Title: Us

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Sam/Dean Wincest, Mpreg, sequel to ‘Don’t Stop Believing’. Starting a family is even more fraught with trials and tribulations than normal when you’re a Winchester.

Feedback: Is forever love.

A/N: So a few people wanted to see a continuation of this ‘verse and here it is! I was going to wait a while to post this but I’m horribly impatient. This is a multi-chapter story. So there’s lots more coming up!

1. No Bubbles

‘Don’t blink, don’t close your eyes and most of all don’t apologize. It’s me who’s got the demons to wrestle now.’ – Sherwood.

Sam doesn’t know what he’s been expecting but two hours and four pregnancy tests later (so maybe Sam picked up a little... excess just to be sure this time), Dean looks no different, just worn out, confused and kind of skirting dangerously close to happiness. Sam knows that his brother is checking his expression and trying to mirror it, trying to act all subservient and careful. He wonders vaguely how long this will last. Dean is leaning nervously up against the motel room wall, glazed eyes gazing forward, while Sam soaks up the fact that yes, there is no way to get around this.

He got his brother pregnant. How screwed up and wonderful is that?

He feels this sick, driving urge to jump up and hug Dean, but he’s not sure it would be welcome, not when Dean is looking like this, so distant.

“Are... are you happy?” Sam asks finally.

Dean blinks and murmurs, “Hmm?” in a low, sweet, rumbling voice. It’s all the lazy, Sunday afternoon sex in the world, the way Dean is speaking. That voice so easily pulls Sam helplessly back into memories of... Well, of how exactly Dean got pregnant in the first place.

Pulling himself together, Sam repeats, “Are you happy?”

“Oh... yeah,” Dean nods and smiles. “How could I be unhappy exactly, Sammy, how could I be?”

“I don’t... I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“Everything about us is weird.”

He knows that. He knows that this is a dream come true for Dean, a family, he’s going to have a family, someone who won’t leave him for at least sixteen years. Sam may not be the most sensitive person, but even he can see that. “But...”

“You said you’d be okay with this. You said.” Dean’s voice rises in pitch and volume and forces Sam to sit back and stop acting like such an ass. It’s not like he’s intentionally freaking out but god, this is a lot to take in. Even though he’s said he wants this, that this will make him happy, that doesn’t stop his stomach from flipping, his mind from racing.

What the hell are they going to do? How do they handle a kid? If it even gets that far, it’s not unlikely that Dean won’t be able to complete the actual pregnancy, he’s not exactly the typical candidate.

Sam jumps up, spurred on by his trembling thoughts. “Sit down. You want some water?”

Dean eyes him quizzically. “Um, sure, but I can get it.”

“No. I will. Just sit down.”

“Okay...” After a moment of hesitation, Dean pushes himself off the wall and Sam wants to tell him to move more delicately, especially when he practically leaps onto the bed. It creaks and he smiles widely, like a goofy little kid. Sam smiles back weakly and this feels better, him standing and Dean sitting there, looking up at him sort of expectantly.

What does Dean want him to say?

“Water,” Sam mutters and turns to go to the bathroom, run it out the faucet like they always do. That’s when he’s struck with doubt. “I’ll go buy some.”

“Buy water?” Dean directs the question at his back incredulously.

Sam cringes at his tone. “Yeah, well, it’ll be all... filtered and clean.”

“If you want to go out alone, you can take the car keys. I won’t be... whatever about it.”

The truth is that, yeah, Sam could use some alone time but the thought of leaving his brother by himself right now is beyond comprehension. They’re in this together, like it or not. And Sam does... like it. He’s just suddenly very scared, thinking up all the things that could go wrong. If Dean loses the baby, what will he do? He’ll probably go into meltdown mode and Sam won’t be much help if that happens. The only logical conclusion is to take very special care of Dean, make sure he doesn’t do too much physical stuff.

It occurs to Sam that that includes hunting. Hell; that is hunting. He can’t take Dean out on every random hunt now; there are more important things to consider. Dean’s life is the most important thing. And the life inside him. Thinking about this, Sam turns into a wall of nervous energy and he wants to run, but he knows he can only run towards Dean. There isn’t enough room for that so he turns back around and shifts awkwardly on the balls of his feet like he’s squaring up to someone or something really big.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he says after he realizes that Dean’s waiting for him to reply with something, anything, “I want to be with you. But you need to drink something. You haven’t exactly been taking good care of yourself these past few weeks, have you?”

Dean bobs his head with that same very unsure; and now guilty, look. “I guess not. Sammy... how about you sit next to me? I’m not gonna up and die of dehydration if you just relax for a coupla minutes.”

Sam glances around and gets an urge to pour salt around their bed, like they do every single night, like they have to. But neither of them is sleeping right now, they’re awake and alert, so why’s he getting these impulses? Both of them are perfectly capable of defending themselves against anything that might go bump in the night, especially with the glaring overhead light flickering down at them. Nothing dramatic has changed in the past hour; Dean hasn’t morphed into a weak little child. Why can’t Sam believe that?

“Sam,” Dean says his name sharply, “sit down and stop acting so weird.”

“Sorry,” Sam sits down like the bed might eat him. He lets his hands do what they want, which seems to be cracking his knuckles a whole lot, which is Dean’s thing, he used to be a compulsive knuckle cracker in the days leading up to Sam’s high school graduation, but it is making his older brother wince right now. “I’m not trying to act weird.”

Dean grins and murmurs, “No shit,” then looks down at his own legs. He’s pushed himself way back on the bed so he’s almost leaning against the headboard, but not quite. Holding his body up with one hand, Dean reaches over and tentatively runs his free hand against Sam’s hair. “I know you said this would make you happy. But if it’s not... if it’s too strange... I’ll do what you want me to.”

Not comprehending this at all, Sam says, “What do you mean, what I want?”

“I mean, Sammy,” averting his gaze, Dean stares at the other side of the room, out of the dirty window and into the darkness of the night, “if you want me to... don’t make me say it.”

“You’re gonna have to.”

“If you want me to get it seen to, I will.”

“Get it...” Sam feels himself flush red as soon as he understands what Dean’s implying, trying to say it without saying it. He can’t even say it, he realizes. That tells Sam how much his brother could actually follow through. “You’re talking about killing our baby. Am I right?”

Dean doesn’t say anything. That tells Sam a lot.

He can hear all the logical arguments in favour of this going through his head, that it’s not even really a baby yet, that it would make their lives easier, that it’s a good thing to have the option, even though Sam has no idea where they could go to get it done. Maybe Dean would do it... no, Sam can’t even think about it. “You think I’d want you to do that? Dean. Dean! You know me better than that. I didn’t think you’d ever think that about me.”

“Didn’t think you’d go off to college, either,” Dean whispers and looks down.

“Don’t start...”

“I’m not looking for an argument, Sammy. I’m just saying.”

Just saying something you know will piss me off, Sam thinks almost viciously and then looks at how Dean looks right now. Seeing how Dean is all laid out like he’s showing how open he is, how honest, makes Sam think about how scared he must be. This is a scary enough situation for Sam to be in but Dean... Dean’s the one who is actually pregnant; he’s the one who’s going to have to go through it, all the physical stuff as well as the emotional side of it. Sam moves his hand slowly across the bed so it rests on his brother’s leg. He slips his hand between Dean’s thighs and squeezes comfortingly.

“I am happy,” Sam says softly, hearing the truth and conviction in his tone, “I’m really, really happy.” Never mind that he’s not even twenty-three yet, never mind that this is his brother he’s talking to, never mind that their family business doesn’t exactly accommodate children – Sam lets himself forget all of that and begins to imagine how perfect his life could be if he just starts to see how half full his glass is. “We’re gonna make this happen.”

“It’s already happening. We’ve just gotta make it work.” Dean looks at his own body again. “This is some... this is some freaky ass stuff, man. I don’t know if I’m cut out for...”

“Motherhood?”

Dean’s head jerks up and he scowls at Sam so intensely that it looks like there’s a slap across the back of the head coming. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters, and he has this glint in his eye that tells Sam he’s not really that pissed about it.

“Come on, I can see it now,” Sam continues. It helps to lighten the situation. “You are obviously going to be the mommy. That’s been biologically proven already.”

“Biologically... none of this should be happening.”

“Screw that.”

“Get you, college boy. Throwing your logic out the window?”

“It was bound to happen one day, hanging round with you so much.”

“I’m a bad influence,” Dean agrees, but he looks less than pleased about it, “I’ll have to tell Dad.”

“We’ll have to tell him. Both of us.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble. It’s my fault; anyway, I’m the one who kept telling you we didn’t need to use any protection because we’re related. Yeah,” Dean frowns, “that sounded a lot less warped in my head. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Dean. And what are we, five?” Sam shrugs, pretends like tension isn’t knotting his back. “How could I be in any more trouble with Dad? Stop trying to shelter me.”

Dean smirks and says, “Habit of a lifetime, kiddo. I’m not gonna quit now.”

“Then you’ve at least got to let me handle you a little.”

“Handle me?”

“You know, don’t try and be all macho about this,” when Sam says this he knows he might as well be telling a chicken not to cluck and, from the look he gets, Dean knows this, too. There’s no way that Dean is going to go for several months of bed rest, there’s no way he’s going to let Sam pick up the slack just so he can have a healthy pregnancy.

Healthy... is there such a thing as a healthy male pregnancy? It will be best for everyone involved if Sam does some research on this; although he’s not sure how many other guys have gotten themselves in the family way. Dean can’t be the first, can he? It’s not just Sam’s special-ness, right? It’s something else. It has to be something to do with Dean. For all I know, you’re an alien. That’s what Dean said to him the first time he took the goddamn test, the one that was wrong. If it hadn’t been wrong, Sam thinks he might have run screaming out the door because he wasn’t ready then. Even though it was only weeks ago, he feels older. He feels sort of ready to start a family.

What if Sam is an alien? What if he’s something entirely non-human? He doesn’t voice these thoughts aloud because Dean is just starting to look calm and comfortable and like this isn’t all insane. Sam doesn’t want to freak him out all over again. Sam is going to learn how to carry these questions on his back without troubling his brother at all.

“In conclusion,” Dean says brightly, out of nowhere, “I think I can drink from the faucet and not die or anything. You’re out of your mind if you think you can Bubble Boy me for over half a year.”

“Where’d you think I could pick up one of those giant bubbles?”

Dean slaps him across the arm. “Shut up.”

Sam makes his face really serious. “You think I’m kidding?” He sees Dean’s face fall into a curious frown for a moment, not quite sure whether or not to take this as seriously as Sam is presenting it; then he breaks into a big, sun kissed smile.

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny.”

“Okay then, no bubbles.” It’s only then that Sam dares to put his arms around Dean for a hug which represents everything he can’t put into words: I love you so damn much. Dean, you’re so freakin’ smart, how’d you pull this shit off? Thank you for this chance.

Dean stiffens against this. “Dude, what are you doing?”

“I’m... uh... I’m hugging you.”

“Why?”

“Because...” Sam hesitates, feeling his misstep, “because it seemed like a good time to slip it in there.”

“Christ, Sammy, I’m pregnant. I’m not a girl. Get off me,” Dean rolls his eyes and gets to his feet, leaving Sam staring back up at him, just like he has for a majority of his life, “damn, I need to eat. Could you eat? I could eat. And I swear to god, try and hug me again and I’ll exorcise your emo ass.”