This chapter is the reason for the rating.

So I got hit with mass amounts of projects to do this semester. I thank everyone who had patience while reading this. I was really struggling to find time to write.

I hope this last chapter was worth the stupidly long wait. I'm really nervous about it. It's only the second time I've tried to write a scene like this so I hope it turned out okay.

Thanks to all who followed this story and I'll be making updates on 'Permanence' periodically.

Ch. 11

He was ready to do it. He really was. He knew, deep down, that if he cured Crowley he was going to die. He just knew. So when Dean bursts through the door and tells him to stop, he does. Clings to that last hope that maybe, just maybe, there was another way.

Then Dean just states the obvious. "You finish this trial, you're dead, Sam."

The 'duh' rattles around in his head. It's "So?" that comes out. And he realizes that he means it. He's ready to die again. For humanity, but more importantly for his brother. Because he took on these trials knowing it wasn't going to be pretty. He wants Dean to want to live because he's done trying. All he ever does is screw up. Any time Dean ever trusts him with something. No wonder Dean hated him when he came back from Purgatory.

Sam is shaking by the time Dean interrupts his tirade, heart freezing in his chest at the raw look in his brother's eyes when he tells him that, "There is nothing, past or present that I would put in front of you!" And then he asks him to believe him. And honestly? He wants to so bad, he might just be ready to turn his back on the world for his brother.

The brother whom he failed again and again, who wants him to chose life. The brother who has never let him down when it counted. The brother who has taken care of him his whole life. The brother who… who just might still love him. He wants to believe so bad. Wants to do the selfish thing for once and save himself so he can see where this goes.

So he does.

"How do I stop?"

It's when they finally get back to the bunker that Dean approaches Sam about something other than their new troubles. With Ezekiel in there now, he's very self-conscious about what he says. But some things really just need to be said. He nervously steps up behind his brother. "Sammy?"

Sam looks up at him from where he's rifling through pages. "Dean." He looks questioningly into his brother's eyes.

"Before we get into another years long battle, I wanna say a few things." His hands slide into his pockets.

Sam eyes the nervous way Dean is standing. He stands too. "C'mon. I'm sure Kevin doesn't care to hear any of our conversations not concerning him."

Dean gives him a grateful smile, leading the way to his room. Something catches in his chest when Sam immediately sits on his bed, making himself at home.

Dean stands in front of him, looking down at his feet for a minute. Clears his throat. Takes a breath.

"This talking thing is really hard for you, isn't it?"

Dean sighs, giving Sam a withered look.

Sam bites his lip. "Sorry. Go ahead."

Dean shakes his head, allowing a half grin. Appreciates the tension breaker. It helps. "You trusted me."

Sam blinks. Nods. He gives a crooked, self-deprecating smile when he looks up. "I figured it was time I trusted you when it counted. Considering the other times."

Dean huffs out a dry laugh. "Yeah well, I'm glad." He scratches the back of his neck. Takes a step forward. "It's gotta suck though. Doing all that… going through all that just to turn back. Leave the world riddled with demons."

Sam nods. It's his turn to look down now. "I guess I felt like being selfish for once. I just… I wanted to do the right thing. And that always seems to go with listening to you." He glances up.

Dean walks the rest of the way over now, sitting next to Sam on the bed. "I don't know if it was really the right thing."

Sam huffs. "Me neither. But we've taken care of worse."

Dean looks over to him. "Jury is still out on that one."

Sam chuckles. Makes eye contact. "We good?"

Dean nods. "Yeah. I just… wanted to make sure you were holding up. Don't want you out to save the world again without making sure you were okay."

Sam takes a chance and reaches out and sink his fingers into Dean's hair, smiling softly at the way it makes his brother almost purr. Not many people know that about Dean. He finds himself lucky that he does. "My world looks just fine to me." He'll blame his brain to mouth filter for that one.

Dean's eyes snap open, locking on the raw truth in Sam's face. He blinks when Sam looks away, almost grimacing.

"Sorry. Ignore that. Slipped." He scoots back on the bed to lie down.

Dean follows him, frowning. "Why should I ignore that? Did you mean it?"

Sam sighs, sad eyes meeting Dean's as his brother lies on the pillow next to his. "Of course I did. You've always been my world, Dean. And the fact that you don't know that shows just how shitty of a brother I've been."

Dean frowns, reaching out to grip Sam's arm. "You've been fine. We've both been crappy to each other. But recently… I think we finally told each other some things we needed to get off our chest." He smiles a little.

Sam smiles back. "Yeah. I do feel a little better."

Dean chuckles. His hand moves up to Sam's face, fingers tracing the slightly sunk in line of his cheek bone. As soon has he gets the chance, he's taking his turn to research. He's going to come up with the perfect diet to get Sam healthy again. He watches Sam's eyes fall closed at the touch, struck with how beautiful his brother still is. Even as tired and worn as he is now. He takes a deep breath. "I would really like to kiss you," he murmurs.

Sam's eyes open, a mix of hope and shock shining in them. He bites his bottom lip. "We okay?"

Dean knows what he means. Remembers back. We need to make sure we are okay… Dean smiles. "Sam. I meant what I said in that church. And for once, you chose me. You didn't choose the best decision for the world. You didn't chose to keep going even when I told you to stop. And I understand now. I hurt you, accusing you of not caring because you didn't pull me out of Purgatory. And we're both going to have to work through a lot. But for right now? We're perfect."

The smile that spreads across Sam's face even includes dimples. Then it disappears. He reaches out, resting his hand on Dean's neck. His eyes are serious and locked on Dean's. "I never, not once, went a day without missing you," he murmurs.

Dean offers a soft smile. "I know. I always knew. I was just too angry to think about that." He reaches out to slide his fingers back into Sam's hair, pulling his brother to him with his hand curved gently around his skull. He leans down. "You sure you're up for this right now?" he asks against Sam's lips.

Sam chuckles. "I think I'll manage." He closes the distance.

They haven't kissed since that one day in the house that Dean reached out. And before that, since before Dean went to Purgatory. Suffice it to say that it feels pretty damn good. "God, I missed you," Dean murmurs.

Sam lets out a sound he will forever defend is not a whimper, opening his mouth to his brother as Dean immediately goes about relearning every single inch. "You too," he gets out between gasps, pulling Dean over him. "God, Dean."

"Sammy." He chuckles when he feels Sam's hands running over him, almost frantically pulling at his clothes but getting nowhere. Then he freezes. Ezekiel.


Dean curses this whole situation. He can't do this right now. Not with…

Sam's hands start to retreat. "I… sorry. I thought…"

"Easy. Shhh." He pulls back, kneeling over Sam to make eye contact. "You didn't do anything wrong. I just…" he scrambles for an excuse, "you just got out of the hospital man."

Sam sighs. "I feel fine, Dean."

Dean sighs in return. He really doesn't know what to do about this. He really missed this. He want's this so bad it hurts. But… "Sam…" He tenses when he feels Sam change, stiffen.

"I can retreat if you'd like." It's suddenly Ezekiel looking up at Dean. "I won't be aware of anything but keeping Sam healthy until morning."

Dean blinks down at him, shifting. It's a little awkward kneeling over his brother's body with the angel inside. "You… don't care?"

Ezekiel tilts his head. "Being in Sam's head, it's hard to form any arguments against his reasons this is okay."

Dean stares. Then chuckles. "That sounds like Sam."

"He misses you. I think it'll be good for him. If not physically, mentally."

Dean sighs. "Fine. Just… stay out of his head."

Ezekiel gives him a look that ends up a mix of Sam's bitch face and reminiscent of Cas's 'stupid human' glare. An angel trait, he supposes. "I am fully capable of separating us." Then Sam's body relaxes, he blinks, and it's Sam again.

Dean looks down at him. This character changing is going to give him whiplash. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asks, leaning down over him.

Sam is right on track where he left off. "Really sure. C'mon, Dean. Missed this. Want this so bad."

Dean gives him a mischievous grin. "Alright." He sits up on Sam's hips to pull off his shirt. He smiles down at his brother as Sam's hands move gently up his stomach, straining to stretch up to run over Dean's shoulders before falling back down to his waist.

"Maybe I can't do this," Sam sighs, smiling fondly, yet sadly. "I suddenly got very tired." He shrugs. "Must have finally caught up to me."

Dean's smile falls a little. No, Ezekiel just pulled away. Strained the connection keeping Sam strong. "You want to sleep?"

Sam huffs. "No. I want you. But I'm just not sure…"

Dean lets out a relieved and exasperated sigh, smiling back down at Sam. "Then just let me do the work, Sam." He leans down to meet his lips, chuckling when he pulls back and Sam pouts at the separation. He shifts, letting himself fall down between Sam's legs. He does a deliberate grind, grinning when Sam lets out a deep groan and grips his arms. "Feel good, Sammy?"

"Missed you," Sam gasps. "God, I missed you."

Dean leans down, mouth running along his jaw as a hand moves up Sam's shirt. He moves down as he pushes the shirt up and spans the warm skin with his hands, eyes falling closed when they move over Sam's prominent ribs. "Need to get you eating again, little brother," he sighs, lips tracing the path of his hands.

Sam shudders. "I feel better. So much better than when this started. I'll get better. Promise."

Dean opens his eyes to aim a soft smile up at his brother. "Good. That's so good." He gently nudges Sam's arms up so he can slide the shirt over his head and throw it on the floor. He places one last kiss on Sam's collar bone, teeth nipping right after. He grins at the sound Sam lets out. "Didn't know you could squeak like that, Sammy."

Sam huffs. "Shut up." He grins, letting it drop a second later when Dean sits back and his face falls slightly when his eyes finally take in the total damage the last months have done to him. He flinches, starting to curl up on himself.

Dean stops him though, leaning back over him to press a heartbreakingly soft kiss along Sam's collar bone. He makes sure to reassure his brother. "Always gorgeous, Sammy." He moves down, pressing another soft kiss in the dip between his ribs. And again along the bottom edge of them before tracing the old scars from that case with his tongue. "Just hurts me to see you like this." He kisses Sam's hipbone before reaching up to undo his jeans.

Sam tenses. "W-we don't have to-"

Dean surges up, stopping that maddening thought with a kiss. "Stop hearing only half of what I say," he growls against Sam's lips.

Sam shudders at the tone. "Sorry. Just… I don't think I look any better."

Dean shakes his head, sitting up to balance on his knees so he can span Sam's ribs with his hands. He looks down in the light of the dim motel lamp at the dips of Sam's body. He hasn't lost much muscle mass. It's just his ribs and hip bones. They're more prominent than usual, obvious in their unhealthy nature, even with Ezekiel's help. But Sam's body will never be less than beautiful.

"Not changing my mind," Dean murmurs, fingers tracing sigils into Sam's skin as he leans down. "Not in the slightest bit deterred." He punctuates this with a grind of hips, hands moving back to slide under the back of Sam's loose jeans.

Sam's breath hitches, feeling fully the hardness of his brother against him. No, Dean is definitely not deterred. He helps Dean shove his jeans down, boxers along with them, kicking them off when they get below his knees and reaches for the button of Dean's. He looks up when Dean takes his hands in his.

"I said, let me do all the work."

Sam feels his smile come back. "By all means." He waves Dean off, letting himself fall back to the pillows behind him to watch.

Dean chuckles, shuffling back to stand by the bed. "You're enjoying this helpless thing too much."

Sam grins. Shrugs. He feels some confidence come back as he watches Dean's eyes move over him as he rids himself of his jeans. He moves his hand down his stomach, taking himself in hand and going for a leisurely pull that shouldn't have the effect on him it does. The groan that punches out of him surprises himself. It's been a long time though. He hasn't exactly felt up to this lately. And it's been even longer since he's been with Dean. The anticipation hits him hard then. "Dean."

Dean watches Sam touch himself, heat in his eyes. When Sam gasps out his name, he makes quick work of his jeans before grabbing the lube and immediately fits himself between Sam's legs, breath catching at the perfect way they fit. Just like every other time. "Sam."

"C'mon, man."

Dean chuckles. "Impatient." He slicks his fingers.

"Shut up and-" Sam gasps back, sucking in a sharp breath at the first touch of his brother's finger. "Oh god!"

Dean watches in awe at the responsiveness he's met with as he slowly and patiently gets Sam ready. "It really has been a while," he murmurs.

Sam nods frantically, hands gripping the sheets.

"No one else ever touch you here but me?" Dean growls possessively. He knows the answer. He just want's to hear it. He slides in a second finger.

Sam's head shakes erratically back and forth. "Not even me," he gasps, letting out a cry when Dean curls his fingers and hits his prostate dead on. "Dean, now!"

Dean growls deep in his chest when he hears that Sam didn't even touch himself there when he was gone. "So good for me," he murmurs. He ignores Sam's pleas, working up to three fingers before he finally slicks himself up. It's been too long to half-ass the prep now. "Ready, Sammy?"

"God, I hate you."

Dean chuckles. "No you don't."

Sam huffs. "I'm ready. Do it." His hands reach up to clench in Dean's back. "Need it. Need you."

Dean leans down to give him a gentle kiss. "Love you." As Sam pulls in a sharp, surprised gasp, Dean pushes in. He doesn't stop until he's buried to the hilt, letting out a groan at the hitched breaths and whimpers Sam is letting out. The rush of being the one to pull those sounds from his strong and defiant brother hits again. It's been way too long.

"Dean. Move. Please." Sam's hands scrabble at his back, leaving pink lines in their wake. Like he can't get Dean close enough. "God, please."

Dean slowly pulls out, his own groan mingling with Sam's as he feels every single inch. "Sammy. Shit. So tight."

Sam sinks his teeth lightly into Dean's shoulder, clenching his eyes shut against the onslaught of sensations. When Dean pushes back in, his cry is muffled by Dean's shoulder.

Dean grunts as he bottoms out again. "Uh uh. I wanna hear you." He leans back slightly, waiting until Sam lets go before finally picking up speed. "No thin motel walls. Sound won't travel from this room. Wanna hear you lose it for me."

Sam whimpers. Lets his head fall back. "Embarrassing," he gets out before another deep groan, hands clenching again in Dean's back. He suddenly feels a wave of heat hit him at the thought of leaving his fingerprints on his brother, causing him to let out a growl and sink whatever nails he has into Dean's skin.

Dean grunts, a cry making it's way out as he struggles to breathe through the new waves of lust at Sam's possessiveness, the pain mixing with pleasure, and the noises Sam is making. "Not embarrassing," he huffs, slowing down again to make Sam whine. He grins. "Adorable. Amazing. Reducing the big bad hunter to this. The fact that you let me have this. I can't even…" he trails off, picking up speed again. Watches in fascination as Sam throws his head back.

"God, Dean!"

"That's it. Lose it for me, baby boy."

Sam lets out a sharp cry and shudders at that. It's been sooo long since Dean's called him that. Before so much of the crap that's happened. To hear that again… He finally knows what redemption feels like. He finally lets go for the first time in what seems like forever, cries escalating.

Dean has to hold himself back from losing it like a teenager when Sam finally drops all inhibitions. Teeth clenched and eyes drinking in every detail, he renews his mission in life to pulling every single sound of pleasure he can from Sam. Somehow, he's always thought that it fit that Sam was a screamer. He feels things so intensely, there's no way he didn't have an outlet for those feelings during sex.

"Dean! I can't... I need…"

"I gotchya, Sammy." A quick change in angle and Sam is suddenly struck down to one syllable words.

"Shit! God! Dean!"

Prostate found. "Gotcya," Dean grunts in triumph, letting out his own whimpery pants as he feels himself getting too close to his release. "Sammy. Too close. Gonnna…" Before he can even reach to help make sure Sam comes first, Sam makes a sharp sound and tenses beneath him.

Letting out a hoarse cry, Sam's back bows as his release surprises him. Overtakes him with an intensity he's missed for too long.

"Oh shit," Dean hisses, Sam coming without being touched hitting him hard enough to send him over the edge sooner than he was expecting. He sinks in deep, seemingly trying to get even deeper as he shivers through each wave, hips grinding into the back of Sam's thighs. He gasps when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. "Damn, Sammy!"

Sam's teeth sink into Dean's shoulder as an aftershock hits him almost as bad as the actual orgasm at Dean's release. He whimpers through it, arms wrapped around his brother's ribs to keep him close enough to feel his heartbeat against his own chest.

"Shit," Dean gasps, arms starting to shake from holding himself up.

Sam lets out a groan, releasing the hold he had on Dean's shoulder. The dark purple imprint, some spots with flecks of red, stands out in stark contrast. "Sorry," he rasps, leaning up to kiss it.

Dean huffs. "It's fine. Not the worst I've had." He winks. "Gonna pull out. Okay?"

Sam nods tiredly. He lets out one last guttural groan as Dean pulls out and falls to his side next to him.

"We should get cleaned up."

Sam throws his arm over Dean, pulling him to lay on his chest. "Sleep now. Shower in the morning." His fingers skim reverently over smooth, freckled skin. He's always found that funny. Big bad Dean has freckles. He smiles softly to himself.

Dean huffs, too tired to put up a fight. Sam's worse off than he is anyway. "Alright. But don't bitch to me in the morning."


Dean lets his eyes fall closed.

"Love you too," Sam murmurs.

Dean sighs. "Goodnight, Francis."

He feels Sam press one of his girly kisses to the top of his head before going limp. And honestly? He's missed that too much to care. There's new shit about to hit the fan. And maybe things won't always be this okay. But they're back on track, better than ever. Things will work out. "I hope," he whispers to himself before finally following his brother into sleep.