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“Dean. Why did I just get a call from Texas about a new warrant for your arrest?”
Dean sends a side-eye to his brother. Sam’s still frowning at his phone, and for once, Dean wishes he’d had his radio turned down and his mind tuned in so he could’ve overheard that conversation. “Who told you that?”
Well that was the wrong answer. Sam’s frown deepened. “Carlos. He’s poking around near Amarillo for a case and found you in the system from…” he looks back at his phone. Dork was taking notes. “Texhoma? A few months ago?”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “I dunno, Sammy, how’m I supposed to keep up with all the good looking sons of bitches who commit crimes? Y’know, we do have a day job.” He taps the Impala’s wheel.
“Not anymore, we don’t.” Sam reminds him pointedly.
Dean shrugs. “Yeah, well, some days.” Right now though, he’s right. He and Sam are driving back to Jody’s from their last case; they’d volunteered to leave Cas and Jack behind so Claire wouldn’t jump on the chance for a hunt.
“Dean.” A hand pokes into Dean’s vision and switches the radio off. “You’re avoiding the question.”
Dean grinds his teeth together. The look in Lee’s eyes as he died comes back to him like a bad meal, the silence stretching out too similarly in the car and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He’d looked happy, a little bit, and fucking heartbroken too. Just like the first time Dean had left him. Failed him.
“Dean?”
It isn’t until Sam squeezes his shoulder hard enough to hurt that he realizes his heart is pounding. “I’m fine, Sam.”
“Carlos said it was connected to a disappearance. Lee Webb?”
“Sam, drop it.” Dean can’t swallow. He’s sure it’s a glitch but he can’t swallow.
“We haven’t been on a hunt down there since last year, so what the hell were you doing there by yourself?”
Dean slams on the breaks. He only remembers to check there’s no one behind him after they skid to a stop. He hears Sam grunt in protest as he jerks against his seat belt. “I did one solo hunt, Sam, stop freaking the fuck out!”
Sam narrows his eyes at him. “Wait, Webb… didn’t Dad have a buddy named Webb? Yeah, uh… Pete, right? He had a kid-”
“Lee.” Dean yanks the car back into drive and stomps on the pedal, no mercy even when Baby sputters and jumps.
“Yeah.”
Sam gets quiet all of a sudden. “What, smart guy ran out of things to say, huh?” He tightens his grip on the wheel, and the vibration rippling from the engine is the only reason his hands shake.
“You were friends, right?” His voice is soft and hesitant; he sounds like he did when they were kids and Dean wouldn’t tell them where John really disappeared to. A jolt of guilt goes through Dean at the thought. Once an asshole, always an asshole. He nods. “I’m sorry.”
Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, me too.” It comes out bitter and angry. And Dean is, oh, Dean is. Lee could’ve been good. Could’ve retired from the job and got a picket fence and 2.5 kids but instead… instead, he chose to be a greedy son of a bitch. Instead he ruined it. Instead, he made Dean drive a stake through his chest and hold him while he died. The last time he held him.
“Dean, maybe I should drive.”
Dean yanks Baby’s wheel to the left, dragging her back onto the asphalt he hadn't noticed he was drifting off of. “Maybe you shouldn’t have brought this up in the fucking first place.”
“Yeah.” Sam says even softer. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
It makes Dean feel even guiltier. He’s such a dick. “No, I-” But thinking about telling Sam, now, his throat stops up.
“What?”
Dean sighs again. Up ahead there’s a clearing between the road and the corn for tractors. He pulls into it. “He died.” He sits there listening to the Impala’s engine tick, waiting for Sam to say something. He doesn’t. He’s waiting for Dean to share. And… that’s what he’d kinda implied he was gonna do, wasn’t it. Fuck him and his impulsiveness. “We worked a few cases together back when- back when you were at school.”
Sam exhales quickly. Dean doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t want to see the crumpled understanding pass over his face, and he doesn’t want to admit that their dad didn’t even want him around as a backup gun. “Oh.”
Dean looks down at his feet.
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“We could always stay in. Watch jeopardy or some shit.” Dean shrugs, and his face heats up as Lee raises an eyebrow at him. “Sam liked it, I dunno,”
Lee laughs. “Dean, man, anybody ever told you that you talk about your baby brother too much? It’s like he’s your fucking boyfriend or something.” Lee shoves him and Dean catches his wrist and doesn’t let go for a few seconds. Lee doesn’t mention it though. They may be a little high, a little pot Lee had stashed in his glove compartment rolled up into a joint passed between them, a little spit shared.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Dean protests softly, petulantly.
Lee snorts. “Yeah, I know that, dipshit.”
Dean laughs too. He loses his balance and falls into Lee; his shoulder knocks against Lee’s first and then his forehead falls against his neck. “Nah, if anyone’s my boyfriend it’s you.” He mutters into Lee’s collarbone. The only thing Lee does is place a hand light on Dean’s back to hold him up. “I saw you in that house today, all worried about me and shit, fucking dickhead.”
Lee exhales hard. Dean tilts his head up a little. His lips are pressing against the hollow of Lee’s neck, just because that’s where he’s resting. Holding yourself up when high is really harder than anyone gives it credit for. “Not worried. Just trying to make sure I don’t have to clean up after your sorry ass.”
“Yeah right.” Dean leaves his mouth open and breathes against Lee’s skin. He can taste the sweat still clinging to him, just a little bit. Or maybe he’s just making that up because he’d imagined it so many times.
“Dean,” Lee whispers, and Dean pulls back to look at him. Their faces are close, and Lee’s looking at his lips. “Dean.”
“Lee.” Dean breathes. He leans in. And then they’re kissing.
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“We- I-” He squeezes his hands into his thighs, trying to feel his nails dig into the skin through the jeans. It doesn’t work. “We fooled around.”
“You and-”
“Yeah. Me and Lee.”
“Was he-”
“I don’t fucking know, Sam! We didn’t have a heart to heart about our fucking sexualities after taking one up the ass!” Dean’s eyes are squeezed shut.
“Okay, wow, that was… way more information than I wanted. I just-”
“He was the only one. The only guy I ever- until-” Dean breathes out shakily and looks at his little brother. He’s got this stricken look on his face, concerned and terrified and full of fucking pity.
“...Until?”
“Cas told me he loved me. That’s why the Empty took him.” It all comes out so quick Dean doesn’t even blame the kid for taking a moment to blink.
“The Empty took him because he’s gay?”
Dean breaks into a ridiculous, awful-sounding laugh, all the tension and prickling in his throat coming bubbling out of him. Sam joins in hesitantly after a moment, confusion in his eyes. They both laugh until they run out of breath. It’s a more exhausted than comfortable silence, but Dean takes it. “No, you fucking nerd. You fucking- what the hell. He- it made him happy. He couldn’t be happy.” He’s still out of breath. “And I tried to tell him, I tried to tell him, Sam, but I… couldn’t. I didn’t.”
Sam reaches over like he’s afraid to touch, but this time Dean doesn’t flinch away. He lets Sam pull him into an awkward hug across the seat. Toward the end of that hug, he even makes an effort to hug him back. “Dean. Dean, we got him back. You can-”
“No.” Dean doesn’t pull away because he doesn’t want Sam to see his face right now. “No, Sam, you don’t get it. He… Lee died because of me. I killed him. I killed him, but he started it. He started all that shit because I fucked him up. What if-”
“Dean.” Sam pushed him away so he could hold his face. “Dean, look at me. You love me. You love Jack and Jody and Claire and Donna too, and look at them. They’re happy and healthy and alive! We are too, Dean. We’re free.” He pats his face a little, like he doesn’t think Dean is listening. He is. He is. “No more fucking tragedy, alright? Stop being a goddamn coward and tell Cas you fucking love him.”
“Are you saying… we should have a chick flick moment?”
Sam sighs like he will always be suffering as long as Dean’s his brother. “Dean, you just came out to me. I’m pretty sure this is a chick flick moment.”
Dean wrinkles his nose. “But like, this is a chick flick brother moment. I mean like a-”
“Okay, Dean, well I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to rain in Sioux Falls tonight, so if you wanna stop talking and get on the road, you can probably have a whole Notebook-esque kiss if you want it.”
Dean scowled at him and started the car. “Totally overrated movie, by the way. Good scene though.”