Title: Fix Me with Fire
By: Ivy
Category: Wincest&EndofWincest (you'll have to read it to understand)
Rating: PG
Summary: Fire burns away everything.
Author's Notes: One HUGE thank you to halfshellvenus for her patience while reading over my fic. =) she is the other half when it comes to this piece. Also, this is a slightly new direction for me when it comes to Wincest. Instead of getting the boys together- well, you'll just have to read =)


Dean yearns to fix himself.

To be healed. Purified. Reborn.

Anything to rid himself of this feeling. This need. This want.

From the moment Sam steps back into Dean's life, Dean can't seem to take enough showers. The feeling underneath his skin is disgusting, unnatural, completely overwhelming and sinfully sweet all at the same time. It consumes him from the inside out, takes control of his thoughts and refuses to let go. No matter how many times Dean scrubs at his skin with the harshest of cheap motel soap, the feeling refuses to wash away.

The thoughts about improper touches, forbidden skin and ungodly gasps swirl around in Dean's brain every waking minute and Dean always sees the shadows of his dreams playing out in the corners of his eyes. When the roads blur into one long streak and Sam dozes in the seat next to him, Dean lets the mask fall, lets the monster inside of him rear its ugly head and take in what is there in front of him.

Close enough to touch. Always just that close. At nights, in the darkness, Sam sleeps only a few feet away, eyes closed and head turned to one side and Dean sleeps on his stomach, hiding his hard-on the best he can. Dean can never touch Sam or himself. And yet, Dean can never walk away. Sam requires protection.

Ever since Sam stepped back into his life, Dean sleeps on his stomach. Desperate to hide himself from the one person that understands him the most, Dean does everything he can to get rid of this raging need. Sometimes, if they're driving, Dean finds the nearest rest stop and hops out of the car, racing to the bathroom while calling for Sam to pay for the gas. Once safely hidden within the crummy stall, Dean exposes himself to the air and just lets himself feel.

But it becomes too much. Everything becomes too much to handle and Dean feels the fire within his stomach growing more and more each day. His skin that once itched and was irritated now burns with such fury and want and demand that it is almost painful to be around Sam. Yet all the events that occur are like throwing logs onto the fire. They turn the flames of passion within him into a fire of desperation and hurt and anger. They create pressure from unspoken words, from unexpressed feelings, from suppressed need. The flames engulf Dean, steadily and cruelly burning everything away. The hurtful words drown out the meaning of Dean's screams. The daily rain of confusion and mentally shed tears drench the elements of longing. Everything consumes Dean, every part of him, until finally it runs its course and then leaves. The flame leaves ashes in its wake, walks away and leaves its fuel behind. It uses all of it up and moves on.

Sam comes back and over time, through rejection and experience, Dean learns that Sam can protect himself.

Dean no longer needs to sleep on his stomach, no longer needs sporadic restroom stops and no longer hogs the motel soap.

All that Dean needs is gone. His father and his brother have both left him behind in their wake, all to pursue their own wants and their own needs. They seek only to fix their own problems and to achieve their own goals-- never looking back to question if they were Dean's need. Dean's want. Dean's desire.

After all that has happened, Dean throws away his need for Sam. The thoughts about improper touches, forbidden skin and ungodly gasps burn away with the rest of Dean. The need to feel is out of reach. The desire to see is forgotten. The ache to be loved is gone.

There is little left that Dean wants anymore. There is little left of Dean for anyone to fix.