dean questioned if Sammy even gave a damn about them, warred with his instinctual, almost compulsive need to make sure his little brother was safe. His need to be free of all the ugliness he'd held inside since that night when he was 4 and watched his house burn battled with his need to keep Sammy naive to all the pain he was carrying around. He knew somehow Sam would find a way to make it his fault - even this was conflicted as parts of himself argued as to how much of his pain really was Sammy's fault. Then there was the longing that had long ago burnt holes in his gut and soul. It was a longing for what he knew should feel unnatural but, for Dean, was no different than breathing. So far he'd managed to restrain himself using his father as his final fallback of sanity. He told himself that John would never forgive him if he gave into his primal urges to make Sammy his in every carnal fashion he could think of. However, now his father was gone there was nothing standing between him and the one person he would ever consider spending forever with, faithful in mind, body, and soul.

He'd spent nearly every day since he'd realized that just the sound of Sammy sleeping in the next bed was making him hard, trying to drown out the urges with an endless stream of loose women. He had even considered trying one of their own, but he'd known that Jo wouldn't ever really be able to fill the spots Sammy had claimed as his own within his big brother without even knowing it. In the end he would only be using her, as he had every other woman he'd touched for more years than he wanted to count. A voice in the back of his head told him that she was too good for that, the pain she'd already suffered was too great for that.

Finally Dean met Sammy's eyes and instantly wished he hadn't. The emotions crowding the tiny spaces were almost overpowering… each one, he discovered, seemed to be worse than the last. And then Sammy spoke softly, hesitantly, brokenly and Dean knew he was done for. "I can't lose you too, Dean. Sure, this crap you're holding inside may not physically kill you today - or even tomorrow - but slowly it'll eat at who you are. It will rob us both of you, change you into something… Well, it'll change you into Dad. I'll die if that happens, Dean, because if it does you might as well be dead."

"I love Dad, Dean. Death can't change that and I know you don't really believe it most of the time, but I did and I do. I will though be damned if I'll watch you kill all the good things you are in the name of being a goddamned soldier. You aren't in the fucking army, Dean; you're standing in a junk yard. You're not a robot, you're a man, flesh and blood, and if you don't let your pain out it will suffocate every damn beautiful thing you are. It'll take you from me forever. It'll take away the last hope I have. It'll rob me of the last dream I've been able to hold onto. It's the one dream that I've clutched tight against my chest since I realized my dick was for something other than pissing, love was for more than puppy dogs and goodnight hugs. Since I realized that it could mean something… deeper. Since I wondered if maybe brothers weren't just for wiping away tears and kissing skinned knees but could also be for kissing other things. Not to mention stroking and touching and needing so bad that you try to bury yourself in normal because that dream is all you have left and it's death would steal the last of your will."

"And really… what the hell will happen to me without you, Dean? I keep trying to pretend that some part of me isn't relieved that it was dad and not you. I know you won't ever understand that. I know that I probably just put a wedge between us that can never be removed, but it's true. The thing you never got was… you and I… we never saw dad the same way. Your childhood is filled with memories of him, Dean, but mine… mine is filled with you."

"You took away the hurt. You chased away the monsters. You soothed the tears. You were the parent that he, right or wrong, intentional or not, never was to me. The reason I could never share your blind faith in dad is… man, I didn't have it to give to him. I'd already given it to you. You're the one I would follow into hell, Dean. You're the one that…" Sam stopped and laughed painfully and humorlessly. "I guess that's really the core of it all. You're the one, Dean."

"And if you don't let me in I'll lose the only person I've ever had."

Dean wanted to respond, but he couldn't. Finally Sammy's shoulders sagged even further before he turned and walked away, heading back up the path to Bobby's house. When he was gone Dean felt even worse than he had before because suddenly he understood what he never had before. He had the explanation behind the endless fighting and the whys of Sam's inability to just follow his father's orders. The realization that his need for Sammy in the way that brothers aren't supposed to need each other was not unrequited almost brought him to his knees. The absolute starvation for affection and the belief that no one would ever realize it only to discover that all along Sam had the cure for it nearly killed him. Every day, every step, every wasted moment rushed over him.il He found himself curling up against the back bumper of the Impala clutching it as if it was his last link to reality. He felt as everything around him had shattered in what seemed like some endless stream of explosions, breaking his heart and soul until he was sure they were unfixable.

He knew he'd never survive it. He needed Sammy there more than he'd ever needed him in his life, but there was no hope for that. Once more he'd pushed Sammy away and his brother had left. It seemed as if he always waited a second too long to fall apart, robbing himself of his brother's comfort by waiting until the sight of his back was long gone before he broke.

Except then suddenly he wasn't. Strong Sammy arms wrapped themselves around him pulling him into the safety of his embrace and he was surrounded on all sides by the smells and the feel of His Sammy. "Dean you fool, do you really think I'd say all that and just leave? Stanford won't happen again. I won't ever walk away and leave you alone again. I really don't know what I'll do after we're done with all this; the school thing isn't just because of dad but… mostly because I don't think I could survive leaving you twice."

Later the words would sink in and mean something. Later their roles would reverse back to normal and Dean would be again the caregiver and Sammy the precious treasure to be protected. But for now, all he knew was Sammy was holding him. For the first time in his life he had possibilities beyond death and pain. And really, what more did he need ?

The End!