Summary – Dean finds out a few things about Sam's relationship with John. Mentions of child abuse, Wincest and other dirty things

Disclaimer – Not my boys, just my story. If you like, please review!

Chapter 1

Sam woke up in agony. His body was on fire, burning through to his bones. He was choking on harsh pants of air, trying to get enough breath to scream. He couldn't focus, couldn't see, and the panic made him thrash. Hands on his arms and chest restrained him and he tried to fight them, to strike out.

"Easy, Sammy, calm down, I've got you, I'm here" Dean's voice finally filtered through the haze and he stopped struggling at the sound of it. As his body stilled, the hands became less binding, fingers softer, trying to soothe away some of his pain.

The fire that had initially seemed to consume his entire body receded, until it was contained to his left arm and shoulder only. The memory of what happened floated back to him, a poltergeist haunting an old hotel. They had been checking it out, him, Dean and John Winchester, when it decided it had had enough of their trespassing and had flung an iron bar in their direction. Sam had taken it through the shoulder, and he remembered the shock of looking down and seeing it embedded firmly in him. Staring at it, fascinated, he hadn't felt pain until Dean had shouted out, his face pale and frantic. Then he had collapsed to the floor, screaming and spitting curses.

His vision cleared and the first thing that came into view was his brother's face, tight with worry. He realised that Dean was holding his upper arm still, the bar removed at some point while he was unconscious. He was lying on his back on a lumpy bed at the motel they had checked into earlier that day. John Winchester sat on the right side of the bed, one hand on his good shoulder to hold him down, the other patching up the wound. He was frowning in concentration. When he raised his gaze to his youngest son and saw awareness of his surroundings, his frown deepened and Sam saw the unmasked disgust before he turned back to his work. John's disappointment in him was nothing new, although since he had rejoined his sons, he had obviously tried to keep it in check, treating Sam with the complete indifference he had previously reserved for when Dean was around only.

Dean's face relaxed slightly as he saw Sam's face clear of the blind panic. Sam felt something stroking his cheek and realised it was Dean's other hand, the back of his fingers brushing the same spot in a repetitive motion, giving him something to concentrate on other than John's stitching of his shoulder.

"Hey little bro. You back with us?" Dean attempted a reassuring smile. "Had me worried there. Fucker got you good."

"Did you get it?" Sam's voice broke on the words, his dry throat hoarse, but he forced them out.

"Course we did. One of my finer exorcisms, if I do say so. It's a shame you had to miss it."

"Yeah, bummer." The brothers exchanged weak smiles.

"Try and get some rest, son." John said in a cold voice, taking his attention away from Dean. "You lost some blood, but you'll be fine after I patch you up." Sam gave a weak nod as he looked tentatively at his father, but John's attention remained on his shoulder, his fingers working methodically. He looked back at Dean, who tightened his grip on Sam's arm slightly and continued to stroke his cheek, reassuring him that he was there. Suddenly too exhausted to worry about nightmares for once, Sam closed his eyes and slipped into black.

Jolting awake from the screams and blood and pain of his dreams, Sam almost sat up before the pull of his shoulder throbbed. Sweat had broken out and the bed sheets were clinging to his body uncomfortably. He kicked them off, the cool night air hitting his bared skin. Someone had undressed him, leaving him in boxers and a fresh t-shirt. The room was dark, John snoring in the other bed. He wondered where Dean was.

"Sam? You ok?" The question was answered as Dean's head appeared between the two beds, his hair sleep tangled.

"Nightmare. 'M cool." Sam whispered in reply, glancing over at their father's sleeping form.

"You're shivering, Sam." Dean looked over at their father as well, then silently climbed onto the mattress with Sam. His brother didn't have the same fear of their father that Sam did, but then Dean had never experienced quite the same upbringing that Sam had, not that Sam would ever voluntarily tell Dean that.

"Dean…"

"Shhh. I was worried about you today, man." Dean tried to keep his voice casual, but Sam could hear the genuine emotion behind it. With a last glance at John Winchester, he let Dean wrap an arm over his chest and press into his good side. He turned his head to face Dean, and they looked at each other with identical green eyes, noses almost touching, before Dean moved in and kissed his brother. The urgency of Dean's mouth against his conveyed the fear Dean had been repressing. Sam responded, his turn now to calm and reassure his brother. Sam slid his good hand up between their bodies to tangle in the soft hair at the nape of Dean's neck. Their tongues battled for control, Sam ceding to Dean as the older Winchester levered himself up to half lie across Sam's body, forearms either side of Sam's head. A muffled moan escaped from Dean, caught in Sam's mouth before it could travel to their father's bed. Pulling away slightly, Dean rested his forehead against Sam's, their panting breaths licking across each others' faces.

"God, Sammy, don't scare me like that again." Dean whispered, barely audible. For once, Sam didn't complain about being called Sammy, instead choosing to pull his brother down for another kiss, this one less desperate than the last. They kissed, wet and soft and easy, until each could taste the other in the back of his throat. Dean rolled back to the side, looping his arm over Sam's waist, his hand coming down to rest possessively on his baby brother's exposed hip bone. Sam's hand remained where it was buried in Dean's hair, and he turned his head to nuzzle briefly against Dean's cheek.

"What if dad wakes up?"

"Don't worry, Sam. I'll wake up before him, he won't find out." Dean pulled the bedcovers back up, over their entangled legs.

"Just sleep."