~CHAPTER 3~

Jack growled and slammed Dean hard against the side of his car, fisting his hands into his jacket. "Don't you ever..." but his voice trailed off as he locked in on Dean's green eyes which were blazing with fury.

"Don't ever what?" panted Dean, who was looking as uncomfortable and flushed as Jack felt. "Ask awkward questions like that?"

"Oh, you want awkward questions?" asked Jack with a laugh. "Well, here's one for you – to go back to the original issue – when were you planning on mentioning that the person you're in love with is your brother?"

The question gained the exact reaction he had been hoping for. All the colour drained right back out of Dean's face as he obviously realised that Jack was not going to let his questions go unanswered. At the same time, he pulled his way out of Jack's grasp and walked away from him, his back and shoulders tensed as though he was a snake waiting to strike.

"I always did the best that I could to treat him properly," he muttered. "I took him out when we had the chance, made sure he knew he could trust me. I didn't want to force him into anything he wasn't ready for – not that he was exactly reluctant when it came to that." He let out a sad laugh. "I definitely didn't plan to fall in love with him, you know."

Jack nodded. "Sure. Look, I'm," but he stopped and looked around, realising that they were still outside and in public. "Shouldn't we continue this somewhere a little more private? I'm pretty sure you don't want your dirty laundry being aired to the whole world."

"Right." Dean nodded and dropped into the driver's seat. He barely waited more than a few seconds for Jack to take his own place in the passenger seat before he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and drove back to the motel where he had set himself up for the night. During the drive, he stared fixedly at the road, but as soon as he came to a stop, he glanced at Jack and his shoulders drooped as all the energy and fight drained out of him.

"Look," he said, "I can only imagine what you must be thinking. But you're wrong. I did not plan on falling in love with Sam and I would certainly never have forced him if he didn't want it. I'm a lot of things, but I am not, and I will not ever be, that guy."

"I know that," said Jack quickly. "Dean, I'm not going to judge you or anything. I mean, if you came from a normal family, I might be a little more freaked out, but the fact is, you didn't. With your lifestyle and working as a hunter – I think it's natural that you would end up gravitating towards each other, because you only really had each other. The two of you eventually falling for each other seems like the next step, I guess."

Dean bit his lip. "Jack, let me stop you right there," he said. "Because I think I know what you're going to say and I'd actually like to say it first myself." He rubbed his face. "That night...it should never have happened. We both know that and...well, we both know why. Let's not sugar-coat it; it's obvious that there's too much crap going on with both of us. I mean, you're still in love with your guy –"

"Ianto."

"Right, and I'm just," Dean shook his head. "Yeah."

"Hey." Jack leaned over and slipped his arm around Dean's shoulders. "You're not just anything. I may not have known you for very long, but I know that you're hot and smart – and you have a heart big enough to love the entire world, if you can just let yourself do it." His arm tightened around Dean a little. "You are one of the good guys, Dean Winchester. Don't let anyone make you believe any differently."

Dean shrugged and rubbed his hands over his face. "Yeah, well, I'm..." but his voice trailed off when he looked up and saw an all-too familiar figure standing in front of the Impala, with a thunderstruck look on his face as he stared at the car. "Crap," he muttered and scrambled outside. "Sam!" he shouted desperately. "Sammy, wait! It's not..." but Sam just shook his head and stormed away, "...what it looks like," finished Dean, clasping his hands behind his head and staring up at the sky. "Son of a bitch," he muttered, unable to hide the crack in his voice.

Jack came over and rubbed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "You just wait here for a bit," he said. "I'll go and talk to him." Without giving the younger man any chance to protest, he also hurried down the road, Dean's anguished green eyes drilling holes into the back of his head.

The hunt did not take very long; Sam had barely even gone out of sight of the car, and now he was leaning against a tree as though he did not have a care in the world. Jack's fists clenched inside his pockets and he forced himself to calm down – Dean would not take very kindly to what he wanted to do to Sam, that was for sure. So, he plastered on his brightest smile, strode up to the taller man and held out his hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said. "And you, of course, must be Sam Winchester."

Sam cocked his head and pursed his lips. "Must I?"

"Well, either that or there's an imposter in your brother's photograph who looks an awful lot like you," Jack replied. "I know which option I'd prefer."

A muscle started to twitch in Sam's jaw, but he quickly stopped it and smiled. "Ah, so you have met my brother, then."

"Cut the crap," said Jack, dropping all pretences. "You know I've met Dean; you just saw us and you didn't seem too happy about it." His hackles were rising with this kid already and it took a supreme effort for him not to introduce that pretty face to his fist.

"No, I'm just more concerned about how you know who I am," answered Sam. "I don't think we've ever met before and I'm pretty sure I'd remember you."

It never ceased to amaze Jack how different the same words could seem depending on who said them. Coming from Dean, they might have sounded seductive, even inviting. But now that Sam was saying them, Jack felt annoyed and defensive. "And why do you say that?" he asked.

"Well, no offence, but," Sam chewed his lip, "you sort of stand out in a crowd."

"Yes, well, I'm clearly not the only one," said Jack, looking Sam up and down. "Sasquatch."

It wasn't exactly meant in affectionate terms, but equally it hadn't been intended to be overly insulting either, but Jack was very surprised when Sam's eyes flashed with fury. "There's only one person who's allowed to call me that," he hissed. "And I don't think you're that person."

"Why did you run off?" asked Jack, changing the subject. "You took one look at the car and bolted. Was it because you were scared that your brother was going to show up and ruin everything for you, so you thought that if you left fast enough –"

"Shut up."

"If you left fast enough, you wouldn't have to acknowledge that he'd even been there? Or," Jack leaned back, hand on his hip, "was it because you couldn't stand to see him with someone else –"

The punch came faster than he had expected it to and he stumbled backwards and hit the ground as Sam towered over him, glaring. But before he could react, he heard a loud crack behind him. Both men turned round just in time to see Dean come forward, holding his shotgun.

He stepped calmly around Sam and helped Jack to his feet again. "Mind keeping it down a little?" he asked with a strained smile. "We don't want to cause a scene."

Jack nodded, embarrassed. "Sorry, Dean."

"Thank you." Dean turned to his brother and sighed. "All right, inside." Then, without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Sam's hand and pulled him into the motel room, Jack trailing behind them. "Okay, Sammy," he said, "let it out. At least here, we won't disturb the neighbours too badly."

"Disturb the neighbours?!" Sam spluttered. "Firstly, there's no one here and secondly, even if there was, I think they'd be more concerned by the gunshot that came from you than by two people arguing!"

"But you weren't just arguing!" snapped Dean. "You punched him! God, Sam, I know he's a little hard to take at first, but there was no need for you to do that!"

"Hey!" Jack protested, but then seeing Dean raise his eyebrow, he shrugged and nodded. It was true, anyway.

"Grown a bit of a backbone now, have you, Dean?" Sam remarked. "Or is it just selective?"

Dean frowned at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know," replied Sam. "You're perfectly happy to stand up for this guy, but you couldn't even stand up to your own family? You didn't stand up for me against Dad when I left, even though you said that you loved me and you'd do anything for me!"

"I do love you!" shouted Dean. "And I would do anything for you! But that night, I was just a little bit more concerned with trying to stop you and Dad from killing each other!" He rubbed his head. "I need some air," he muttered and stalked out.

Sam immediately made for the door, but Jack caught his arm. "Wait," he instructed. "Give him a few minutes to just cool down."

"Why is it any of your business?" snarled Sam. "He's my...he's my brother!"

"Yeah, and he's also my friend," Jack snapped back.

"Yes, well, I lo – I care about him too!" shouted Sam. "And I'm family!"

"Really?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "Funny that, because from where I'm looking, he has worked his ass off trying to do everything he can to make you happy and now you're off living a high life without him while I've been there for him. Sorry, but that doesn't sound like something someone who cares about his family would do, if you ask me."

"What do you know about it?" hissed Sam. "Nothing!"

"I can tell you that Dean cares about you more than anything in the world," said Jack neutrally. "I can tell you that he always has and always will, and that he's proud of you, but he misses you every day. And I can tell you that he'd much prefer that we at least tried to get along with each other."

"Who are you?" asked Sam suspiciously.

"I don't know," said Jack, the faintest hint of a twisted grin tugging at his lips. "But I think we should try not to fight. For Dean's sake, if nothing else. If you care about him at all –"

"Don't even go there," snapped Sam, but then he saw the steely glint in Jack's eyes and nodded. "Fine." He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the back wall, looking every inch the rebellious teenager.

Jack thought about saying something, but before he could gather enough words, the motel room door opened and Dean came back in. He glanced over Sam and Jack, who were pointedly not looking at each other and sighed inwardly. God, why can't everyone just get along? But, rather than get involved in what he knew would turn out to be another argument, he simply grabbed a beer from the fridge and dropped into a chair. "So...any hunting need doing around here?"

Sam shrugged. "Don't think..." he started to say, before he realised Dean wasn't looking in his direction and that Jack was shaking his head in response to the question. He looked between the two older men and then zeroed in on his brother. "You...you told him?!"

"Technically...I didn't tell him," said Dean. "He came across me when I was doing a salt and burn in Texas the other week. The freakin' ghost nearly killed him for God's sake! He figured out I was a hunter from that."

"Still," Sam threw his hands in the air, "you let a stranger find out about us! " He turned to Jack. "No offence."

Jack's eye twitched. "None taken. But I don't think you're –"

"God, Dean!" Sam cut Jack off and spun back round to face his brother. "What the hell happened to the family business?"

"What, do you think there's some kind of little pill that lets you forget things just like that, Sam?" Dean snorted. "Come on!" If there was, I'd have found them and taken one years ago...

Sam let out a bitter laugh. "You know, I managed to keep what I did from Jess! And now you –"

"Woah, hang on!" interrupted Dean. "I didn't make you keep this from your girlfriend!" He allowed himself to enjoy a small thrill at the shock on Sam's face at the realisation that Dean knew exactly who Jess was. "No, you did that on your own. And I don't know why you're mad about this; it's not as if Jack knowing about us affects you and her in any way. I tried to leave you out of it. Just...just like you wanted me to."

Sam nodded. "Huh. So…you just let someone we don't even know find out about this – about us – and you call that leaving me out of it." He scoffed. "Well, no offence, Dean, but if you ask me, you've done a pretty piss-poor job of it."

There was silence for a moment, but then Sam's eyes widened. "Wait! How long have you two," he waved between Jack and Dean, "known each other? The only way Dean would be so comfortable with someone is if he's known them well for a long time."

"What the hell are you saying?" asked Dean.

Sam laughed bitterly. "How long, Dean, huh? How long have you been with him? Since I left? Before I left? You've been with him all that time?!"

Dean drew backwards, stung. "Sammy..."

"All right, that's enough," interrupted Jack, resting a hand on Dean's arm. "Sam, if you really think Dean would do something like that, you clearly don't know him as well as you thought you did. I've known him a week and I know that he would never do something like that. And, for the record, you don't get to be angry about this. What Dean does and who he does it with is none of your damn business anymore." He jabbed his finger towards Sam's chest. "You had your chance at something wonderful with him – you had your chance and you blew it!"

Sam glowered. "You know what? Screw this!" he shouted and stormed out of the motel room, slamming the door so hard that one of the pictures on the wall fell off.

Dean sighed and pressed his forehead against the wall. "I'm not that guy," he muttered, clenching his fists so hard he was leaving fingernail marks in his palms. "I know I flirt a lot, but I don't cheat."

Jack nodded. "I know, Dean," he said, placing his hand on the younger man's back. "I know." He gazed up at the ceiling and snorted. "Unlike Sam," he muttered.

"What?" asked Dean, who had heard Jack's words. But he didn't wait for an answer; instead, he stepped outside the room and almost immediately found Sam leaning against the wall and biting hard on his lip as he stared into the night. "Hey."

"Hey." Sam's voice was almost inaudible. He looked at Dean and sighed. "I'm sorry, Dean. I was out of line saying what I said. I know you never cheated on me and I know you're not that guy."

"No, I'm not." Dean drew out a sharp breath. "What happened to us, Sam? What changed? When did what we had stop being enough for you? What did..." his voice cracked and he had to stop for a minute to get himself back under control, "what did I do so wrong that it made you stop loving me?"

Sam shook his head. "No, Dean...it wasn't you. It was me."

If Sam had thought his words would be comforting, he was sadly mistaken. Dean jerked backwards, feeling as though he had just been stabbed straight through the heart. "Sammy..." he gasped out, his breath hitching on the word. But before he could speak again, the motel room door creaked open.

"I think you've said enough, Sam." Jack stepped forwards and placed one hand comfortingly on Dean's shoulder. "It's time for you to leave. Your girlfriend will be worried." The words were a challenge and he knew they both knew it. He was daring Sam to stay, daring him to prove that Dean still meant something to him, that what they shared was important to him and always would be.

"Right." Sam nodded and started to leave, only to change his mind and turn back. He walked up to Dean, who hadn't moved since Jack had appeared and placed one hand gently on his cheek before leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips. His insides twisted a little and his heart raced when he felt Dean kiss him back, but he managed to pull away before he allowed it to develop too much. Instead, he forced himself to look up, straight into Dean's questioning green eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, taking no pleasure in seeing the struggling hope disappear at his words.

"Sammy..." Dean choked out, "please..."

But Sam shook his head and just dropped his hand down into Dean's and clasped it gently for barely a minute before he pulled away and walked back into the night, without looking back, biting back the tears that were threatening to spill down his face.

"Sam!" Dean called out, starting to rush down the stairs and go after his brother. But then his fingers brushed over something that had been left in the palm of his hand. He opened his hand and hissed sharply when he saw the plaited leather wristband he was holding and he remembered the night that he had given it to Sam.

Dean stepped back and smiled to himself as he admired his handiwork. John might have left them alone while he followed up a lead – again – but this time, he didn't care. This time, it would just be him and Sam together for Christmas. They could curl up beside each other and not have to pretend like they always did when their father was around. This year, he knew, was going to be their best Christmas ever. Even so, he couldn't help but feel a little nervous when he heard the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow as Sam returned to the motel. But, with a deep breath, he picked up the small parcel he'd left on the table, slipped it into his coat pocket and opened the motel room door. Almost immediately, the icy cold snow and wind hit him like a freight train.

"Shit!" he gasped, drawing his coat closer around him. He wasn't exactly unfamiliar with these conditions, but that didn't mean he had to like them any more than he liked the burning heat of the Nevada desert during the height of summer. He grimaced at the memory; that had not been a fun trip.

Sam came up to the door a moment later and raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What're you doing out here, Dean?" he asked. "You're going to freeze."

"I was waiting for you," said Dean, reaching up to ruffle his brother's hair; at seventeen, Sam was now a good inch or two taller than he was. "It's Christmas."

"No kidding." Sam looked up. "You put mistletoe over the door? Dean, you do know what that's traditionally used for, don't you?"

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot!" huffed Dean. "Look, Dad's away and he'll be away for a few more days. It's just you and me for Christmas this year."

The wary look vanished from Sam's face and his eyes lit up. "Just you and me?"

"Yep." Dean held out his hand. "Come on." He led Sam into the doorway and, without even bothering to check if anyone was watching, leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "Mmm...love you, Sammy."

"Love you too, Dean, but it's Sam now. Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old, remember?" Chuckling, Sam stepped inside the room. His mouth dropped open as he looked around. "Dean! Did you..."

"Well, with it being only the two of us, I thought I'd try and make this Christmas as...perfect for you as I could," smiled Dean. "I know it's not much, but..." he trailed off and rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. "Yeah."

"Dean..." Sam whispered breathlessly. "I...I don't know what to say. This is...you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble, just for me."

"It wasn't any trouble," said Dean, shutting the door behind them. "Sam, I love you. I know I don't say it nearly often enough, but I do. I wish that we didn't have to hide, but..."

"One day," Sam promised, taking Dean's hands in his own. "One day, Dean."

"Yeah." Dean drew the small parcel out of his pocket and placed it in Sam's hand. "One day."

The look on Sam's face when he had opened that parcel and the way his eyes had shone when he'd seen a matching band on his brother's wrist had warmed Dean's heart even more than the eggnog he'd made could have done. When Sam had tied it around his wrist in a strong knot to make sure it would never fall off, Dean had thought he would explode from sheer joy.

And now, not even a year later, everything had changed. Now, here he was, the bracelet lying limply in his hand, discarded and dismissed as Sam walked away. The hope and dream that Dean had secretly harboured that one day they would be together and live like a relatively normal couple had been ripped away and was lying in tatters before him.

"Dean," Jack said quietly, gripping his shoulder a little tighter. "Dean, come here, come on." He shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around Dean's trembling form, guiding him back into the room. He kicked the door closed. "Damn, you're shivering," he muttered, lowering the blonde onto the bed. "I'll get you something..." but he hadn't managed to move more than three paces before Dean's hand suddenly shot out from underneath the coat and latched onto his.

"Please..."

Jack turned round at the choked whisper and one look at the tear-filled green eyes staring desperately at him had him instantly forgetting where he was going. "Oh, Dean..." he whispered, dropping down onto the bed and wrapping him up in his arms without hesitation. He kept up a litany of reassuring whispers and gently stroked Dean's hair, feeling the other man's tears soak into the collar of his shirt. "Shhh," he whispered, "it's okay, Dean, it's okay..."

"Don't...don't leave me," Dean choked out, his body shaking in Jack's arms. "Please...please don't leave..."

"Shhh." Jack rubbed gentle circles over Dean's back and held him tighter. "I'm here, Dean. I'm not going anywhere." He pressed his forehead into Dean's hair and blinked away his own tears. "I won't leave you alone, not now – not unless you want me to go. I promise."

Inwardly, he cursed himself; he knew he shouldn't be getting too attached to the young man, because it would only hurt all the more when, not if, Dean was swept away from him, just like everyone else he'd cared for. But he couldn't help it; already, even after only a little more than a week, Dean Winchester was finding his way underneath Jack's skin and a profound bond was already being formed between them – something Jack could not ignore.

"It's okay," he whispered again, "it's going to be okay..."