Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Pilot
Summary: You live in a reality besides their own.
Warnings: wincest, slight sexual content, angst
Beta: to kentucka thanks for the first beta and to kaijawest cookies for... agreeing to disagree. You two made it readable in the first place! hugs
Author's Note: I said it before and I'll say it again, The Tea Party is the best soundtrack for writing spn angst!fic. Only get's better when you combine it with Jimmy Eat World.

Their Rules Don't Apply (Dean's POV)

You live in a reality besides their own. Their nightmares are your waking world.

The risks you take, the battles you fight, you do it for them, you do it for yourself and because someone has to.

What you know only a few others share and it makes for a very small world to live in.

You try to get them to see, just so they will see you, too.

They call you delusional. They call you mental. They call you a liar.

Now you lie. Because that's all they expect from you.

No one wants the truth.

Still they don't let you do your job. At every corner they wait for you, throwing stones in your path.

You can't do that! Who do you think you are! Don't just do as you please!

Yet you don't remember when last you did something you really wanted to do. You can't remember the last time you had fun without watching out for what lives in the darkness, the last time you went through the day without dreading the night to come.

But you are only human, too. (Am I?) Made of flesh and blood. Mortal and with limits.

You don't want to break. You don't want to die at 26 and when the day finally comes you don't want to die alone.

That's why you seek him out again. You know you can't do the job alone anymore, can't continue living without him in this desolate world.

There's relief washing through you when he agrees, so strong you almost choke on it.

His presence is balm to your soul. Even if you would never say so to his face. Because saying it out loud means admitting truths to him – and yourself - you never want to acknowledge.

Now that he's at your side again, you can sleep through the night – or day for that matter. You stop watching your back so much and instead start watching his. You worry more about him than the monsters lurking on the way ahead. That's how things used to be, that's how things are meant to be. Finally something feels right again and like there could be a purpose to your life. More than just a fight with no end and a future that only exists in a dream between nightmares.

When he touches you the first time, touches you like no brother should touch another, you feel like you fell down the rabbit hole. You look for signs of possession, of evil having a hand in this, mocking you, torturing you with a piece of heaven you know should never be yours.

The first time he kisses you like only your brother who's known you all his life can kiss you, you tell yourself to take what you can get and hell be damned.

He leans into you and trusts you with his life. (But not mine.) He knows how much you care for him and in return lets you see how much he cares for you. He guards your sleep as you guard his. Lets you watch over him because he knows you need to and because it makes him feel safe as well.

Like his presence makes you feel safe – and whole again.

Days go by, then weeks, followed by months and still it feels right. The Darkness still at bay, only rearing its ugly head in the form of apparitions you slay every night – and sometimes at day – together.

You start believing in it. For the first time in your life you believe in something other than your own death.

When you look at him, into his eyes, you see your own thoughts thrown back at you. The same fears and hopes and finally the same glimmer of certainty.

Then they stab you in the back.

They call you monster. They call you evil. Less than human. Rapist.

Because in their world brothers do not hold hands like lovers do. Brothers don't kiss each other on the lips with tongue and teeth and pleasure tainting the innocence. Brothers don't show their love with touches of skin on skin, with caresses along young flesh, golden and firm, drawing moans of wanting and wishing.

In their world brothers don't love each other like lovers do.

In their world men don't love each other like man and woman do.

They accuse you of breaking the rules.

You hesitate, doubt yourself and your right to that piece of heaven which might actually be hell.

What if the protector became the abuser? What if you are the true monster in the end?

Then he looks at you. Calls you an idiot, with a mocking smile adorning his lips. Since when do you, the teller of lies and half truths, believe in other's falsities?

And you see, fairy tales and myths have more verity in them than any of their words.

You don't live in their world nor do they want you to.

So you stand side by side, you and your brother. He, whom you love more than anything else and who loves you back just as much. He, who fights with you against the evil that comes at you - day in, night out.

You know what's right, you know who's wrong.

You stand there, facing them. You are not afraid, nor unsure and not backing off - no matter what kind the monsters might be.

And you tell them:

"Your rules don't apply."