Chapter Five

‘thoughts’

Warnings: some violence, kissing, swearing, sap.

A soft groan left Dean's throat as he turned onto his side and was hit with a beam of direct sunlight. He scrunched his face up and buried his face in his pillow, blocking out the invasive light as he tried to go back to sleep. The bed suddenly shifted and a warm face pressed into his neck as a strong arm wrapped around his chest and held him tightly. He noted the longer hairier legs that were entwined with his own even as he held onto the arm that was hugging him close to the strong muscular body behind him. He couldn’t remember if he had gone out the night before and had brought back a lover, but from the feel of it he had indulged in his infrequent need for male company.

He shifted again and grimaced into the pillow as he felt the sticky mess that was dried on his ass, thighs, and inside his ass. Obviously he’d also ‘indulged’ in his very rare fit of wanting it up the ass...He rubbed his face into his pillow and peered up just a bit blearily as he felt the other man move his arm above his head. He frowned as he saw a tattoo that looked a lot like Sam’s demon binding scar and wondered if this guy was someone he had related too.

He stopped though as he saw the burn mark that was intersecting the ‘tattoo’. Only one person had that mark and he was *indeed* related to him. He stiffened and sat up abruptly, looking down at himself and at the bed before turning his head gradually to find himself gazing into Sam’s sleep filled eyes as his brother was jolted awake from Dean's rapid movements. Memories of the previous night suddenly crashed over Dean as he looked down at his brother’s naked body with horror and realized that what he had feared the most had indeed happened.

Sam sat up quickly as he saw the panic, disgust, and horror growing in his brother’s eyes and reached for his brother. “Dean, wait...let me explain...”

“Oh god...” was all Dean managed in a small voice before he was scrambling off of the bed, ripping the sheets and Sam’s hands off of him as he stumbled to the bathroom and threw up what was left of the other night’s dinner after barely making it to the toilet. His thoughts were as chaotic as his stomach while he heaved, sobbed, and choked on his curses, unable to stop the tears of self loathing and pure disgust from rolling down his flushed cheeks. He continued to hurl until there was nothing but bile suffocating him. He trembled as a cool hand brushed along his neck before a wet washcloth wiped his forehead and he could only gag and sob into the toilet bowl as he tried to weakly bat his brother away. He eventually was able to speak and he whispered a guttural, “Get the fuck away from me, Sammy,” before he gagged again and clung to the porcelain bowl.

“No...you need me right now,” Sam replied gently as he ran the washcloth down Dean’s sweat slick neck and back, causing more shivers and shudders to wrack his brother’s body. “Dean...it’s ok...it’s going to be ok,” he murmured as Dean worked to control himself.

After a bit, Dean was able to stop heaving and collapsed to the side, leaning heavily against the cold bathtub as he stared blurrily through his tears and sweat at the wall under the sink. He heard the toilet flush and looked up to find Sam standing and filling a small plastic cup with water, which was placed in front of him solicitously. Dean took it and used the water to swish his mouth out before spitting the remaining vomit into the toilet and sitting back while covering his eyes with his arm. He jerked as a large hand caressed his arm soothingly and automatically smacked it away, glaring at Sam with more rage and self hatred than he had ever admitted to. Sam looked back at him warily before leaning against the counter and crossing those long strong arms over the broad chest that Dean had only a few minutes ago been pressed back against. He felt his stomach churn again with that thought, but held it back firmly as he took several deep breaths.

Once he felt his stomach wasn’t going to try to turn itself inside out for his sake, Dean worked to push himself up using the tub and toilet as leverage. He swept Sam’s hands off of him with a cold hand and snarled at his brother even as he came to an upright position. He immediately left the bathroom, brushing off Sam’s hand once again as he strode back into the main room and over to his duffle bag, which he began to rifle through to find some clean, or at least mostly clean, clothes.

“Dean...just...we have to talk about this,” Sam said as he stood in the middle of the room and watched his brother’s frantic movements. He straightened up defensively as Dean shifted up and glared venomously at him before pulling on a pair of boxer briefs. He sighed in exasperation as he watched his brother draw on his clothes impatiently and tried again. “Dean, c’mon! It’s not what you think!” he stated and blinked as a bark of bitter laughter left Dean after he yanked on his t-shirt and focused his icy gaze on his brother, drawing a flinch of shock and hurt from Sam. The last time he’d gotten that look was when he’d been on his way out for Stanford.

“It’s not what I think?! I think it was two brothers committing something that should never have been done!” Dean retorted and his voice grew louder as he spoke. “Incest, Sammy! That’s what happened! What the fuck were you thinking?!” he demanded angrily before he grabbed his socks and boots and started pulling them on with irate jerks.

Sam gaped at his brother, speechless at what had just been thrown at him. “Me?! What was *I* thinking?! I was thinking that my brother was in pain and needed my help! Especially considering the fact that he was *begging* for it!” he shouted furiously and his voice deepened with his rage as he stalked forward.

Dean stood up and faced his brother with his chin up and shoulders squared back as he glowered at his brother. “Yea, well who asked you to?! I don’t think I ever said that I wanted to bang my little brother! Obviously I was drunk or drugged and you took advantage of me!” he snarled before shoving Sam back.

With a bellow of pure rage at that insult, Sam grabbed Dean by the shirt and wheeled him about to slam him into the wall. “I’d *never* do that to you, Dean!! You take that back!!” he roared into his brother’s face as he knocked Dean against the wall a couple more times, not even caring as Dean’s hands came up to grip his wrists aggressively in an attempt to pry him off. He stared into his brother’s cold accusing gaze and felt frustration, confusion, and pain well up within him. “You were in pain, Dean...you were pleading with me for it and I didn’t want to resist...” he said softly as his hands loosened slightly from their white knuckled hold.

The room was silent as the two brothers stared at the other before Dean suddenly shook off Sam’s hold completely and shoved Sam from him, shaking almost violently. His stomach was curdling with his self disgust and anger at having even given in to what had happened. He couldn’t remember everything clearly enough to know what had set him off, but he knew that he had somehow been incapacitated sufficiently to not even resist. He didn’t look at Sam as he grabbed his car keys, jacket, and wallet before almost running for the door.

“Dean no! Don’t go, please!” Sam cried as he rushed for his brother and grabbed Dean’s arm, hauling him to a stop at the open doorway. “God please...just...don’t go. We need to talk,” he whispered pleadingly as he stared at his brother’s shaking form.

“It shouldn’t have happened, Sam...god never to you,” Dean replied quietly as he stared at the Impala stonily. He twisted free of Sam’s grip and glanced over his shoulder at his dismayed brother. “I need some time alone...just leave me alone, Sammy...” he ordered gruffly before striding quickly to his car, sliding in, and driving off with a squeal of his tires on the rocky pavement.

Sam watched Dean go with his heart in his throat as he felt a tear slip down his cheek.  He’d known that Dean’d react badly to what had happened...just not *that* badly. Swallowing back his own bile, he went back into their room and looked for some clothes for the day. He had some research to finish, knowing that Dean would get back when he was good and ready.

*~*~*

Sauntering across the parking lot towards the hotel that he was sharing with Sam, Dean whistled softly as he hoisted his duffle bag higher onto his shoulder. He glanced around quickly and noted the Impala's absence, which was perfect. The more he avoided Sam and his other half, the better off he was in getting done what needed to be done. He went to their room while humming and got out his key. Unlocking the door, he went inside and froze as he saw Sam looking over at him anxiously. 'Shit...' he thought as he closed the door behind him and forced a smile on his face. His other half must have taken the Impala...

"Dean...we have to talk," Sam stated firmly as he stood up and faced Dean, who tried to appear as casual as possible.

"Talk about what? There's nothing to talk about, Sammy. Just go back to your porn and let a man get a shower," Dean replied as nonchalantly as he could, though he was thinking quickly as to how he could avoid talking about what had been happening recently with his little brother. He put his duffle near the closet as indifferently as he could before strolling towards the bathroom.

"This isn't funny, Dean! What happened last night wasn't a mistake!" Sam protested as he stopped Dean with a hand on his brother's arm. Dean turned and cocked an eyebrow at the younger man, obviously interested in the explanation. Taking a deep breath and hoping that he wouldn't screw things up, Sam explained. "Look, for a long time now, I know I've been feeling things that were...beyond 'brotherly love' for you. Last night doesn't bother me. I'm just worried about what you’re feeling. You didn't coerce me, Dean. I was *very* willing to be with you. It was..." he trailed off and moved closer, then cupped his stunned brother's face tenderly and brushed his thumb along a stubbled cheek. "It was wonderful. Being with you that way...I...I never felt so safe or loved or...or *whole* and I just...I don't want it to destroy you or us," he said softly while staring at his brother.

Shock and amazement washed over Dean as he stared at his earnest brother. His other half and Sam had fucked?! Holy shit! His thoughts whirled with that revelation and he was almost gleeful. He was so internalized with his pondering that he didn't even hear Sam at first. "What?"

"Say something..." Sam whispered again as he watched his brother in hope and also rising confusion. There was something not right with his brother, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was like Dean was hiding something, but it had nothing to do with the other night. Or rather it did, but not with what they were talking about.

"What do you want me to say, Sam? That you are once again proving who the girl is in this relationship?" Dean taunted before drawing back and going towards his normal duffle bag to pull out some clothes. "Jeez Sammy...I swear that I should have had you get that transgender operation or something long ago," he added conversationally as he thought on what his plans could be. He already knew his next target, but he couldn't let Sam know that there was something up.

"Dean, this isn't funny. What's wrong with you? You were so upset that you were puking this morning! Now you're acting like nothing's wrong!" Sam demanded angrily as he went over to Dean's side and stopped his brother from bringing out some more clothes.

Looking up at Sam, Dean smirked and brought a hand up, cupping Sam's cheek. "Aw Sammy...did you want a repeat performance, is that it?" he asked mockingly and snickered as Sam stared at him in shocked hurt. He let his hand fall down and went back to his packing as he continued, "Not all of us are like you, Sam. We all have our own outlets."

Staring at his brother, Sam knew then that something was *definitely* wrong. His brother could be nonchalant, but this was almost cruel! He grabbed his brother's shoulder and shoved him slightly, turning Dean so that they were facing. "This isn't like you..." he hissed out as his eyes narrowed. Now that he was looking fully at his brother, he noted the different clothes and the slightly hard cast to his brother's eyes. "You're not Dean," he growled as he tensed and Dean snorted while smirking.

"Actually, I'm the Dean that gets the job done," he responded before suddenly moving. His fist was flying and knocking Sam out before his brother could even react and he stood over Sam with a small leer. "Well, much as I'd love to play house with you some more, baby brother...I have work to do. You just rest up for later," he instructed to the unconscious man before packing his clothes into the other duffle and heading out, leaving Sam lying unconscious on the floor.

*~*~*

The sound of the Impala’s engine roared around Dean as he drove back to the hotel he shared with Sam. His mind was as quiet as his car was loud after he had driven and worked through everything that had happened within the last couple of days. He had come to a couple of decisions, but had basically just calmed down so he could at least look his brother in the eye.

He sighed softly as he parked the car and shut the engine off, and then just sat in the silence that fell over him. He stared blindly at the door leading to their room and nibbled on his lip again as he had been since he’d left earlier that day.  He remembered having an erotic dream and feeling like a cock had been in him when he’d climaxed and woken up. But it hadn’t ended with that. Instead, it had intensified and he had automatically fallen back to the fantasy that had been haunting him since he’d been sixteen and Sam had been twelve. He recalled whispering for Sam, inadvertently letting his fantasy flow out of him as he’d thrust into the damp sheets, having not even softened as the feeling of a cock in him had sent him spiraling higher.

Shuddering at the memories as heat shot through him, Dean blocked out the rest. He couldn’t let himself think about what had happened after that. Revulsion kept going through him at the mere shadows of what had happened and he had already thrown up five other times from the guilt. It was one thing to have a fantasy that on a normal day was considered very *wrong*, but it was quite another to actually give into it and do it.

Taking another deep breath, he firmed himself to the confrontation that would be coming once he stepped into that room. It was going to either be painful with Sam drawing out a confession that Dean was fighting against tooth and nail or it was going to be avoided and would then fester until it boiled over into something worse than their committing incest. Either way...it was going to be excruciating. Dean got out of the car and scrubbed a hand over his face before he shut the door. Time to face the music...He strolled to the room and went inside. “Sam?” he called out as he closed the door behind him and blinked in the sudden darkness. He looked around with a frown as he tried to figure out where Sam was. There weren’t any sounds in the bathroom, the laptop was still on...so where was Sam?

A soft moan broke through the stillness and Dean focused down instantly. “Sam!” he cried as he moved forward and knelt next to his brother, who was on the ground and just coming back to consciousness. He put his hand under Sam’s neck and shoulders and helped his brother to sit up as Sam groaned in pain. “Sam what happened? Who did this? Was it a vision?” he questioned his brother as he rubbed Sam’s back.

“D-Dean?” Sam’s voice was rough with confusion and returning awareness as he grabbed his jaw and coughed a bit. He looked up blearily at Dean and squinted before his eyes widened and he scrambled away from his brother.

“Whoa, whoa, Sam! What’s wrong?” Dean questioned in surprise as he reached for his brother, shocked at the wariness that he saw in his brother’s eyes. “What happened? Who did this?” he asked again as he sat back and gave Sam some space. It was like his brother was scared of him, but why? Was it from that morning’s spat?

Sam looked around wildly before refocusing on Dean. His eyes traveled over Dean slowly, noting the clothes that had been on Dean that morning instead of the doppelganger that had attacked him. He relaxed and looked over at the clock and his eyes widened when he saw the time before his gaze returned to his brother. “It was...I don’t know. It was you, but it wasn’t. He was...he acted like you, but he was almost cold and...cruel,” he murmured as he rubbed at his temple in an effort to dispel his headache. He groaned and let his head fall forward. “I thought he was you...I didn’t notice the different clothes...god I was stupid!” he whispered in shame and annoyance at having been fooled. He thought that he had known his brother so well.

“A skin walker?” Dean asked in concern as he stared at his brother, alarmed at what was being said. Another skin walker of him going around was *not* what they needed! But for some reason he knew that that wasn’t it. But what could it be?

“No, I don’t think so. He didn’t try to kill me. He taunted me like you would have with the kind of talk we’d had...” Sam stopped and glanced up at Dean, watching his brother frown in thought and wondered once again that it wasn’t just the other Dean that had been different. This one was as well. It was as if they were two different versions of the Dean he knew and loved. But how was that even possible?

“What kind of talk?” Dean inquired distractedly as he thought over what Sam had revealed. It was silent for a bit so he glanced up to find Sam staring intently at his hands with a light flush on his cheeks. A jolt of realization slammed through Dean as he understood what *talk* Sam had been hinting about. “Oh,” was all he could say as a touch of pink appeared on his cheeks and embarrassment flooded him. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and glanced around the room for a bit before focusing on Sam again. “So, what was he doing here?” he asked to bring them back to the topic.

“He was going through your duffle bag and grabbing clothes. Come to think of it, he seemed distracted...like he was hiding something,” Sam answered thoughtfully as he lifted his head and gazed at his brother.

Standing, Dean went over to his open bag and growled. “The fucker stole my favorite shirt!” he muttered indignantly as he looked over the contents in assessment. He glanced over as he heard some shifting to find Sam standing up carefully. He strode over immediately and braced his brother when he wavered. “Easy there, tiger...go slow,” he murmured as he cupped the back of Sam’s head, steadying the younger man with a hand on Sam’s chest as well.

Their gazes locked and Dean swallowed hard at the emotion he could see in Sam’s eyes. He closed his own and let his hands drop before stepping back. But a gentle hand on his arm stopped him before caressing leisurely up his arm and down his torso to wrap firmly around his waist. He opened his eyes and stared blankly ahead as he was pulled slowly towards Sam until there were only inches between them. He shivered as a large hand touched his chin and drew his gaze up until they were staring at each other once again. Dean’s mouth felt dry as heat shot through him from having Sam so close, but he couldn’t seem to pull away. He licked his lips and tried to speak, but something flashed in Sam’s eyes, stopping him.

“Don’t, Dean. It wasn’t wrong. You didn’t force me...” Sam whispered, silencing the sudden cacophony of protests and recriminations that had been tearing into Dean’s mind all over again. A very soft protest was stuck in Dean’s throat, but he couldn’t say anything as Sam pushed on. “For years I’ve wanted you, Dean, but I didn’t say anything because of your attitude. You were always acting too cool or hitting on all the girls, so I didn’t even know where you stood on being with guys, much less me. But I knew one thing and that was that no matter how you were with them, I was important to you and always safe with you. So when that moment came where I could be more to you, I took it. You *needed me* and I was...more than happy to give you anything, consequences be damned,” he said and then fell silent as they stared at each other.

After a bit, Dean looked away, uncomfortable with their candid soul searching. He shook his head and pulled away from his brother, but was stopped once again by a large hand on his arm. He swallowed hard as Sam whispered a soft, “Please, Dean,” but he shook his head again as his only response. He wouldn’t give in to his base desires. He *couldn’t*. How often had things gone south when he had? Too many times to count and he was unwilling to lose the *only* good thing left in his miserable life.

He was still until Sam’s hands left his body, but he didn’t relax. He could almost feel Sam’s dejection and it tore at his heart, but he didn’t turn around. He had to protect Sam no matter what the cost, even if it meant his own sense of happiness. What kinds of trouble would having such a relationship with his own brother bring about for the already burdened younger Winchester? Sam could talk big about wanting him, but in the end it would bring nothing but trouble.

Dean felt a tear roll down his face, but he didn’t acknowledge it as he went over to his bed. He heard Sam sigh quietly before going over towards where the laptop was set up, but he didn’t look over. They both needed to collect themselves.

After about five minutes of quiet, he finally looked over to see Sam staring stonily at his laptop screen. With a steeling breath, Dean went over and sat in the other chair at the table. “So, what did you decipher so far?” he inquired while taking up one of the sheets of notes that were scattered around Sam’s area.

A quiet sigh left Sam as he wrote something on the pad of paper at his elbow and Dean had to wonder if he was even going to get an answer. But then Sam looked up and focused on Dean. “So far from what I’ve translated on the mirror frame, it looks like we have an avenging spirit on our hands. But it’s not your ordinary spirit. I think...” he trailed off and glanced at his notes again as if for confirmation as an idea formed in his mind.

“What do you think, Sammy?” Dean inquired in curiosity as he leaned in closer towards his brother, unable to stop the twinge of worry as he saw Sam thinking on whatever had just clicked into place with his theory.

Glancing at his brother, Sam studied Dean for a bit before answering. “I think I know what happened. Dean, when you fell into that mirror, I think that you were cloned or something. Remember how you said that you’d seen your reflection move on its own before you were attacked?” Sam waited until Dean had nodded before continuing. “Well I think that the mirror you had fallen into is one of the gods from Norse mythology mirror.”

“Whoa wait...you mean some Norse god is using some kind of spell to kill these people? Man that’s just a pain...” Dean responded in annoyance as he sat back. “So what does that have to do...” he stopped and sat up as he paled, understanding flashing over his face before he focused on Sam.

Nodding, Sam sat back as well. “That other Dean...he’s the berserker. He’s killing people that are morally corrupt. The symbols that he’s carving into the victims prove it. Wrath of god, betrayal, greed, justice...he’s being a vigilante and telling their sins as his MO,” he explained quickly while tossing the news articles of the two victims over for Dean to see.

“And he looks like me,” Dean added grimly as he looked over the articles with a grimace.

“No...I think he *is* you,” Sam said softly as they locked eyes. “Dean, he *knew* things about me that only you would know. And the look in his eyes...I’ve seen it in yours when dealing with something you are trying to hide.” He watched Dean as his brother looked down silently, obviously digesting what had been offered. Reaching over, he added quietly, “You’re different too. You’re...almost like the...it’s almost like you’re the emotional side. The other Dean is the killer...the hunter. You’re...the humane part that...keeps you from becoming like the things we hunt,” he trailed off in frustration from his explanation as Dean stared at him wordlessly.

“So what do you think we should do? Kill him...or I should say me?” Dean asked gruffly and Sam swallowed hard.

“I don’t know. I mean, somehow we’ll have to figure out a way to put you two back together or something,” Sam replied and chewed on his lip while drumming his fingers on the table.

“Or something? Jesus Sam! What’s the ‘or something’? Painting him with runes that say 'I won't kill' so he'll be a good puppet?” Dean demanded impatiently once again before standing abruptly. He started pacing between the beds and the TV stand.

Sam watched his brother pace and felt his chest tighten at the guilt, pain, and self loathing that he saw on his brother’s face. It was obvious to anyone that he was blaming himself already for the deaths. “I don’t think we can kill him. I think...I think that you’d die too,” he finally said.

Snorting, Dean glanced over at Sam. “And why’s that?” he snapped as he came to a stop in front of Sam with his arms crossed over his chest defiantly.

Looking up at his brother, Sam couldn’t help but grin. His brother was always so headstrong. But his grin faded as he replied somberly, “I think that you two are connected.” When Dean remained silent while staring at him, Sam continued hesitantly. “Last night, it was like someone had already prepped you.” Halting, Sam flushed as Dean paled once again. “Last night’s victim...there were signs that he’d had sex with a male. The...condom that had been left in one of the symbols had had traces of lube on it, the kind used in anal sex. And there was no penetration of the victim though,” he explained.

Dean sat down unexpectedly on the floor as comprehension made him weak and feeling ill. He covered his face with a shaking hand before wiping it quickly and looking away, thinking fast. “We have to find him and stop him,” he stated flatly after a bit.

“How? He could be anywhere and I’m not even sure what his pattern is,” Sam retorted, albeit gently. He grabbed his notebook and tossed it to Dean.

Catching it, Dean glanced over the details wordlessly. His brow furrowed after a bit before his eyes widened in realization. “He’s picking victims that are the extremes of my vices,” he whispered and had to fight the urge to throw up.

Blinking in confusion, Sam took back the notebook. “What do you mean?” he questioned while searching for the clues that had led Dean to his discovery.

“The girl was cheating on her husband for drugs. The guy was embezzling and cheating on his wife with male prostitutes. That’s...that’s what I do...” Dean murmured soberly as he stared at his hands.

“What?! No way, Dean! You don’t do drugs and who are you...cheating...oh...” Sam stopped and fiddled with the notebook as Dean stared at him knowingly.

“Sam...I lust after my brother and bed anything I can to make up for it. I hustle cards and pool and do credit card scams,” Dean explained dully.

“You do it so we can survive, Dean. So *you* can survive,” Sam protested as he knelt in front of his brother. Dean looked up at him and Sam didn’t resist his instincts as he pulled Dean into his arms and just held him. “Dean, you’re a good man,” he murmured into his brother’s neck.

Dean sat listlessly in Sam’s arms for a bit, but then wrapped his arms around Sam and buried his face in Sam’s neck. He breathed in Sam’s scent and indulged himself in the security that he felt while in his brother’s hold. Eventually he pushed back and stood up, then offered his hand to his brother to help him up before going over to the weapons’ bag and rummaging through it. “First things first, we need to find my other self. We find him and capture him, then keep him until we figure out what to do with him,” he recommended firmly as he checked his Glock’s chambers before locking it.

“I think you better stay here, Dean,” Sam suggested as he strode over to his brother’s side. Dean opened his mouth to complain, but Sam rode over him. “They’re looking for a guy that looks just like you, Dean. And we can’t rely on your bond with the other Dean.”

“Why not? I bet if I concentrated, I could sense what he’s thinking or doing!” Dean protested while flashing a grin at his brother.

Snorting, Sam shook his head. “It seems to kick in when you get any extremes, like the drinking or the...um...the sex,” he clarified and bit his lip on a laugh as Dean squirmed.

“All right, all right...I’ll stay here. But you better the hell be careful!” Dean replied with an annoyed huff. He turned away and put his gun back, but a firm hand rotated him back to face Sam. He looked up at his brother and tilted his head. "You call if you need help, ya hear?" he added quietly.

Nodding, Sam watched his brother for a bit before giving into his impulse and leaning in to press his lips to his brother's.  Dean froze against him, but didn't fight back, which encouraged the younger Winchester into moving closer. He opened his mouth against Dean's and flicked his tongue over his brother's lips, teasing, pleading for entry as his arms wrapped around his brother and held him close.

With a soft moan, Dean tilted his head just right as he opened his mouth and invited Sam in with a brush of his tongue over Sam's. Their tongues met and twined around each other as their kiss grew heated with their mutual need and Dean's hands clung to Sam's shirt as they rocked against each other in a slow rhythm. Eventually their kiss broke and they stood breathing into the other's mouth as they reeled from the sheer want that filled them. But Sam soon drew back, breaking the hold this time regretfully. Their hands slid together in a last effort to keep their connection, however they both knew that they had to part to take care of business. With a final smile at his brother, Sam grabbed his coat and a gun, which he tucked into his pants, then headed out in search of the other Dean.

Watching him leave, Dean couldn't help but wrap his arms around his waist and hug himself. No matter what would happen, they would always have each other.