Title: MORAL (Thicker, chapter 3)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: by author permission only
Category: Vignette, angsty pre-Wincest, Sam POV
Spoilers: Post-ep for "Asylum"
Rating: T for teens and up due to language and references to m/m sexual behavior
Pairing: Sam/Dean pending
Summary: Analysis

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke, and is the property of Kripke Enterprises Scrap Metal and Entertainment (Eric Kripke and Robert Singer, executive producers), Wonderland Sound and Vision, Warner Brothers, and the CW Network. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.

DEDICATION: For Tiff, who cares about the stuff I write when no one else does.

COPYRIGHT: (C) Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, August 30, 2006, jfc@freeshell.org

Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.



Men are more moral than they think and far more immoral than they can imagine.
-- Sigmund Freud


Dr. Ellicott asked me to tell him one honest thing about Dean.

I made something up.

Okay, so maybe I did resent his blind acceptance of Dad's quest, at first, anyway. Bad choice, at least when it stuck in my head and I got whammied into acting upon my anger against him. Thank God he handed me an unloaded gun. I don't want to imagine this world without him. And there's the honest thing.

There was no way I'd have allowed myself to say how I really feel about Dean to some anonymous psychiatrist, or to anyone, really. Especially not Dean.

Of course I care about him. He looks out for me, and he knows I'll always have his back, in any confrontation. It's just...

At a very basic level, Dean is all I have. The weaponry and supplies in the car, the clothes in my duffel? That's all replaceable--it's just stuff. I know people with ordinary lives get attached to objects, to mementoes and keepsakes. I don't have any of those. The few things I had collected in the place I shared with Jess were destroyed in a fire. Of course, so was Jess.

I've learned not to hold too tight to anything. The only constant, the only home I will ever have, is Dean.

It scares the shit outta me sometimes just how attached I am to my brother. How could I have explained this adequately to the good doctor? I would do anything for him. I'd steal for him, which I know because I've done it. Kill? Yep. Die? Without a second thought.

I'd break rules, laws, and commandments for Dean. Hell, if he asked me to, I think I'd even fuck him. Maybe he wouldn't even have to ask.

And that's the thing that destroys me the most. He can't ever know that. Sure, we're partners. We work well together, fighting the good fight side by side. We plot and plan and strategize, facing horrible things and saving each other's necks time and time again, just to make the world a better place.

But when we finish our quest, then come back to a safe space and lie down in the same room, sometimes it is very difficult to get into my own bed and leave him alone. Part of it is probably the desire to keep watch over him, or the fear that nightmares or visions will take up permanent residence in my brain. It would be completely reasonable to ask him innocently to stay awake with me until I fell asleep, just to make sure I was okay.

But what if I were to forget myself and reach for him in the dark? How easy would it be to cling to him like a lover, kiss him deeply, and take my carnal comfort in his body, not caring if we were both utterly damned by my doing so? I couldn't do that to him--it's so beyond wrong that I don't even dare think about it.

Were I to act on this strangely comforting fantasy, I am sure that Dean would hate me forever. And honestly, that event would be the one thing for which I could never forgive myself.

So I'll just go on lying to myself and to him that everything is fine between us. It'll be safer that way.



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