Innocent Beginnings, Part 2

[my_sam_dean]

Title: Innocent Beginnings,Part 2
Author: my_sam_dean
Fandom Supernatural
Rating NC-17
Summary: Dean helps Sam with a personal problem.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Warnings: Slash, incest, masturbation, first time
Prompt: 7 - anniversary


Another crappy motel room, another hunt complete.

Dean had first shower, a benefit of being older. He’d become more considerate in general than he was before he and Sam started the new twist to their relationship and made sure to leave Sam plenty of hot water. As soon as the goo was gone, he wrapped a towel around his waist and tried to fix his hair by running his fingers through it.

“Shower’s free.” Dean carried his filthy clothes across the room.

“What’s the status on the hot water?”

“Still there if you hurry before another guest takes it all.”

“How’s your chest?” Sam pointed to a bruise already forming on Dean’s torso.

“Didn’t even notice. It’ll be fine.”

Sam took him at his word and went into the bathroom.

No longer frustrated, Sam had time to think while he stood under the warm spray. He pondered about how his relationship with Dean had changed for the good. Part of him wanted to be as bold as Dean had been and surprise him in the shower. The other part still wondered what Jessica would think of him now. If she could see him, would she be disgusted by his actions or would she try to understand just how difficult her death and his life since then had been?

Jess had a huge heart and she was very understanding. She’d never pushed when he couldn’t tell her more about his past or the reasons for his scars. She was open minded and didn’t judge people. In his heart, he thought she’d love him enough to appreciate the fact that he was happy and give him her blessing. He’d just never figured that he would have a blossoming relationship with Dean

After Sam dried off, he found Dean already under the covers enjoying the latest infomercial.

“Anything we need?”

“I doubt anyone really needs a Shamwow but the Magic Bullet might come in handy if we ever had a fridge full of food.”

“So you won’t be calling the operators that are just waiting for your order?”

“That has to be a sucky job. I can’t imagine sitting by a phone to sell people junk that they don’t need and probably won’t work for more than a month. I wonder how they sleep at night.”

“Maybe they stay up watching the other infomercials to see how the competition is doing.”

“Probably.“

Sam dropped his towel just before shutting off the light and sliding in his side of the bed.

The mattress creaked as they settled beside each other in the bed. Sam’s fingers lingered over Dean’s new bruise.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Worry wart.”

Dean pulled Sam’s hand back against his skin when Sam was going to retreat after Dean’s snarky response.

“Don’t. Leave it. I like it there.”

Sam laid on his side and felt Dean’s heart beat under his palm. Dean ran his hand down Sam’s side, loving the feel of Sam’s skin and relishing the fact that he was allowed to touch it.

When his fingers ran against a ticklish spot, Sam jerked away a little bit. Once Dean had passed it, Sam molded himself back into Dean's side.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you doing better than, well, you know, before?"

Sam thought about the past weeks and compared them to the ones that had preceded them. "Yeah, I am. Why?"

"You seem more accepting and don't push me away. It just made me wonder. Maybe I should have found you someone sooner and we could have stuck in town longer."

"Wouldn't have helped, Dean. I couldn't let in anyone but you. Known you my whole life and yet it was still so difficult. You must think I'm more uptight than ever."

"No, I don't think that." Dean drew abstract pictures on Sam's skin as he spoke. "You were in a bad spot. We've always been told not to trust people. It's hard to go against the grain on that one."

"I didn't even let Jess in."

"Huh?" Dean's motions stopped so he could concentrate on listening.

"I mean, I let her into my life a little. I let her know me to a certain extent. But, I could never truthfully answer a large part of her questions. I had to change the topic and she was so understanding that she let me off the hook. I'd tried to be 'Sam the Stanford Student' instead of myself. She seemed to like the version of me that she knew, though." Sam paused for a minute. "How could she love me when she knew that I was not only keeping secrets from her but also lying when I got backed into a corner?"

"Because she loved you, she dropped the subject. I know you like to think that you have a good poker face, but you don't. I'm sure she could tell that it made you miserable and that was the last thing she wanted to do."

"She never called me a liar."

"What you told her white lies, right? A little skewed, maybe, but probably as close to the truth as you could get?"

"I suppose."

"They were harmless and more importantly, they were told to keep her safe. She knew you had her best interests at heart. If you'd tried to tell an actual lie, a bold faced big one, she'd have been pissed. What you did was surround her in bubble wrap so that the world couldn't harm her as easily as someone else."

"I couldn't keep her safe."

"And Dad couldn't save Mom. That's how it works with demons, Sam. You do the best you can and just hope that the devil shows up where and when you're expecting him. You made her happy. She knew you cared."

"Hope so."

"It was almost sickening to see the goo-goo eyes you made at each other. I was so close to spewing all over your living room."

"Sounds like you."

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "I really want you to find that again, though. It suited you. Stanford did, too. Do you ever think of going back?"

"To Stanford?"

"Yeah."

"No. There are too many places that would remind me of her."

"A different college?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead. Besides, where would we get the money?"

"I'd find a way."

"Oh, no, Dean. I know your ways of earning quick cash and you know I don't approve. I'd hate to think of you out there doing that while I got to go to school."

"What if I got a regular job to support you?" The words were spoken slowly.

"What?"

"I could work for Bobby. Still take off for hunts. He could use an extra hand at the scrap yard. I'd just send you the money."

"No, Dean." Sam stated sternly. "Just no." Sam had been relaxed and in the vicinity of happy when he'd gotten out of his shower. He'd determined that he enjoyed how his and Dean's relationship was changing and felt like it was going to last. Now, with Dean so willing to send him away, Sam didn't know how to tell him that he wanted--no, needed--to stay.

They laid there in silence.

Sam thought that maybe Dean was just trying to be a crutch until Sam could find a hookup. Maybe he didn't enjoy their activities and was just doing it as his duty as an older brother. The thought of that broke Sam's soul. Never in his life had he tried to trick someone into being with him. He wanted to be intimate only with people who loved him and wanted the same thing.

Unsure as to why his suggestion of Sam getting back to his Sammified life overwhelmed him, Dean tried to run the last conversation through his mind. All he could see was that he was encouraging Sam be the independent, driven kid that he'd been before Stanford. What was wrong with Dean having Sam's back while he claimed his life back as his own?

*****

"I'll skip the careless speech since it never does me any good." Sam bent down by the passenger side door and reached in to help Dean out of the car. "Watch your head." Once he was able to get Dean clear of the car door, he shut it and pulled Dean toward the motel.

Sam stripped Dean down to check him over for injuries. Besides bruises and cuts that wouldn't require stitches, he didn't find much. Oh, Dean's head cracking against that headstone was gonna hurt like hell. He found a couple aspirin and got Dean to swallow them, hoping that they'd take the edge off of what had to be a killer headache.

Armed with a bowl of warm water and a washcloth, Sam went back to Dean to wipe off a majority of the grime. Or, at least his face if that was all that he could pry off at the moment. Dean, even injured, naked on the sheets, made Sam's blood flow south. He tried to ignore it as best he could. He and Dean had used their hands on each other plenty of times since that first time in the car. It wasn't that Dean's sprawled out body was new to him. It was just so inviting and tempting.

"Sammy?" Dean croaked when Sam had moved on to washing his neck.

"Yeah, Dean." Sam rinsed out the rag, wrung it out, and started his gentle ministrations again.

"What happened?"

"You pissed off the ghost. Insulted her family, if I remember correctly. She slammed you across that cemetery faster than any other one I've seen."

"Bitch."

"Yep. That's what you called her. I'm starting to think that some classes on etiquette would be a good investment for you. The enraged ghosts wouldn't get amped up even more by your snide remarks."

"You love my sense of humor."

"Not everyone does."

Dean's breathing slowed to where Sam knew he was asleep. He quickly finished up, cleaned up and crept into bed, trying not to wake Dean.

Sam laid his head by Dean's shoulder. If Dean ever caught him cuddling, it would be the end of it. Sam preferred to think of it as conserving body heat. Dean's steady inhale and exhale rhythm along with his chest moving along, kept Sam up. Usually, he slept best with Dean right next to him. Not so tonight.

Curiosity won out. He was too chicken to approach Dean and instigate any of their encounters. With Dean out of it, he would be able to explore a little without an audience.

He slid his hand lower on Dean's body, over his washboard stomach and still further. He almost quit when his fingers slid across the trail of thick hair just out of nerves. When he felt the warmth of Dean's organ against his hand, it was instinct to move so he could grasp it. Still soft, Sam was able to tease a little bit and watch as it grew harder.

Dean mumbled in his sleep and turned his head on his pillow. Sam's heartbeat pounded in his chest. This was his chance. If he approached Dean and Dean refused, Sam could always tell him that it was just a dream caused by concussion. He needed a way to show Dean that he didn't want to leave. He didn't have any place else he wanted to be. Also, he needed Dean. Like, really needed Dean in a non-brotherly way.

Taking a deep breath, Sam closed his fingers around Dean once more and moved ever so slightly.

"Sammy?"

"Hmm?"

"What are you--oh, nice." Dean relaxed into Sam's touch. He didn't argue or offer up any resistance. As Sam increased his attention on Dean, he responded more and more to Sam's touch.

Sam bit his lip as he continued peppering Dean with light brushes against his skin. He didn't know exactly where Dean liked to be touched. He knew the one main area but all the other little places that turned him on were an unknown. He kept up the slow stroking motions as he sought out other sensitive spots.

He was kissing Dean's earlobe when Dean surprised him by asking, "If I wake up, will you continue or do I need to be asleep for you to lay your hands on me?"

Sam froze. Dean didn't sound mad that Sam had taken advantage of his blurry mind. It was like he was just curious.

"I just--um," Sam stuttered as he sat up.

"Come back down here." Dean kept his voice soft and undemanding. He pulled Sam to him by placing his hand on the back of Sam's neck. He slowly brought their lips together a subtle slip and slide against each other. Between kisses, he told Sam, "I'd let you do this when I'm awake, you know. Anytime you wanted. You just never asked."

"Couldn't."

"Are you ashamed of us?"

"No! It's just that I'm shy." Sam hid his face in Dean's neck after that statement.

"You walk into strange situations to interview people like you have for years, you carry a gun and other weapons on your person and you blow away what most folks only see in their nightmares. You can do all that, but you're shy around me?"

"You're the only one who could take this all away from me."

"What 'all' do you mean?"

"Me and you."

"What makes you think I'd do that?"

"Talking about Stanford or other colleges, finding me a girl. I got the feeling that this is just a stop on a road to somewhere else and I don't want to leave."

"I thought going back to college was what you wanted. Granted, you haven't mentioned it much since Jess died but I spent years hearing about your big escape from John Winchester. I didn't think any of that had changed. Also, you'd wanted the whole shebang: wife, kids, white picket fence and a dog in the yard."

"It's different now."

Dean was silent.

"I was lost before and didn't know what world I belonged in. Now I've realized that even if I want to be in the normal world, hunting will always drag me back. It's not the people bringing me back, it's the monsters that just won't stay away."

"So you're staying that you belong like this with me?"

Sam squeaked out, "If you'd let me."

Instead of trying to get Sam to look at him, Dean just put a hand in his hair and started to stroke. "I'd never let you go if I had my way. But, I want you to have whatever you want."

"You. Just you."

"Okay." Dean cleared his throat. "No more talk about splitting for college or chicks. One day, we might get tired of hunting and need to find a place to settle down. That would be a great opportunity for college."

"That's a long time from now. Can we just drop it?"

"Sure, Sammy." Dean yawned. "I'm sleepy. You can continue as you were but I'd really like you to do that when I'm awake, too."

"I know, Dean. I'll try to be more bold."

"That's all I can ask. Night, Sammy."

Sam kissed the side of Dean's neck. "Night, Dean."

***

It was a few days later before Sam gathered enough guts to try to put the moves on Dean. They'd just returned from a diner and had their showers. Dean was sitting on the bed with a beer watching some lame reality show. Sam walked over and sat behind Dean with his legs spread out before him on each side of Dean.

"What are you watching?"

"What does it look like, genius? Reality television. Doesn't matter what the name of the show is, they're all the same to me."

"Nothing else was on?"

"No, Sam, I just think this is such riveting programming."

A snarky Dean was a typical Dean. Too quiet and Sam knew he was bottling up things better left said. Too loud and Sam knew that either he'd really screwed up or Dean had messed something up and was mad at himself. Dean took quite a bit on as his responsibility and therefore his fault. Too much for Sam's liking and Dean carried so much guilt.

Sam rested his hand on Dean's hip as he watched the boisterous twenty-somethings holler and bicker. He slid his thumb under Dean's shirt and rubbed his hand against Dean's stomach.

Dean let out a sigh and leaned back into Sam.

"Eat too much for supper?" Sam asked.

"Just processing. I didn't really like their meatloaf."

"This feel good?"

"Hmm." Dean closed his eyes and reclined against Sam's chest.

His heart beat faster as Dean relaxed into his arms. It was his first time initiating activities except for the sleepy blunder when Dean had woken up. He shifted just a little as he slid under Dean's waistband, still rubbing his stomach in circles. When Dean didn't make a smart comment or move away, Sam gathered enough guts to move his hand further south to a familiar place.

"Sammy," Dean murmured as he pressed into Sam's hand.

Encouraged, Sam kept with his stroking motions and placed a kiss on the slip of bare skin between Dean's neck and shirt. The combination of the scent of the cheap motel soap and the one that was just plain Dean surrounded Sam. He inhaled the intoxicating mix and felt himself pushed further along by just the smell. Moving his lips along the column of Dean's neck, kissing and sucking along the way, he was abruptly stopped. Hurt and insecurity crept into the forefront of his mind until Dean said, "Get the damn shirt off."

He helped Dean pull his shirt over his head and disposed of his own before encircling Dean in his arms once again. Dean turned to face him and captured his lips in a sensual dance. Sam forgot his nervousness at the beginning and slid right into making out with Dean, something he'd grown accustomed to and enjoyed immensely.

Hands wandered over scarred skin, noting the imperfections as not flaws, but beauty. It was the story of their lives and told of their adventures and losses. Through it all, they were still here.

“Dean,” Sam breathed between kisses. “Can I?”

“You can do anything, Sam.” Dean went back to running his fingers through Sam’s long hair.

Sam slid his hand down Dean's back, past his hips and lower to his hidden opening. As his finger toyed with the idea of going in, Sam said, "I want--" and stopped.

"Want what?" Dean asked. When Sam didn't answer, Dean pulled away to look at his face. "Are you blushing? I have your dick in my hand. We passed through being modest quite a ways back."

"I want us to be in."

"Huh? Yeah, Sam, put your finger in."

Sam still wasn't getting with the program. Dean untangled himself and then repeated his question, "What do you want, Sam?"

Dean wasn't upset, just a little ruffled. And, confused by Sam's behavior.

"Us." Sam spat the word out. Dean nodded to urge Sam on. "You in me and me in you."

"Okay," Dean said slowly.

"Okay? Okay what?"

"I understand what you're getting at. I just don't see why it's so important."

"You don't want to?"

"I thought we were fine with what we've been doing."

"We are."

"Then why do you want to change it up?" Dean asked.

"To be closer to you. I know it sounds stupid, but I can't really explain it."

"It makes sense. Just let me think about it, alright?"

"Sure, Dean. Yeah." Sam reached out for him and tugged him close. They were cuddling more than anything and Sam was left to wonder if he'd screwed up their relationship with his request.

***

There were engrossed in the Discovery Channel and eating chips and candy when Dean said out of the blue, "If we go ahead with this, there is no going back. It can't be undone."

Sam was quiet for a moment, trying to place what Dean was talking about as the other man stared at the television. "You and me? You want to quit us?"

"I'm just saying, right now we haven't done anything that could prevent us from trying to fit in the normal world. If you want the same kind of life you had at Stanford, you can still get it. All we've done is some messing around, nothing that couldn't be forgiven as experimenting. Anything more, we might have a damn hard time explaining."

"Do you want 'normal', Dean? Because I sure as hell don't. I want you. I thought I had you. Guess I was wrong." Sam stood and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. "How long have you been thinking that we're just temporary?"

"Sammy, I didn't say that. I want you to know how serious being together could get. It's not something you could just erase." Dean glanced at the tortured look on Sam's face. "I couldn't anyway. I wouldn't be able to pretend it didn't happen or that I wasn't invested in our relationship. I just want you to know that."

"I'm already 100% in. Did I screw something up? Make this all change for you somehow?"

"No, no. I scrambled it up in my own head. You took me by surprise the other night and my mind raced with the consequences."

"Are you okay with them? The consequences? Because I have to say that I've thought about them from the beginning and when faced with what I feel for you, have felt for you, they didn't amount to much." Sam leaned against the wall. "So where does this leave us?"

"Depends on where you want to go from here."

"I think I've made where I long to be pretty clear. What are you looking for?"

"What we've had." Dean sounded pained. "I need to know that you aren't going to just leave me."

"Haven't we had this conversation before? I'll tell you that I'm staying as many times as you need to hear it to believe it. Is that what this is about?" Dean reminded Sam of a lost little boy, so unlike the brother he'd grown up with. He sat back down beside him. "I'm here for good. You're stuck with me."

With that, the relationship was settled in Dean's heart and he knew he could freely be with Sam. He had the security that he needed.

***

Time rolled on, as it always does. Eventually, there was a late night and some alcohol involved after a hunt. Lips were loosened and feelings were free to flow. All the affection Dean had been holding back in an attempt to protect himself from Sam, seeped out.

"I've missed this," Sam whispered as his lips fluttered over Dean's and his hands worked on removing Dean's shirts. "I want this, Dean, I want you." He ran his hands up Dean's torso and felt the muscles there begin to relax. "Can I be with you?" Sam's voice was barely a whisper from next to Dean's ear.

Dean's grip on Sam's waist tightened as he thought over his answer for a moment. He buried is face in Sam's shirt and answered, "Yes."

If Sam wouldn't have been listening so hard or the air conditioning had kicked in, he never would have heard Dean's response. It was softly spoken from deep inside Dean and not one he'd be likely to repeat.

He kissed Dean's face as he slid Dean's over shirt off his shoulders. Dean gripped the hem of Sam's hoodie and pulled it over his head. Within moments, they had both shed all their clothing.

Sam's hands roamed over Dean's body as he murmured endearments and his regrets. Dean was laid out in front of him, defenseless and open. Sam wasn't going to let the opportunity pass him by.

It wasn't like Dean to be passive. After he was no longer comfortable being the center of Sam's attention, he reached for him and pulled his mouth closer for a kiss. Not just a kiss, a long kiss, one that reclaimed Sam as his once more.

Out of breath, Sam rested his head back on the pillows and allowed himself to be sprinkled with kisses until Dean mouthed his neck and began to nip and suck. When Dean reached Sam's pulse point, Sam moaned, reveling in the sensations that Dean was causing.

With his arms stretched above his head and Dean's fingers intertwined with his, Sam could only accept the assault on his senses as Dean moved his naked body against his. When Dean released one hand to reach between them and grasp them in one fist, the fingers of Sam's open hand dug into the bedding.

"I've got you, Sam. I'll get us both there."

His hand that had been on the bedding moved to clutch Dean and raked his nails down Dean's back, causing him to hiss.

"Shit, Sammy! When did you grow claws?" He chuckled before continuing his motions. "That stings, man."

It didn't take long before they had spurted all over their stomachs. After the shaking subsided, Dean laid down beside him, panting. Lying there twined together, they drifted to sleep.

***

A few days later, they took an extra day in town after a hunt. They'd had so many hunts in a row and never took time to rest. After deciding that the latest motel was the nicest they'd seen in quite some time, they decided to stay.

Dean was the first to awake. He watched his Sammy sleep. His dark bangs tousled on his pillow made him appear so young. Brushed some hair out of Sam's eyes and for the first time really, really looked at his new lover. Sam had grown up in the years that he'd been gone. The gawky teenager had filled out to a well-built man. A damn handsome one at that.

When he thought about Sam, he remembered the kid. He'd always do that. But, when he had romantic thoughts about him, Sam was his equal and not the little boy he'd watched grow up.

Sam had asked him once to move ahead in their physical relationship. Dean had hesitated but now saw that sex with Sam was not only something he wanted, but needed. He'd been adrift for so long and craved the attachment, however temporary, that was created with the girls that he'd pick up for the night. A connection like that with Sam could only be better, right?

He ran a finger down the side of Sam's face in front of his ear. Sam snuffled in his sleep and turned his head. Dean held his chuckle in and continued down his neck. When Sam had settled back in, Dean pressed his lips to Sam's sleep-warmed skin. He showed his feelings for Sam through the movements of his lips, teeth and tongue. He intended to tease Sam out of his slumber.

Gradually, Sam became aware of his surroundings and Dean. His body was already responding to Dean's administrations and his mind just had to catch up.

"You awake, Sammy?" Dean breathed against his skin.

Sam squirmed, unable to form words for what it was that he wanted.

"I think you are." Dean kept us his slow torture. His kisses revved Sam up even more until they were groping each other in an attempt to get even closer.

They were sweating and so in tune to each other's movements. Dean knew what he wanted and decided that it was the perfect time. He reached for the bottle of lube on the bedside table. He slicked up a couple fingers and gently pushed one into himself as he straddled Sam.

"Dean . . ."

"I want to . . . Sam, I want to."

Sam spread the liquid over his fingers and moved Dean's hand from underneath him. "Let me."

Dean was able to use both arms to hold himself above Sam while Sam blindly felt for the hidden opening. His eyes were locked on Dean's the whole time. The world didn't exist past the two of them.

"More," Dean pressed himself back on Sam's finger and needed another.

Sam obliged, although at a slower pace than Dean would have liked. "Have you done this before?" he asked, feeling like he should have known before they approached that point.

"Never," Dean moaned as he rocked back.

"Me neither," Sam replied. "Never wanted anyone like this but you."

"Sammy," Dean whined, urging Sam on.

Once Sam was able to slide his fingers easily in and out of Dean, he rolled them over to their sides. "How do we do this? I mean, what's the best way?"

"How should I know? I know I need to face you while we do this."

"Me, too." Sam rolled them a little further until Dean was under him. He reached one of Dean's thighs and moved it to bend his leg. He took a break to kiss Dean and make sure he was okay with how they were proceeding. "I just need some--" Sam reached for the tube that was just out of reach. Dean handed it to him so Sam could slick himself up. "Ready?"

"I'm feeling a little exposed here if we aren't going to be doing this."

Sam smiled and moved until he nudged Dean's hole. Slowly, he eased himself in as he felt Dean's body relax around him. Dean had a tense look to his face that turned into an easy smile.

"Good?" Sam asked from above him.

"Yeah."

What followed was something they couldn't have imagined and yet knew it was what they had been missing. Breathy words and touches communicated feelings that words could not express, especially words allowed in the Winchester vocabulary. It left them drained, physically and emotionally.

"I think-" Sam had to pause to swallow because of his dry throat. "I think we should do that again sometime."

"You would be thinking right now," Dean grumbled. He turned so he curled into Sam's side and covered them with the blankets. "Now, shut up and go to sleep."

"Love you, Dean."

"I know," Dean replied. A few seconds later, he responded much quieter with, "Love you, Sammy."

***

To say that it was smooth going from that point on would be a lie. There were hunts, arguments, injuries and the daily aggravations from living so closely with each other. Irritants such as Dean's music, Sam's tendency to talk something to death and their own stressors about their relationship still got under their skin.

Time passed and their ease with their new standing with each other grew. Dean no longer felt like he had to watch every move when out in public with Sam and Sam knew that public displays of affection made Dean very uncomfortable and restricted himself to bumping shoulders or other casual touches that wouldn't seem out of place to an observer. Dean would know that he meant more.

The middle of October rolled around and they both remembered the anniversaries that were coming up but neither mentioned them. They didn't have to. How could they ever forget?

While Dean used to make sure he was busy killing something evil on November second, he knew that butchering, burning and drinking booze was not going to help Sam. At least not this year.

On November first, Dean declined getting a motel room because they were short on cash (or so he said). Sam hadn't been keeping track of their credit cards so he didn't know the difference.

As always, being in the passenger seat along with any amount of exhaustion caused Sam to sleep soundly. When he awoke, it was to birds chirping and the sunrise. Dean had pulled over sometime during the night, slid in next to Sam and bundled them in their blankets. Sam rubbed his eyes as he looked over the landscape and realized why it was so familiar.

"Thought you might want to make a stop today," Dean mumbled. "Thought you'd feel better being close by in case you decided to visit Jess."

Sam's heart filled to overflowing with love for his brother that had not only taken care of him when he couldn't do it himself, but also allowed for the grief that Sam still felt and didn't have a problem with it. He didn't feel threatened in what they had, so he could encourage Sam to do whatever he needed to feel better or make peace.

He looked at Dean, still curled up with his eyes closed. "Let's get a couple more hours sleep before we go anywhere."

"Good idea," Dean grumbled as he fell back to sleep.

Sam watched the world come alive as the sun rose and realized that after a year, a whole year, he was still alive. He'd been so sure that grief over Jess could have killed him way before all those days could have passed. And, he was happy. He was surprised to realize that, even though it wasn't the same kind of contentment that he'd felt when he was at Stanford. It didn't make it any less, just a different kind.

"You know she isn't here, right?" Dean asked him as he shut off the engine in the cemetery. "I mean, her headstone is but that's all. Even if her body was buried here, she's someplace better."

"I know. It just feels like I should be here today."

"Figured that."

Sam opened his door and got out. "Aren't you coming?" he bent down to ask Dean.

Without hesitation, Dean joined Sam on his walk through the stones. For a graveyard, Dean figured it wasn't half bad. There weren't as many trees to get thrown into as there were in older ones and the location was kind of pretty.

"Are you doing okay?" Dean took Sam's hand in his as they continued down the path.

"Yeah, I think I am." Sam squeezed Dean's hand. "I'm happy."

"You are?" That was among the last things Dean had expected to hear that day.

"I've got you," Sam replied. "No matter what else I've lost, I have you. That means it will all work out okay."

Dean didn't let Sam see the smile on his face at Sam's statement. He was feeling the same and figured Sam already knew. He was intuitive like that.

"I'm here to say goodbye, Dean. I don't need to hang onto her anymore. She can be a wonderful memory and not still have such a tight grip on me."

Silent, Dean just listened.

"I want her to know how I'm doing and about us," Sam continued. "There's nothing here for her to worry about or keep her tethered to a world where she doesn't belong. I think she'll be relieved that I found love again."

"Even with me?"

"Jess was cool like that. To her, emotions didn't take into consideration the limits put on them by society. As long as I feel safe and wanted, she'd approve."

"Think you'll always feel that way?"

Sam chanced a glance in Dean's direction. "As long as I have you, I will."

The rest of their visit was silent. Sam made peace with a past he had no control over and Dean was supportive in the only way he knew how--by being there. When they left, the sun seemed brighter and the mood had lifted.

Love was love, no matter the shape or form. Sam and Dean drove out of the parking lot with newfound security in their relationship. It was sure to carry them through the coming years and their lifetimes.