Jensenandjared4life and collaborated on this one. She wrote most of it. I edited what she had written and wrote the ending, but she graciously allowed me to post it. :) The ** marks where my work begins.
*Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of self harm*
Deans P.O.V.
Sam showed up just in time. We almost got cut up by a fucking scarecrow! I can't believe Emily's family tried to sacrifice her! Sam and I drove her to the bus stop after we finished burning the First Tree. "Think she's gonna be okay?" Sam asked.
"I hope so," I replied.
"And the rest of the towns people, they'll just get away with it?" Sam asked.
"Well, what'll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough," I replied.
We started walking to the car after waving to Emily.
"So, can I drop you off somewhere?" I asked Sam.
"No, I think you're stuck with me," Sam replied.
"What made change your mind?" I asked.
"I didn't. I still want to find dad, and you're still a pain in the ass, but Jess and mom, they're both gone. Dad is god knows where...you and me, were all that's left." He paused, "So, if were gonna see this through, were gonna gonna do it together."
"Hold me Sam. That was beautiful," I joked.
"You should be kissing my ass. You were dead meat, dude," Sam said.
"Yeah right, I had a plan. I'd have gotten out," I replied.
"Right," Sam said sarcastically.
We got in the car and drove to our next motel.
*Later in the Motel*
Earlier when Sam and I were talking, he said he would work with me to find dad.
I said, "Hold me Sam. That was beautiful," as a joke.
The only thing is I actually want him to hold me, but if he knew that he would hate me, and run the other way. I know I'm messed up for having these feelings about my brother, and I'm probably going to hell for being in love with my brother. No, I'm definitely going to hell; he's my brother for god's sake! I can't stop, though. Believe me, I've tried. I've been trying to stop them for about 10 years, but I can't. I am constantly feeling guilty—so guilty that I've started cutting myself. I've always worn long sleeve shirts and flannels. I just don't roll them up anymore. Sam hasn't ever noticed, but I'm very careful. I don't really wanna die. I never cut too deep and I always clean and bandage my cuts to keep infection at bay. I just feel so incredibly guilty. I feel like I'm a horrible excuse for a brother. I feel like I'm failing Sam. He deserves so much better than me. He deserves a brother that doesn't want to hold him and kiss him. He deserves a better brother.....
"Dean? Hey, Dean, what's wrong? Please stop crying. Just talk to me," Sam said, getting up from his bed and sitting on mine.
"I'm fine, just thinking about some stuff," I replied.
"It seems that there's more going on, Dean," Sam said with question evident in his voice.
"It's nothing, Sam. I'm just feeling a bit stressed," I told him, clearly trying to end the conversation, but he wouldn't let it go. He got up and sat down closer to me. I noticed that he was leaning in for a hug. I didn't know how I was gonna respond. I know how I wanted to respond, but I can't. Cause if I did...
