I Don't Want to be Right

Hold Me Sam

"Dean you're supposed to hug me back."

"Oh uh I'm sorry," I said, wrapping my arms around him.

"So now is the time when you tell me whats wrong," Sam said, "and don't tell me you're fine because I know you arent. So you are going to tell me right now, or I will never let you go, and I mean that." His voice sounded threatening.

"I, uh, I can't tell you," I said, trying to get free from his hug so I could go hide.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me" Sam said.

"You'll hate me and you'll leave me," I told him, still trying to wiggle out of his arms, but it was no use. He's a fucking moose! While I was trying to get away from Sam, his elbow hit my wrist and it made me gasp in pain. I grabbed my arm.

"Dean are you okay? You're hurt. What's wrong?" Sam asked, finally letting go of me. He was still in the way I wanted to move. I couldn't run away and hide. He started to reach for my hand. 

"Your arm is hurt, now let me see," Sam demanded.

"N-no, Sam its nothing. I swear, I'm okay," I told him. Tears were starting to top water as I realized that I couldn't hide from Sam anymore. He is going to hate me and leave. I don't want him to leave.

"No Dean, you're not. Now tell me what's wrong or I'll leave, right now, and I won't come back until you decide to talk to me and tell me whats wrong. I'm not bluffing—I will leave," Sam said, slightly raising his voice.

"Okay, I'll tell you. Just promise me you'll stay," I pleaded. "Sammy, you're gonna be so pissed at me, and you're gonna be so confused about what I'm about to tell you, and I'm sorry in advance for all the pain I'm about to cause you. Please don't yell at me. Just talk to me, okay? Because if you yell, I don't know what I'd do, but it wouldn't end well."

"Dean, just show me," Sam said in a kind and gentle voice. He seemed happy that I was actually opening up to him. He isn't going to be happy for much longer.

"Sammy, I cut myself on a regular basis. I do it on purpose, because I feel that I deserve the pain," I said so quietly, I thought he hadn't heard me, but he had, as he grabbed my hand forcefully and gently rolled my sleeve up. He gently removed the bandage that was stained with fresh blood from when his elbow hit my arm. He saw the cuts. There were at least 50.

"Oh my. Dean, why'd you do this?" Sam asked, tears lining his beautiful hazel eyes.

"I..uh, I'm just stressed about stuff," I tried to lie to Sam. I knew he would see right through me, but I had to at least try.

"Bullshit. That's not what this is about. Please, just tell me what's going on. Why are you hurting yourself?" Sam asked while still trying to hold back tears. I feel horrible. I always cause pain to him. I probably do deserve to die. I don't deserve be Sam's brother.

"I..I just can't, Sammy," I said while raising my voice.

"Why not?" Sam asked, yelling back.

"Because you'll hate me, or worse" I told him, finally letting the tears fall.

"What could be worse than me hating you?" Sam asked confusion clear in his voice.

"You would... you would leave me, and probably even disown me," I told him.

"I would never. Okay Dean? No matter what you do, no matter what you've done, I will never leave, and I couldn't ever hate you, or disown you," he told me, his voice filled with love.

"I'm scared to tell you, Sammy. This might be worse than you think," I told him.

"How?" he asked, still clearly confused.

"I, uh I'm... I'm bisexual, Sammy," I said with a defeated tone, looking down at my feet and waiting for the disgust and disowning to come.

"What?" Sam asked, sounding shocked for a second.

"You heard me, Sammy. I'm bisexual," I said slightly louder, slowly looking up into those eyes of his.

"I heard you, and I'm okay with it. How long have you known?" Sam asked.

"Since i was sixteen," I told him."

"Oh wow. why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked, hurt evident in his voice.

"Because you'll disown me for the man I love," I told him.

"Who?" he asked.

"Sam, the man I'm in love with is... you," I confessed. His face went from curiosity to shock in less then two seconds. I knew it! I knew he'd hate me! While he was busy comprehending what I said, I took the opportunity to run to bathroom and lock the door. I could cry and await the hatred from Sam there.

--

Soon after i had hidden in the bathroom, I heard Sam stand up and walk towards the bathroom door. He knocked on the door lightly and said, "Dean, please come out of there. I don't hate you. I will never hate you." 

"But you should hate me, Sam. I'm a freak— a fuck up. You deserve a better brother" I said, the last few words coming out in sobs. 

"Aw, Dean, please get out of there. I don't want a 'better' brother, I want you. I've always wanted you, in every way possible," Sam quietly said.

**

I felt a glimmer of hope at his words. "What?" I whispered just loud enough to be heard through the door. 

"I feel the same about you, Dean. I was afraid to tell you, until you told me how you felt." His voice lowered as he said, "Please come out." Tears of surprise and happiness gathered in my eyes as I unlocked the bathroom door. Sam was standing just outside of the door. He took me into his arms. I buried my head into his shoulder. We slid to the ground. I was now sitting in his lap. "Let me see your wrists," Sam whispered as he pulled my hands off of him. He studied the slowly healing cuts and many scars, even running his finger over some. "I can't change your past, but I can help your future. Promise me, Dean, that you'll stop hurting yourself—for me, if not anything else." He brought my wrists up to his lips and kissed them lightly. His actions made the tears that I'd been trying so hard to hold back fall down my cheeks. 

"I don't have a need to hurt myself anymore," I said through the tears. Sam wrapped his arms around me again, holding me close to him. I moved my head to plant a small kiss on his cheek. 

"Now, you gotta give me more than that," Sam said flirtatiously, pulling me back from him a little. I smiled at him and captured his lips in a long awaited kiss. He pulled me closer again as the kiss continued. My hands instinctively slid up to entangle in his hair. 

Much sooner than I wanted him to, Sam pulled away and broke the kiss. Our foreheads were still touching. "I love you, Sammy." 

"Love you, too, jerk," Sam whispered. 

I whispered back, "Bitch," before we both broke out into laughter. Love and happiness filled the dark spaces in my head that originally were a source of pain.