He's sure the trouble started midway through the first season, when Sam leaned in close to say something while Dean was near death. Yes, around the episode of "Faith". The concern was raw and heartbreaking in Sam's eyes and Sam smelled like gun oil, sweat and worry. That's when the trouble started and Kim called cut and he was brought back to the real world and there was just Jared smelling like candy, a huge smile on his face for a scene well done, thumping him on the back. Yeah, that's when Jensen first began to miss Sam in between takes.

It's more of a problem now, because there's something strange that happens whenever he's doing a scene with Jared. It's more evident now with the filming of the second season finale. When they do scenes together it's like Jared is possessed. He isn't Jared, his smell, his movements, the timber of his voice, it all shifts. He is Sam. That's not the gift of a good actor because an actor can't just change the way they smell in between real life and a take. That's not possible, but he knows that if he ever says any of this aloud, it will be admitting that he's crazy, because he just CANNOT have a thing for Sam Winchester. Mainly because Sam Winchester does NOT exist.

If he's honest with himself he can admit that Jared is a likeable guy. Hell, they are best friends, and Jared's all grabby, but that's as far as it goes. There is no behind the scenes fucking. They are just friends, and Jensen wouldn't want it any other way. Besides, Jared just isn't Sam. He can't even compare to Sam.

He hates that he feels this way, that he's fallen for another someone unattainable. But this one really takes the fucking cake. At least before it had been with straight guys. Like that Justin Hartley he met at a network party. The guy had been married with a kid for Christ's sakes, but Jensen had been smitten, and who could blame him really? Still, this is worse. So much worse. And it's killing him, just keeping it to himself. He has his secrets, prides himself on being able to keep so much hidden inside, but this is too much for him to keep to himself.

He sighs as Kim calls it a night. He heads on to his trailer, still shaking over the fact that Sam died. He knows that he would make the same deal that Dean had made. Oh yes, in a heartbeat. Anything to have Sam alive and well and real. He knows that he played Dean off as more of a mourning lover than a mourning brother, but seeing Sam so still, the blood so fresh. It didn't smell like the corn syrup, it was slick and then when it dried it was brown and flaky and smelled coppery and twisted the invisible knife lodged firmly in Jensen's gut. This episode is really getting to him.

He steps into his trailer, closes the door behind him and feels a cool breeze trace up his spine. He shivers and he swears that his breath fogs a little. Damn location in Vancouver freaking Canada. He grabs his knives from the table in front of the sofa and begins to throw them. He's a little off of his game. He feels something cold guide his arms into a better position and when he throws he hits the target dead center. He feels the cold pull back at the sound of a knock on his door, but a familiar scent lingers in the air, gun oil and sweat.

Jensen turns to the door and sighs a little as Jared steps inside, shutting the door behind him and blowing on his hands to warm them up. He raises a brow at Jensen, and Jensen wonders what it is that Jared is seeing. If he can see the truth written all over his face. Jared cocks his head to the side and then shrugs.

"Great take, dude. I swear you almost had me in tears. Where'd you learn to cry like that? I swear that was just amazing, and for a moment I really I felt the pain, like something was inside of me and just making my body go with it. Sometimes it's like I'm not even acting. And you. Dude! Always at the top of your game. S'what I love about working with you," Jared says, a huge grin on his face, and Jensen steels himself against the pain, because it's Jared's voice, not Sam's, and Sam hardly ever smiles so big like that, although Jensen would love to make Sam smile like that, just once, but he'll only ever do that as Dean.

Yeah, he really loved filming "Hell House" back when they were doing the prank wars. Sam had been so at ease. Jensen shakes the thought away as a shiver slips up his spine, cold phantom fingers slipping up the bones and tracing along his shoulder.

"Hey, Jen. You okay?" Jared asks.

"Yeah," Jensen replies. "I'm fine. Just thinking real hard."

"Well don't hurt yourself," Jared says with a bright laugh, and then adds, "So come on. Put on a coat and we'll go check out the bar. Chris is in town, right? That ought to cheer ya up some."

So that is how Jensen finds himself at the bar, sitting next to Chris while Jared goes to have a word with Tommy Welling. Jared was the one to call and tell Chris about meeting them up at the bar. Jensen smiles. Yeah, Jared can be real thoughtful when it counts, but he's still not Sam.

Jensen lets out a sigh then he feels a sharp elbow nudge his arm, and he turns to look at one of his closest and probably oldest friends in this town. Christian fucking Kane, redneck asshole extraordinaire, but loyal to a fault.

"Wanna tell me 'bout it Jenny? Cause I know you're pining, son. Ain't the kid, is it? Cause I know how you sometimes go for the unattainable," Chris says softly.

Jensen snorts out a laugh. "You have no fucking idea. I swear I'm really fucked this time, Chris. I mean, damn."

"Wanna go home and talk it out, cause he ain't too far off and you probably don't want him to hear this," Chris offers.

Jensen shivers against the cold pressed against his left shoulder and hovering against his back, and nods at Chris. He follows Chris out of the bar and they end up sitting in Jensen's truck, Chris behind the wheel. They aren't going anywhere, just have the heater turned on and they're sitting in silence, Chris waiting on Jensen to tell him how bad he's fucked.

"Am I gonna have to pull teeth? Cause I wore the good shirt tonight," Chris finally says to break the silence.

Jensen shakes his head and looks at Chris with a sad smile. "I'm a goner. I mean it's every day on set, the same thing, and the latest episode is gonna kill me, because… I… I can't watch him die. I can't fucking take holding him in my arms while he's dying and feeling him go cold and still in my arms, and then having that whole bedside vigil scene. It's fucking killing me."

Chris gives him a 'what the fuck' look, and says, "You know it's just a show. I mean I know you get wrapped up in your characters, but Jared doesn't really die."

"But Sam did," Jensen blurts and then covers his mouth, wondering where that came from.

Chris' eyes widen. "Son, you tryin' to tell me that… No. Please tell me this is some big fucking joke, and Jared's gonna come running out of the bar any second now with his pants on his head and his dick hangin' out."

Jensen swallows and can't meet Chris' eyes, because there is no punch line. Chris takes the silence as his answer and hisses through his teeth. "So, you've gone and fallen for a character in a show for a teeny bopper network? That's fucked, Jenny. Seriously fucked."

"You don't get it though. I mean when we do the scenes, it's not Jared playing Sam, it's really Sam. I mean Jared smells like candy and that fruity cologne he practically bathes in, but on set he smells like gun oil and sweat, and something else. It's not Jared. It's been like this since the first day on set, but it got really bad half way through the first season. I'm telling you, Sam is real. I don't know how but he is. And he takes over Jared when we film. I guess Jared opens himself to the role and Sam can just slip inside or something," Jensen says and then he's cut off when Chris holds his hands up and says, "Whoa. Are you even listening to yourself? You make it sound like Sam's a ghost. He isn't real, Jen. Never was. He's just someone Kripke made up. You need to get away as soon as hiatus comes up. You're really crackin' here, man."

Jensen is about to respond when his door is pulled open and two large hands grip his shirt and coat and then warm lips are pressed against his and he's surrounded by the smell of gun oil, sweat and Sam, and he's kissing him back. Because this is Sam and he knows it deep down in his gut. The cold finally gets to him and he hears Chris say, "Damn son! I knew this was some kind of joke."

Sam looks up and narrows his eyes on Chris and Jensen wants to pull Sam's face back down into another kiss, but Sam's not having it. "Fuck you, asshole. I'm real. Your friend's not crazy. If you'd just look me up or ask Kripke about the time he had gremlins fucking with his electricity you'd know that. He'll tell you about us," Sam growls and then he focuses back on Jensen and smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, Jensen. I don't have much time. He usually only lets me in during filming. You're amazing. You have Dean down to a science. I got lucky this time, that guy that plays Lex Luther got Jared to go for the worm in a bottle of Cuervo, he's coming back though."

"No," Jensen replies desperately, his fingers tightening in the collar of Jared's thick parka, but the Sam smell is already fading, and Jensen's heart is breaking a little, until he feels the cold press of phantom fingers on his left shoulder.

"Jensen?" Jared asks, his brow furrowing in confusion as he looks around. "How the fuck I get out here? Did Mike like do something to me?"

Jensen lets go of Jared's coat, takes in a breath to steel himself and shakes his head, before he opens the door to the extended cab and says, "Get in, because there's no way in hell I'm letting you drive home like this."

Jared complies, and those cold phantom fingers linger on Jensen's shoulder the entire ride back to his rented house, and every now and then he feels Chris' eyes on him, because Chris has to see that Jensen's not making this up. It's real, of that there is no doubt in Jensen's mind.

----------

They've finished the first scene and Kim calls for a break, and Kripke has just arrived to look after the finale of his baby. Jensen sees his chance and walks up to Kripke, grabs the man's shoulder and says, "Eric, we need to talk."

Kripke gives Jensen an odd look, but then nods and makes a gesture toward Jensen's trailer. Once inside, Jensen closes the door firmly behind them and watches as Kripke takes a seat on the sofa. Jensen paces and runs his hand through his hair, not caring if wardrobe bitches at him. Finally he stops and faces Kripke.

"Tell me about the Winchesters."

Kripke takes in a sharp breath and lets it out slowly. "As far as I know they're dead. Dean died first, saving Sam. Sam took care of Dean's burial and then he got killed down in Dallas, Texas. He was after a black dog or a hellhound or something. It happened a couple of weeks before we called you to read for us. Now, how about you tell me how you know they're real?"

Jensen swallows. "I'm not criticizing Jared's acting skills. I think he's amazing, but when we do a scene together, it's not Jared. I'm acting with Sam."

"What?" Kripke asks, surprise evident in his voice. "That's impossible. Bobby and Ellen handled Sam's burial themselves. There's no way he's around."

"But he is, Eric, and last night when Jared got drunk, Sam slipped in and kissed me."

"What? But he wouldn't. I mean you're a dead ringer for his brother Dean, no pun intended," Kripke replies.

"But he did. I know it wasn't Jared last night. The smell was all wrong. Sam always smells like gun oil and sweat. So you tell me I'm fucking crazy. Come on, Eric! Because I have to be, right? I mean, how is this even possible?" Jensen snaps.

Kripke shrugs and leans back into the sofa. "I don't know. I just know the Winchesters are dead, and their cut of the show I've split between Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle. Sometimes they help me with the details I need for the show. You know just little things. I don't know how Sam could linger like this. Unless, maybe he found you before you did the reading. Maybe when he died he ended up in L.A. He saw you, thought Dean, and chose to stay."

"Do you think there's a way to bring him back?" Jensen asks.

Kripke gives him a sharp look. "Why would you even want to do that?"

"He chose me. At least that's what it feels like, and you just… He's always around. I feel him watching me all the time, and I know he's there. Lately it's just these cold touches. It's kind of reassuring. You can't tell anyone. No one on set can know. Not even Jared. And when we're done filming you tell me how I can reach Bobby. I'm assuming he's the one with all the know how. Or Ellen if you can't swing Bobby."

"They won't help you, Jensen. The dead are better left that way."

"If they were, if he is, then why would he possess Jared and kiss me?" Jensen snarls, and honestly, Kripke can't answer that.

----------

It's a relief to sit down in the seat in first class. He lets the seat drop back and prepares for the flight to South Dakota. The seat next to his is empty, he reserved two seats on the flight and he can feel the cold reassurance of Sam against his left side.

Once they've landed Jensen rents a car, and follows the directions Kripke gave him. It takes him nearly four hours to find the salvage yard, but it's there. He drives through the gate, gets out of the car, and feels a firm grip of cold on his right shoulder as he approaches the door of the old, weather beaten house. He lifts his hand to knock on the door and the grip tightens.

He raps his knuckles against the door, hears movement inside and then he's pulled back by his shoulder just in time as the door is jerked open and a shotgun is leveled at his face. He swallows thickly and the gun is lowered to point at his chest as a man that looks remarkably like Jim Beaver just gapes at him.

"Holy Christ! Dean?"

Jensen shakes his head. "No. My name's Jensen Ackles. I'm an actor."

Bobby raises the gun to Jensen's face again. "You got two seconds to convince me not to blow your fool head off."

"Sam's with me," Jensen blurts, and the shotgun sags in the man's grip and he lifts his nose in the air and sniffs.

"Damn, ozone. There's something with you, that ain't no lie. You come inside and tell me how you heard of me and what you know of this Sam."

Five minutes later Jensen is sitting in Bobby Singer's kitchen, nursing a beer and telling Bobby about being haunted by Sam Winchester. Bobby still doesn't look too convinced. He's staring hard at Jensen and Jensen is starting to twitch under the scrutiny when all of a sudden Bobby takes a flask from his back pocket, twists the cap off, and slings water at him. The water lands on the crotch of his designer blue jeans, and Jensen stands up, his chair skittering backwards as he brushes at the water on his crotch and glares at the older man.

"What the fuck?"

The older man snickers. "Just had to make sure you weren't possessed."

"So now that we've established that I'm not possessed or crazy, how about we try to find some answers. Can we bring him back?" Jensen snaps.

Bobby narrows his eyes and gets to his feet. "And why would you want to go and do a damn fool thing like that? The dead are better left at rest, son. Now you best leave."

"He's not resting! He's possessing my co-star and kissing me. He's touching me and he won't leave me alone. And I don't want him to stop. I want him alive," Jensen says.

"It's all about what you want. What about what Sam wants?"

"He's the one following me around! Why don't you bring him back and ask him!"

"It ain't that easy!"

"You either help me or I'll find a crossroad. I know a demon can do it if I make a deal."

Bobby's eyes widen and his nostrils flare. "You're as big a damn fool as Dean Winchester! I swear that boy had a death wish. How you think he died? It was that deal he made! You wanna go the same way? You think Sam would want that?"

"But I'd still do it," Jensen says, his tone broaching no argument.

Bobby shakes his head and then sighs. "Fine. I'll help you. Not for you. For Sam. I'd know that smell of gun oil, sweat, and Winchester any day. Lord knows I've patched that boy up enough times to recognize his smell. We'll need blood. Not yours though. I'm guessing if you're from Kripke's show the kid playing Sam looks an awful lot like him, and Sam's possessing him, so they're connected. We'll need blood from him. When Sam's brought back they'll be kind of like brothers. You get his blood, and I'll help you do the rest. That sound fair?"

Jensen nods. "Yeah."

"And don't you go doin' no stupid shit like summoning demons. You get that blood and come straight back here," Bobby snaps, and then as an after thought he says, "Oh, and since Sam's riding shot gun, I got you a ride. I'll see that the rental gets taken back."

Jensen's eyes widen. "You don't mean…"

"She's out back beneath the cover. Got her old plate back and fresh rock tapes are still in the front seat. She's yours for now. Give Sam something familiar to stretch out in. I bet he's missed the old girl," Bobby replies and tosses Jensen a set of keys.

Jensen steps out of the back door and sees the only car with a cover on it. He approaches the car reverently, pulls the cover away and sucks in a breath. Sleek, black, chrome in all the right places. He runs his fingers along the hood and glances down at her plate. Kansas. KAZ 2Y5. Metallicar back in black, holy shit, and he gets to drive her. He opens the door, slips behind the wheel and lets his fingers slide along the dash. She's beautiful, everything the prop cars are not.

He notices the passenger side window ice up and then a large handprint stands out before it thaws, and Jensen knows that Sam is riding shotgun. He looks at the tapes in the box in the front seat. He moves them to the floorboard, but not before picking a tape and slipping it into the cassette player. He turns the engine over and the car is filled with the sound of Kansas and "Carry On My Wayward Son". The car seems to give a small shudder like a sigh, and Jensen feels cold glide across his cheek as he pulls out of the salvage yard and heads toward Texas, because Jared always spends the first two weeks of summer hiatus in San Antonio with his family.

----------

A few days on the road in the most bad ass car he's ever been in with the ghost of a demon hunter riding shot is a very interesting experience to say the least, especially when that ghost plays hide the motel soap, and gives icy wet willies in the middle of the night. Jensen would call it playful if it weren't so annoying when he's trying to sleep and adjust to the fact that this is real.

Finally he's in San Antonio, and pulling into the Padalecki's driveway. There is a big Chevy truck in the driveway that Jensen assumes is a rental. He parks behind the truck. He cuts the engine, takes a breath and feels a cold pressure on his arm, a gesture of reassurance.

"So, let's get this over with," Jensen says, and the pressure tightens for a moment before it lifts completely.

Jensen gets out of the car, walks up the driveway to the front door of the Padalecki home. He knocks on the door and plasters a smile on his face despite the nervous tension flooding through his veins.

The door is pulled opened and a surprised Jared is staring at him. "Jensen? Hey man, what are you doing here?"

Jensen shrugs. "I was on my way in to Richardson, and stopped here along the way. You know, doin' a little road trippin' to clear my head."

Jared nods and then he catches sight of the Impala in the drive. He sucks in a breath and brushes past Jensen to look at the car. "Holy shit! How'd you get Eric to lend you the Metallicar? I mean, he barely lets us take her out for a scene!"

"This isn't a prop Jay. It's the real thing. Down to the last detail. Ain't she pretty?" Jensen asks, pride coloring his tone.

Jared turns to him with a dumbfounded expression. "You mean you had a replica built? Shit! Bet that cost like a fortune!"

"Actually she's on loan for now from a friend. Her owner's not quite himself and he thought I could take her out for a drive to give her some fresh air. So you gonna invite me in or we just gonna hang out in the damn heat all day?"

Jared shakes his head. "Yeah, sure man. And hey, this isn't about the other night is it? I swear I don't know how it happened. I mean. I remember you dumping me on your couch, so how I made it to your bed… Yeah…" Jared says and scratches the back of his head.

"Naw man, that's totally cool. I mean, you've been known to sleep walk before right? I remember something your momma said about you sleep walking."

"Actually that's more Jeff's thing, but I've done it maybe once or twice," Jared replies a little awkwardly.

"Sure, yeah," Jensen says and he wonders if this could get any more awkward.

The awkward eventually fades around talking, beer, and video games. When Jared's mother comes home Jensen helps bring in the groceries and he's invited to dinner and to stay the night.

This is how Jensen finds himself in the guestroom down the hall from Jared's bedroom, wondering how he's going to get the blood he needs for Sam.

Jensen sits down on the edge of the bed. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clutching his head. He feels a vibration in his pocket, sits up, shifts and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. He looks at the id, flips the phone open and then says, "Yeah, Chris."

"Hey, just calling to check up on ya, son. How are things with the ghost boy? And hell, where are ya?"

"Sam's fine. I think I've found a way to bring him back. Right now I'm at Jared's parents' house. I need something from Jared before I can bring Sam back."

"You sure about this? Cause this Sam guy's dead. This is getting into some pretty heavy shit. I mean how can someone be brought back, Jen?"

"I don't know the details, man. I just know that if there's a way I'll do it. I'd even make a deal at the crossroads."

"Have you even listened to yourself? I mean I get that you work on a show about the supernatural. Hell, I've been there, done that, but you can't honestly expect that it's real. This is crazy. It ain't like you."

"But he's real! You've seen it. You've seen him," Jensen replies.

"I saw Jared drunk off his ass."

"That's bull shit."

"Okay, so I don't know what I saw, but you're putting too much into this! You're talking ghost stories and people that don't even exist!"

"Sam Winchester was a real person, he had an older brother Dean, and Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, even their dad John, they're real. Kripke told me! Hell, I've met Bobby and I'm driving their car, the real '67 Impala, and man she's a sweet ride. Explain that to me."

"I'm still sayin' you shouldn't get your hopes up. What if this doesn't pan out, and hell man, you play his brother on TV. Why would he want you like that?" Chris asks, and there's a knock on the door.

"Look, I gotta go. I'll call ya later, and tell Steve I said hey."

"Jen, look out for you."

Jensen flips the phone shut and looks up as the door opens. For a moment he thinks it's Jared but then the smell of gun oil, sweat, and Sam surrounds him, and Chris' concerns play back in his mind. He sighs as he looks away and says, "I'm not Dean."

Sam smiles, small and simple. "I know that. When I first found you I thought, maybe, but then I noticed things about you, and you're so different from him. Dean never would have…" Sam trails off and runs a hand through his hair.

"You loved him, didn't you?" Jensen asks.

"Of course I did. He was my brother."

"No," Jensen replies.

Sam nods. "But he didn't feel the same way. He raised me, protected me, but it never came to that. God, I wanted it to, but it never did. It never would have. So, you still want me alive, knowing this?"

Jensen swallows. "I want you. But you can't expect me to be him. Is that why you're still around? Is that why you kissed me? You think you can have him through me?"

Sam smiles again, warm and peaceful, and the hand is warm against Jensen's cheek as Sam sits down next to Jensen on the bed in the guestroom of the Padalecki household. "This isn't about Dean. It's about you, and when I saw who you are. I'll always love Dean. Like I said, he was my brother. I know you aren't him, Jensen, and I still care about you. I see you wake up, fix coffee, go over your lines, look at scripts. I watch you do the damn crossword and want to tell you the word when you get stumped. You're as close to normal as I've found since Jessica, but you know who I am, what my family's done, and you still want me."

"I always want the unattainable," Jensen replies with a snort.

"I'm right here, with you. Once we get this back to Bobby," Sam says and he holds out a zip lock bag with a bloody tissue in it, "I'm yours. I want you Jensen. I want you. I have since I saw you do that scene where you were Dean and you were making love to that girl that played Cassie. God, you have no idea what that was like. It hurt when Dean did that, but seeing you and her, even though I knew it wasn't real, I wanted to tear her apart just for being able to touch you when I couldn't. When I'm alive again, I'll make that up to. I'll fuck you, make love to you, until I'm all you'll ever want for the rest of our lives. And you don't have to worry about money. I've got a trust fund that I started back in college. It's still collecting interest, so I'm not after your money. I'm just after you."

"Yeah, and this whole Patrick Swayze thing is gettin' pretty old," Jensen says with a smirk and Sam knocks Jared's shoulder into his.

"I know, but when I come out of this alive, you're explaining to your friend Jared, why I call him Whoopi, or at the very least Oda Mae."

Jensen laughs softly. "Deal."

Sam shifts and then his mouth, Jared's mouth, is pressed against Jensen's in a soft kiss full of promises. Sam pulls back too quickly for Jensen's tastes and then gets up. "I should get back to his room. He could wake up any time, and you've got something you need to take care of," Sam says in way of an explanation as he looks pointedly at Jensen's crotch and slips out of the door, closing it carefully behind him.

Jensen groans in frustration at his semi-hard cock, and then proceeds to take care of it. Just one more thing that Sam has to make up to him.

----------

Jensen barely remembers saying goodbye to Jared and his family, and the drive from Texas back to South Dakota, just one long blur. He's pretty sure that Sam has managed to save him and the Impala from a couple of near misses. He's just distracted, because this is it, and it's huge. He isn't crazy. He's really about to witness a man being brought back from the dead. A man that he's actually fallen for.

By the time they reach South Dakota Bobby has everything set up. He doesn't look too happy to see Jensen back and with the blood, but what can he do, it's either this or another actor making a deal with the devil. Personally the world could do with one less actor, but this one wears Dean's face and for some reason he just can't bring himself to say no. Never could with John's damn boys.

Now the ritual is reaching its climatic point. Unlike the show it's taken hours to get to this point, and the burning herbs, especially the sage and patchouli are finally getting to Jensen's sinuses, but still he stares into the center of the circle where Bobby's laid out the bloody tissue, some of Sam's clothes and a strange bronze amulet, one that's like the prop he wears when he's playing Dean. Only this amulet is much more detailed.

Bobby's muttering in a language so far from what Jensen would recognize as Latin that it's lost on the young man, and just when Jensen's eyes slip shut his elbow slips on his knee and he jolts awake. There's a mist, pale and gold forming within the circle. The mist twists and conforms and begins to thicken into something solid.

Jensen watches stunned as the mist shapes arms and long legs, a torso, head, hair. Once the body is fully formed the mouth flies open and air is sucked into lungs and then the body lurches and twists in what looks like pain. Hoarse groans and screams rip from a throat newly formed and Jensen watches in horror as the body writhes, cuts slashing across the upper left arm like invisible claw marks, a hole forming in the right shoulder, a mark slipping low across the abdomen like a knife wound, and just as quickly as the wounds occur they fade into scars, and Jensen watches as a lifetime of battle scars take shape in a matter of seconds, until finally the last ones, claw marks raked down the chest and back, and bite marks in the left shoulder, form and scar over.

The body gives one last jerk, then stiffens and comes to rest in the center of the circle. Jensen rushes forward, not caring that Bobby's yelling about him being a damn fool and breaking the circle. He lands on his knees next to the scarred and worn body of a man that looks almost like Jared's twin, but there's the smell of gun oil and sweat and Sam strong in the air.

He swallows thickly as he lowers his hand, traces his fingers along the bite marks over Sam's shoulders and lets out a sigh of relief as he notices the shallow rise and fall of Sam's chest. He's breathing. He spreads his hand wide over Sam's heart and there's a steady thrum and something like electricity shoots up into his hands and there's a strange light engulfing him, it's a light blue that combines with the green that he's just noticed surrounding him and it melds together, and he knows without a doubt that he's connected to Sam, has been for well over two years now.

He takes in a breath, lifts his gaze to Sam's face, and he gasps as a cough escapes Sam's mouth and his eyes slowly flutter open. Sam's eyes are bright green and looking at him in awe. Sam tries to lift a hand to Jensen's face, but he's too weak to lift it very far. Jensen takes his hand and guides it up. Sam smiles softly at him, and in a hoarse voice he says, "Can finally touch you, Jen… Jensen."

Jensen shifts his face towards Sam's hand and presses his lips firmly against Sam's palm. "I know," he whispers. "And 'bout damn time."

"Hey, not to break up the touching moment and all, but aren't you a little cold there, Sam?" Bobby asks.

Jensen looks up sharply at the older man, but when he turns back to Sam he realizes that Sam is indeed very, very naked. Bobby grabs a blanket from his old beat up couch, throws it over Sam and between him and Jensen they get Sam to one of the spare rooms on the ground floor of Bobby's house.

It isn't long before Sam's drifted off to sleep, and then Jensen finds himself in Bobby's kitchen sitting at the worn table while Bobby heats up some left over stew on the stove. He can practically feel the man's eyes burning a hole in him and when Bobby finally sets a beer down in front of him and has a seat at the table, he looks up and snaps, "Why the hell didn't you tell me it would hurt him? Why the fuck didn't you say something?"

Bobby shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Would it have made a difference? You do something like this, you don't think there's a price to pay? That's the price, he relives all the pain from his life, every scar has to reform. It's what makes him who he is. It's what makes him a Winchester. You want him, you get the whole package, those scars are a part of it. The hurt is a part of him. That's his price to pay, but damn, boy, you're payin' just as much as Sam! What the hell were you thinkin' breakin' that circle like that?! I told you to keep out until it was done!"

"What the hell was I supposed to do? He needed someone and you sure as hell weren't doing a damn thing but letting him suffer!" Jensen snarls.

"I was bringing him back to life. His body had to form, but you broke the circle just as his soul was joining it! Are you out of your mind?! You touched him as his soul melded with his body! You're a part of him now! He can't leave you," Bobby growls, and then lets out a stale laugh, "And you, Mr. Hollywood, are just as much his as he's yours. There's no leavin' him. You're stuck with him, all the bad and the good, can't be no one else for you but him."

"What are you saying, exactly?"

"Boy, your souls joined, there ain't no breakin' that. You wanted him alive, you got him. That's the price you pay. You're a damn fool. Dean probably would have done the same thing though, or resold his soul, bless the boy. He's just lucky Sam made the demon go back on her word at the last minute. The bitch short changed him by a day so the deal was broken, that's why Dean got peace in the after." Bobby sighs and then adds, "There's a price for everything you do, you know. It's the devil's due. I'm just as much a fool for helpin' you. And someday it'll bite me in the ass, but till then you mind him. That boy's had a hard life. You see to it that it gets easier and you hurt him, I'll hunt you down myself. As it is, I don't see him going back to the hunt. Sam's always wanted normal. And he gets stuck with you. Christ, a man that could be Dean's twin, even down to being as stubborn and damn stupid."

"He's nothing like Dean," Sam says from the doorway, and both men look up at the last remaining Winchester clad in boxers and a white t-shirt.

Jensen knocks back his chair in his rush to get to Sam, and he helps Sam down into a chair and shakes his head. "You just came back from the dead. So what in the hell are you doing out of bed?"

"What are you? Dr. Seuss?" Sam asks, and then a coughing fit hits him. Bobby gets him a glass of water and Jensen helps Sam drink it, and once his throat is wet, Sam continues, "Bobby, I know you mean well, but stop it. Just lay off."

"But do you realize what he's done?" Bobby snaps.

Sam snorts. "Are you forgetting that I'm the psychic Winchester?"

Jensen stiffens at this and Sam turns to him with a smile. "Visions, telekinesis, empathy, a little bit of everything all rolled into little ol' me. Still think I'm a catch?" Sam asks, and then he drops his gaze to the table, his fingers absently sliding up and down along his glass of water.

"I didn't know it would hurt," Jensen blurts in reply.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here, and I never thought I'd miss breathing so much. And I can touch you. Me, not my fingers slipping through you or taking over someone else to just pretend that I'm touching you. I think the price is worth it," Sam replies.

"What about the other thing?" Jensen asks, his cheeks burning as his eyes find the same scar on the table that Sam seems so fixated on.

Sam reaches across the table and covers Jensen's hand with his. "I've always been big on monogamy. If you're it for the rest of my life then I think I can live with it. The question is, can you? I mean, now that I'm attainable?"

"I guess I have to, but I mean, why me? Really, Sam? Why me?" Jensen asks.

Sam sighs and then shifts his gaze to Bobby. "Not here, Jen. Maybe later when it's just us, but not here."

Bobby nods in acceptance of that, because there are some things that only Winchesters and their own are meant to know. He gets up and takes the pot off the burner. The stew is warm enough.

----------

Jensen helps Sam into bed, pulling the covers around him, kind of like the way he would sometimes tuck in McKenzie when he was younger and she woke up from nightmares. He's about to back away and get the light when Sam reaches out and catches his wrist.

"Where are you going?" he asks, and Jensen swallows.

"You just came back, Sam. Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Hey, I'm not made out of glass. Just lay with me. It's been so long, and I've seen you sleep for years, now I want to feel you sleep instead of just watch. You'd be amazed at how tired you can get of just watching."

Jensen nods. "Okay, but you let me know if it gets weird, okay? I mean, this can't be easy, the binding thing, being brought back from the dead, and… I know I look him."

Sam huffs up as Jensen slips under the covers, but keeps it so there's still distance between them. "We've been through this. I know you're not Dean. Dean went out fighting, the way he wanted to. I was the one that stuck around, and I found you. Now you move your ass over here and keep me warm or leave for good right the fuck now. You have about ten seconds to decide and then we get to see just how strong my abilities are since I've come back."

It doesn't take Jensen long to sidle up along Sam's body and curl up. Sam lets out a sigh of contentment. "You're really not like him at all."

"What makes you say that?" Jensen asks.

Sam laughs a little. "Dean would have fought the issue, now how about some sleep?"

Jensen grins a little and shifts closer, letting his foot slide up along Sam's calf as he presses his lips lightly against Sam's and whispers, "Feels good finally touching you."

Sam sighs. "Yeah, tell me about it."

Read Chapter Two of Anchor My Soul No More by TempestQuill