Disclaimer: They so don't belong to me but if they did...
Obviously Dean had been hiding things.
It really wasn't Sam's fault. He wasn't snooping, he's been in and out of the trunk for years and had no clue there was a hidden
space. Well you know other than the weapons locker.
Sam didn't usually do car maintenance. Dean wouldn't allow him to defile his baby. However, since Sam had yet again shot his
brother, he was making the run into town to get more first aid supplies. Why was it that people put motels twenty five fucking miles
from the nearest town anyway?
So here he was on a side road changing the damn tire when he needed to be back at the motel with Dean. It had taken ten hours
this time to get Dean to pull into a motel so Sam could check his shoulder, not to mention the fact that Sam still wasn't convinced
his brother didn't have a minor concussion from the repeated blows to his face but try telling Dean that. Sam knew the only reason
Dean finally stopped and found place to stay was so that he could check Sam's burn. He only let himself be checked because he
knew that was one of the only ways to get Sam to start dealing with some of the guilt was to let him help.
Dean checked them in even though Sam tried to get him to let him do it. The minute Sam walked into the room and saw the single
king size bed Dean saw him physically relax just a little. Although Sam still had to ask him if he was sure after everything. Dean's
answer to had been to turn around and ghost his knuckles across the bruise on Sam's cheek and lean up and kiss him.
Sam had let Dean check his burn first knowing that to argue would only prolong him being able treat Dean's wounds. Once Dean was
through fussing about his burn Sam was able to get him undressed and into the shower to clean him up first before taking care of the
damage. Sam had stood behind Dean washing his hair just soaking in the feeling of still being able to touch his brother, not only
because Dean was still alive, no thanks to Sam, but because apparently Dean still wanted him as his lover. Sam reverently soaped
his brothers body taking special care around his wounded shoulder, blotting around it with the cloth removing dried blood as carefully
as he could. Dean was almost dead on his feet, and there's a word that Sam never, ever wanted to use in the same sentence with his
brothers name again as long as he lived. Sam had quickly finished rinsing the soap off his brother, helping him out of the tub and then
towelling him dry and then himself before helping Dean into his boxers and settling him on the bed. Sam had grabbed the first aid kit
and set about cleaning and dressing Dean's shoulder before he tended to cuts on Dean's face from Sam's fists. Dean sat quietly
watching him as he worked.
"Sam it's not your fault" Dean said.
"Sure feels like it to me, not to mention the evidence on your face is mirrored on my knuckles." Sam's voice shook with the memory of being
able to see and feel the blows but unable to stop them.
"You weren't you and you know it" Dean quietly stated.
"Maybe not but I should have been able to stop." Sam replied. How was he supposed to explain to Dean that although he felt remorse for the
man he had killed it was nothing compared to the guilt and self loathing he carried for the things he had done to his brother.
"You didn't even try to stop me. How can you even stand for me to touch you after everything I did and said to you?" Sam asked shifting his
gaze back to the supplies he was putting up. He couldn't look into Dean's eyes without completely breaking down and this was so not about
him right now.
"Because it wasn't you Sam. I know you and that wasn't my brother or the man that I love. Nothing you could ever do can make me stop
Sam leaned up and gently kissed Dean's lips and then his forehead before gently laying Dean back and helping him under the covers. Sam
cleaned up the first aid kit and told Dean he was going to run into town and get more supplies and some food. Dean was almost completely
out, exhausted from the past week of no sleep and stress plus the pain meds that Sam had given him before their shower, but he managed
to keep his eyes open long enough to tell Sam to keep his damn phone on and he better be back in a couple of hours or his ass was fucked.
And you know that really shouldn't have made Sam hard, but damn if he hadn't felt like he could've drilled concrete.
So it really wasn't Sam's fault that he threw the jack into the trunk with a little more force than was technically necessary, and that said jack
slammed into the back of the trunk, apparently hitting something in just the right way for it to pop loose a small very well hidden compartment.
Now Sam being Sam not only noticed this new novelty but decided it was his responsibility to make sure he hadn't damaged anything, really.
So when Sam reached in and pulled out several packets of information he was not prepared for what he was about to read.