Dean Winchester.

That did seem romantic and all but on the off chance Dean was wrong and he was just flying to New York and barging into Ric’s life for nothing at all…well then it would be very embarrassing and Sam wasn’t sure if he was on board with that. Not to mention it meant he would be missing out on Christmas with Dean and Cas, which he wasn’t really sold on doing either.

“You know that means I won’t be here for Christmas, right?” he asked, hoping maybe Dean just hadn’t thought of that and he could slide by with using it for an excuse rather than having to tell Dean he still had his doubts that Ric liked him in turn. Honestly Dean and Cas could be really wrong here, they could. They didn’t know everything about everyone after all.

“And it’s flying, you hate flying. You’re not going to be worried if I’m on a plane?” he asked, still clearly stalling. “We both usually drive back and forth to each other’s places,” he added looking up at Dean and shrugging. “Maybe he won’t even be happy I’m there, for all I know he has plans this Christmas Dean.”

The sensible thing to do right now would be to sit Sam down and make him book his flight. But too much pressure and he might spring back, so Dean decided to be a little more subtle.

A little.

“Hey, I’m worried about me on a plane, not you on a plane,” he said, jovially. And really, Sam was always fine. It was Dean who had to white knuckle it. Sam was the kind of person who would cheerfully remind Dean that you were more likely to be killed in a car accident than a plane accident and think that actually made it reasonable to go up in the air in something enormous and heavy and full of highly flammable —

Whoops.

“And hey, Sammy. We got a lifetime of Christmases ahead of us. Next year, it’ll be all four of us again, the way it’s meant to be. We’ll make Cas sit on the top of the tree and glare.” He grinned. “He’s gonna be happy you’re there, Sam. You show up on Christmas eve with snow on the shoulders of your jacket and some kind of pansy declaration of love on your lips and I guarantee you he’ll be the happiest man in the country, just like that.”

And now to retreat.

“Listen, I gotta go.” He did not have to go. He just didn’t want Sam to have the chance to start talking himself out of this. “But let me know your flight details so I can check the news every three minutes and make sure you haven’t crashed — And go get ‘im, tiger.”

Sam was pretty sure he had already talked himself out of it though, but Dean was right. Maybe he wasn’t giving Ric enough credit. It wasn’t even anything against Ric really, it was more just his own fear stopping him. He’d already lost so much and he’d come so far in life. They all had. He was happy, as happy as he could be without going for it with the man he so clearly loved. Was it worth risking it for a little more happiness?

Yeah, maybe it was. Cause what if Ric did like him and stopped coming around because Sam wasn’t putting out signs and signals? What if another year passed and the distance of their states became distance in their actual communication? Sam didn’t want that to happen, he didn’t want to lose one of the best things that had happened in his life because he’d been too afraid to act on his feelings.

“No, you’re right,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve got to do something, I can’t just be afraid of ruining something with him and end up ruining it by not doing something Dean.”

Admitting it was the first step, right?

Dean was about launch into another argument, when he stopped in his tracks.

“I should get this written up and make you sign it. You just admitted I was right.” But his pulse had quickened a little. “Sam, man, I’m glad,” he said, palms resting on the edge of the counter. “And for what It’s worth… I think this is gonna work out great. So does Cas. Weird little dude, he likes Ric. Probably because Cas’s jokes are as bad as Ric’s, and they laugh at each other… not relevant, not relevant.”

So? Now they needed a plan. And if Sam suggested a conversation over Skype, Dean was going to be beyond pissed. They’d come this far, and no he needed to take action.

Dean’s last words made it easy to ignore the rest, which he knew looking back on he would regret because they never talked about their feelings. It wasn’t something Winchester’s did, even though Sam tried countless times to get Dean to. Hell he still did. Every time the chance arose he would get Dean to talk about what he was feeling and yet this was the one thing he liked to keep to himself. Mostly because no one understood, not even Dean could. It’s just what it was and nothing was going to change that.

“Yeah, what secrets do you think Ric is hiding huh?” he asked, a grin spreading over his lips. “What could be in his past that he would keep hidden that I don’t already know about? I mean really, I wanna know your best guess.”

Sam really did think he knew the bulk of what was in Ric’s past. Sure the guy could throw him a curveball someday and say something totally out there but he very much doubted it.

Yeah, no way did professor spooky have skeletons in his closet, at least not of the sort Sam and Dean had. It had been a stab in the dark, and from the expression on Sam’s face, he knew it.

“I don’t know. Probably comes from a long line of Rugarous or something,” he said, cocking his chin. “You don’t know. Dude eats a lot of meat, and he likes it rare.” He crossed his arms. “Family of witches? He told me the family comes from Germany — maybe his great great grandmother is the actual wicked witch of Grimm’s fairy tales.”

Yeah. No.

The first reaction was to argue that the demons were still out there, that some of them still wanted to get Lucifer out. The angels too, he was sure there were some who wanted Michael back in charge of the place. How long would it be till someone came along and opened the cage and let them both loose again? Could he be with Ric when that happened or would Lucifer come knocking at his door and demand he be his vessel again? Better yet, this time would he have a choice? He’d said yes once before, was that a standing invitation to let the devil posses him?

“Cas knew everything about you,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “He knew everything about us, more or less. I’ve only mentioned Lucifer in tidbits here and there to Ric. What if he hates me once he knows I said yes to Lucifer at one point?”

It was something that could happen. And sure Sam knew everything he was saying sounded like an excuse, but honest to god it was all stuff he thought about and worried about. It was always in his mind whenever someone asked him out and he turned them down, whenever someone mentioned he was going to be alone forever if he didn’t try dating someone.

“Sam, that dude is not gonna hate you.” Dean shook his head. Why was it so hard for Sam to see himself the way other people saw him? Not that there were a lot of people around who knew their truths, but still. “You did what you had to do. You didn’t think you had a better option, Sam. I know that, Cas knows that, and if you ever decided that Ric needed to know — he’d understand it, too. Probably make that face like he’s worried you might be about to topple over, but he’s not gonna hate you.”

Dean rubbed his face; if Sam had looked miserable when he’d arrived, Dean had managed to make it even worse. He wished he understood this part of Sam better. In so many ways he knew his brother inside out, but when it came to relationships… he’d just missed too much. Sam had closed that part of himself off for so long, Dean didn’t even know what it looked like.

“Sam,” he said, quietly. “I’m sorry, man. You carry so much on your shoulders. I guess I forget, sometimes.” Their fucked-up legacy, their gnarled family tree, with all it entailed… Sam had the worst of it. The fact that he was, for the most part, here at home safe didn’t take any of that away.

No, the things they did weren’t exactly the safest but at the same time it was. Sam could make sure they only went on hunts with monsters and ghosts, that they avoided anything with demons. And Ric didn’t hunt without him, at least not without telling him where he was going locally and what he was dealing with. Ric had never gone up against a demon and told Sam about it, so year he was safe. And maybe if he fell for someone else and settled down then he’d stop hunting the safer things too and be fully safe.

If he lived here and some demon caught wind that Sam Winchester had settled down and was happy, would they just leave it be?

Sighing Sam shrugged his shoulders, not sure how to answer Dean.

“No I’m fine, I just…I guess I sometimes think it’s too good to be true,” he admitted, finally turning around from the sink to look at Dean. “I do things that make me happy, like having Ric here. And all I can think about is that I got off too easily Dean. We did what we did and then I left that life, for the most part. Guess I’m just afraid if I let myself be too happy that….that Lucifer will show up again somehow and ruin it all.”

Dean shook his head. “I know we can both have a pretty screwed-up sense of the world, Sammy, but in no way has any of this been getting off easy. There was nothing easy about it. You and me, we’ve fought tooth and nail for every little bit of peace we’ve been able to hold on to, and we deserve something good, and real.”

He stood up and crossed the room, taking a seat again at the breakfast counter. It was probably completely inappropriate that he immediately had a flash of sitting up at a bar in a diner and ordering himself a slice of pecan pie, but the image did flash through his head. He might have asked for a slice, but Sam didn’t look like he was in the mood for jokes, just then.

“Lucifer isn’t showin’ up again, Sam. Here or anywhere. He’s in the cage, with Michael, where they belong. The only thing with a boner for you these days is the vampires and werewolves you and Ric have so much fun with all summer, and you know how to deal with them.”

He crossed his arms on the table.

Dean was saying a lot all at once, things Sam felt like he needed to unpack and expand upon further. He hadn’t been saying that Cas was simply or that angels weren’t complicated. He just knew that if Dean had told Cas he loved him and Cas hadn’t understood what he meant or returned the feelings that it could have been more easily brushed aside. It could be with humans, just like if Cas had been the one to start things with Dean and Dean hadn’t loved him back. Dean couldn’t bounce back to just being friends, at least Sam didn’t think his brother would.

And sometimes it wasn’t even the worry about losing Ric as a friend but just losing him in general. Sure Sam had managed to get out of the hunting life as best as he could. They’d dealt with all that Heaven and Hell apocalypse shit and Lucifer was long gone from his life. He hadn’t seen any demons coming around looking for him in years. But the thought of one night waking up to find Ric burning on the ceiling above him. It was enough that Sam wanted to hurl then and there.

Getting up from the couch he crossed to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water from the sink and downing it in four large swallows.

Thinking of Ric dying because of him was worse than thinking of Ric being with someone else.

Setting the glass down Sam sighed and ran his hand back through his hair pushing it from his face.

“Maybe he’s better off settling down with someone else, maybe he’d be safer that way,” he said, still in his spot by the kitchen sink not sure he was ready to turn around and face Dean or the rest of the conversation just yet.

Dean watched his brother slip into the kitchen, shoulders hunched. Maybe it had been a mistake to talk about this; looked like he’d brought up a whole lot of other crap that he hadn’t really connected before. Sam looked miserable.

“You’re not cursed, Sam. I know you feel like it, sometimes, but you’re not. We’re not, this family is not cursed, and neither are you.” He doubted that Ric would even think about settling down with someone else; no way, the way he looked at Sam, would he do anything but date casually, with one foot out the door — but Dean didn’t think that would exactly be comforting to hear.

“And anyway. Safe? Since when is anything that you two do together safe? Every summer you hit the road looking for monsters, you think that’s safe? I’ve seen you get back into town bruised and battered and grinning like idiots — if Ric wanted safe, he wouldn’t be hunting with you two months a year. Wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to spend a semester trying to translate a spooky book. I don’t think that’s his thing.”

Some people were just danger magnets, or maybe danger junkies; Ric was as bad as Sam and Dean, or, no, as bad as Sam at least. But Dean had tumbled into being particularly stupid since he had an angel at his back, being all unkillable and protective. Never mind that. Not the point. Point was, Ric never seemed too interested in doing anything by half, or staying safe.

Still, Dean sensed he’d pushed too hard. Maybe. Hard to be sure, except that Sam had looked lonely when he arrived and now looked utterly bereft.

There was no possible way to know if Dean was right without asking Ric, but the trouble with asking Ric was that one way or another he would give an answer and one way or another Sam would have to respond to that answer. Either Ric liked him and they’d have to find a way to approach what they had from a relationship point of view, or Ric didn’t like him and they had to figure out to get past the awkwardness that was Sam asking him.

Heaving a sigh he picked up the remote and tossed it in Dean’s direction, his mind not on anything else at the moment but what his brother had been saying to him.

Was he interested in Ric? Maybe. Well, actually yes he was. Was he happy with where they were though? Was he happy with his life as it was? That was also a strong yes. He was very happy right now and he didn’t want to mess that up. He could be happier, if he had Ric here full time he’d be much happier. And if he had Ric here full time as a partner and more than a friend, well his life would be pretty damn perfect.

“You didn’t lose anything in asking Cas,” he said softly, biting his lip nervously. “I mean, sure you all were friends but Cas is an angel and I don’t know, if you asked him and he didn’t respond the way you wanted you could have just brushed it off and Cas would have been fine doing so. It’s different with Ric.”

It didn’t make Dean asking Cas for something more any less of a risk, not really. But he did stand to lose a lot less in asking.

Dean cocked an eyebrow, and smiled. Could Sam even hear himself? “Oh, because angels, man, they’re not complicated at all. The guy swoops through Hell to pull me out of it, saves my ass more times than I can count, I’ve made the basic assumption that he is, in fact, junkless — and now we’re practically married, living in a cabin in the woods and making it worthwhile learning yoga… yeah, that’s a pretty straightforward love story.”

He jabbed Sam with his elbow, smiling. Gentle, teasing, but not mean. Sam looked a little fragile, and Dean was starting to think he’d made a mistake even bringing this up. He and Ric had a good thing going; their summer road trips, nerdy email exchange getting excited over artifacts that would make even Castiel snooze… but Dean still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing out on that little bit more that he could sense, there.

“I think if you’re worried that the friendship would be ruined if he didn’t feel the same way, you’re underestimating the friendship as well as his feelings. But like I said, Sam. I’m not here to tell you what to do. You’re the only one who knows whether it’s worth the risk.”

He paused for a moment.

When it came right down to it, Sam knew how he and Dean loved was different as night and day. Dean craved love, he craved tactile attention and affection. Maybe it had come from the way they were raised in their early years. Dean had had mom, she had been affectionate with him. He’d only had Dean, and Dean hadn’t been allowed to be all that affectionate because of Dad. It had been hard too, after Jess, to want to be close to people.

It seemed like an excuse, Sam knew that. But honestly, he just didn’t get that close to people anymore. Ric was a friend, Ric had been his friend for years now. The last thing he wanted to do was something that would mess that up, so if Dean was wrong—Sam wasn’t sure if he wasn’t to risk that at all.

“I don’t know Dean,” he sighed. “I’ve thought about it. I just didn’t think Ric was interested. What if you are reading this situation wrong? What then?”

He messed things up with Ric and lost his friend forever? Sam couldn’t chance that happening, he couldn’t say that enough.

Dean listened, and wished Sam was as transparent and easy to read as he had been as a little kid. Too much had happened, and he was guarded in a different way, now, and it made sense, it did. Safer that way. And Dean might not have understood everything about the way Sam was, these days, about love, sex, romance, any of it, but he knew Sam was generally pretty happy, even if he was feeling the absence of another person having been in his space for six months.

Dean nodded.

“I’m not here to double-dog-dare you, Sam. I don’t know the dude the way you do. And I sure as shit don’t want to make things harder. But I couldn’t sit around knowing what I’ve seen and keep my mouth shut any more. Maybe you’re right, man. Maybe you’re right, and I’m wrong, and if you’ve got all you need right now, then you’ve got enough. And no one can tell you what risk is worth it. Not even me, and let’s face it, I’m the big brother and I know more than you do. But I can tell you that when he looks at you… I think I’m right.”

He scratched his head, and thought for another moment.

“If you don’t wanna try because you don’t wanna try, because you’re not interested, or because you’re happy with what you have, then okay, you’ve got nothing to lose. But if you don’t wanna try because you don’t think he feel that was about you, then… take it from an idiot, putting off the chance to be happy doesn’t do anyone any favors.”

Sam didn’t know what Dean was yelling, maybe because he was scared. It would make sense, being in the presence of a freak would do that to people.

“I haven’t,” he said, shaking his head with wide eyes. “I don’t know if I want to. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Trying it himself could mean it getting out of control. In fact, Sam knew he wasn’t ever going to try to use it again, not ever.

“I still think we should leave, I don’t want to hurt Ric and dad will know what to do,” he added, though he didn’t want to leave at all. It was the only option he thought made sense for what they were going through.

Shit, he’d scared the kid. Too easy to do when he was trying to keep a lid on his own fears, while completely freaking out. He forced himself to relax, and offered Sam what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“We’ll figure it out, Sam,” he promised. Maybe Ric would prove to be good for something after all, who knew. He wasn’t sure how he felt about using magic, even though it was Sam, and even though he trusted Sam and didn’t believe that anything the kid could do would be evil. But he also didn’t think he liked the idea that power might build up and then escape when Sam was feeling emotional. Seemed the smart money was on learning to control it.

“I won’t do anything that risks us being torn apart again, Sammy,” he said, seriously. “Now, c’mon. There’s gotta be more to life than this. You chasing any pretty girls at that school of yours?”

Sam was skeptical of a lot of things right now.

Mostly he wasn’t sure that what Dean was telling him was the truth or not. He knew Dean didn’t want to hurt him, and he knew his job was to look out for him or whatever. He also got that Dean had messed up in getting caught but that didn’t change the fact that’d he’d said he wanted to stay gone. It was fine, really. Sam was still upset, he was still hurting, but he knew he needed to respect Dean’s decisions and stop guilting him in to feeling worse for them.

“It’s ok Dean, I understand,” he said softly, forcing himself to instead focus on what else had been said to him. “I don’t know. It felt…powerful. I didn’t get the chance to think about it too much, I got scared.”

The power had rushed through him and tried to slam the door long before he’d really been able to take a chance to think about how he was feeling. And afterwards he’d just been scared of hurting Ric again and of what he was.

“Does this make me a…a freak?” he asked, hanging his head in shame. He hated that word, he hated thinking he was a freak.

Dean wished Bobby was there. Not his dad, because he didn’t think his dad would be as understanding as he should be — but Bobby, Bobby would have got it right. He would have known who to call, what to do…

Whatever was going on with Sam, Dean refused to think of him as a freak. He was just Sam. Dean’s baby brother. Nothing else mattered.

“You’re not a freak, Sam,” he said, more angrily than he’d meant to. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but you’re not a freak, you’re my brother. We’ll figure it out. We just need some time, and a plan.” Who was he angry at? Their father, mostly, he thought. Abandoning them this way, so he and Sam had to figure this stuff out for themselves. Not telling Dean what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. All of it. Dean bit his thumbnail and thought for a moment or two.

Had he just thought Dean was open with his emotions these days? Because he wanted to take that back, yeah he was definitely taking that back with the way Dean was stumbling over his works and looking for all the world like he’d welcome the floor opening up to eat him alive.

“You always this smooth with you words?” he asked, stalling in having to answer him.

The truth was that Sam didn’t know how he felt. He knew he liked Ric, he knew he was interested in having something more there between them than what was currently there. He knew it was awesome to have him around and that he’d gladly let him move in here if he wanted to. There was a lot about Ric that was enjoyable, like how they shared the same profession and hobbies, how they both knew the life of hunting and could hold their own. Ric was the one person outside of Cas and Dean that he could talk to about all this stuff.

But did Ric like him like that?

They’d never talked about that sort of thing before, not in all the times they’d hung out together. Sam could even say if Ric was straight or bi. He knew he’d had a wife, but he himself had had a Jess so that didn’t account for much at all.

“I don’t know Dean, it was different for you and Cas. You both knew the other wanted something more. I don’t know if Ric would even want that so what’s the point in ruining what we’ve got now?” he said frowning.

Dean sincerely wanted to get terribly drunk and forget about this conversation for good. And no, he wasn’t smooth. He scratched his head in frustration. This had seemed a lot simpler when he was talking about it with Cas.

“Okay, okay,” Dean said, trying another tactic. “You know the way Cas looks at me? I know you do, because you were the one cheerleading when we got our heads out of our asses and took the next step. That’s the way Ric looks at you, Sam. That man has been wildly, crazy, head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone can see it except you. Now, I know… I know you’re different about these things, you don’t jump in, you haven’t left a string of satisfied waitresses across the country… I know you lost Jess and that was hard, and I know…”

He didn’t really know, though. They didn’t talk about this all that much. He knew Sam took his sweet time getting used to someone new, and wasn’t prone to going his heart away. Didn’t wear it on his sleeve the way Ric did, either. Maybe Dean had it all wrong, here, that was entirely possible.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Sam gave off a deeply ambiguous vibe that Dean himself didn’t understand that well — Ric couldn’t have fared much better. Still, he’d really thought that after months of living together…

Keeping look out while Dean explored wasn’t exactly something Sam loved doing. He didn’t want to hurt Ric or go through his things, in fact he wanted to leave Ric’s life exactly as he’d found it but he knew running away wouldn’t do that. It all sucked and Sam had enough time to stew on it by the time Dean was shutting his bedroom door and turning around to ask him for details.

“I don’t know Dean,” he shrugged. “I was just mad, I was mad at you for not wanting to have me around and I was mad at Ric for asking me to talk on the phone to you. Then I…I felt something really weird pule through me and the door was slamming shut.”

Sam sat down heavily on his bed, Wendigo’s head resting on his leg when the dog jumped up there with him, unwilling to leave his side.

“Do you think dad will know what to do?” he asked, curious if they should find the man now and let him known that his son was as big of a freak as he’d thought he was.

Dean felt his face fall, his heart crumple. He sat on Sam’s desk chair. Shit, this room… it looked like the kind of bedroom any normal kid with a normal family might have, laptop on the desk for Sam’s homework (and, Dean hoped, the occasional video game, since Sammy was too young for porn but really needed to let loose sometimes), clothes in the wardrobe, shoes on the floor. He felt like he was visiting one of those very normal friends that he sometimes made at a new school, and for a moment, he hated their dad for not giving this to them. This was what Sam was supposed to have.

“It was never that I didn’t want you around,” he said quietly, berating himself for letting Sam think so. “You’re my brother. I always want you around. And not just because it’s the only job I have that matters in the slightest. Truth is… I couldn’t forgive myself for how badly I fucked up, Sammy, I just… I fucked up. If things had gone any more sideways than they did — I couldn’t forgive myself.”

He rubbed his hands together, tired and feeling shitty.

Privately, he wasn’t sure John would have a clue what to do about Sam, since his usual method of shooting first wasn’t going to cut it.

“If he doesn’t, he’ll know someone who does,” Dean said. “Pastor Jim… Bobby. I don’t know. All that matters is we’ll figure it out. And in the meantime we gotta keep our wits about us.”

He met Sam’s eyes. Hard to admit there was a tiny part of him that was jealous, but there was.

Dean was a lot more open with his emotions these days, Sam was thankful for it even if it meant having to hear him gush about Cas from time to time. If you asked him it was about damn time for it too. He remembered when they’d been younger, when he’d just left Stanford and Dean had been so emotionally uptight. God, he hadn’t even been able to fully admit to some feelings back then. It was different now, and Sam was glad.

“You look like Cas when you do that,” he snorted, pushing himself up on the couch and closing his book trying his best to look annoyed by his brother even though he was anything but.

“Classes Dean, I don’t know. Hell maybe he was just excited to get back to his own place, can’t blame him,” Sam said finally. “Last year he’d had time to plan for coming back from the semester. This year he has to get his house in order and everything sorted before going back to work. I think he wanted enough time to make sure everything was good.”

And Sam didn’t blame him. He couldn’t imagine rushing to a place he hadn’t lived in in months only to have to plan for the semester and everything too. It was a lot for anyone but Ric would have to adjust to a different time zone too and different weather.

Dean scratched the back of his head. Was Sam really this dense? Oh. Yes, yes he was, and Ric was at least as dense again. For a pair of very well-educated guys, they were idiots. Dean should have just smacked their heads together before Ric left.

Ric was not looking forward to getting back to a New York winter. How many times in the last few months had he said something about how cramped his place was, how closed-in New York felt compared to the wide streets and of Palo Alto, the size of the Stanford campus? Maybe it was just because he shared his living space with Castiel, but Dean recognized wistful when he saw it.

Hell, he knew what a couple of idiots who were in love and just not clued in yet looked like, for the exact same reason.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess. Lots to do. Yeah. Yeah.”

Oh, hell. No, he wasn’t doing this. Cas could come and do it. Maybe Cas should appear in Ric’s back seat with a burger and some weird words of wisdom, and make him turn around, before it was too late.

“Did you ever think about asking him to stay?” Dean said. He raised his hand before Sam could answer. “I don’t mean, hey, Ric, you can stay for Christmas if you want. I mean, hey, Ric, please stay for Christmas, I want you here. Or — for example — hey, Ric, move to California, I want you here.”

Dammit, this really should have been Cas. Dean was screwing it up. But now he’d started talking, he was tripping over his tongue in the rush to say the next dumbass thing.

“Or — and this is just me spitballing, here — hey, Ric, I think you should stay because there might be some… fee—- uh, feelings that we should, you know. Feel. No, I mean, talk about.” He was purple. This was worse than the first time John had explained safe sex. So, so much worse.