Dean lifted the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply. He exhaled, watching the gray cloud dissipate into the dark sky.

"Geez, Winchester, you'd better slow down before you get yourself hooked to these things."

Dean grinned, taking another drag as he looked over at Benny Smith, who was sprawled along the railroad tracks to his right. He blew the smoke in Benny's face, laughing as the other boy coughed and waved a hand through the cloud.

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Benny-Boo. You know how hard it was for us to score these smokes,"

"Yeah," Matt Davies, laying on Dean's other side, sat up and gestured with his own cigarette. "If it wasn't for Dean-o here, we never would've scored them from my dad. And if he ever finds out we have 'em, he'll kill me. So light up."

Benny rolled his eyes, but took the cigarette and lit it with the lighter Dean gave him. He took a tentative puff and doubled over coughing. Matt and Dean both cracked up exchanging grins and teasing Benny for being such a pansy.

Dean shook his head, still chuckling, and lay back down on the tracks. He sucked in another drag as he stared at the star-filled sky. Matt and Benny quieted and lay back as well, shoulders brushing Dean's as they settled.

They were 15, reckless and far too young for the responsibilities dumped on their shoulders. Dean had clicked with them instantly, finding close companions in the teens living in the trailer park that served as the Winchester's current living space.

Matt's dad beat him and his mom. Benny was the youngest of three and the only one who stuck around to take care of his drugged-up single mother.

They were brothers in tragedy. Survivors under fire.

The nights they snuck out to goof off on the tracks were a balm to their scars and the only times they could cease to be the family foundation and simply be boys.

Dean reached the end of his cigarette and flicked the butt at Benny, careful to miss but close enough to scare. He pulled another from the box and lit it, watching the end flare in the dark.

He closed his eyes, letting the solitude and nicotine relax him.

"Dean?"

His eyes popped open and Matt groaned beside him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Dean ignored the mutter and sat up, twisting to look behind him.

Sam stood at the edge of the woods lining the tracks, biting his lip.

Dean sighed, letting the disappointment at the intrusion fill his chest before letting it go and standing up.

"What's up, little brother?" he called.

Sam stepped toward him before stopping, twisting his fingers in his ratty sleep shirt and scuffing his foot along the rock-covered soil.

"I just- I wasn't sure where you'd gone and I thought…" He looked away, eyes darting toward Matt before dropping.

Dean glanced at his friend, shoving the boy's shoulder when he saw the glare he was sending Sam.

He looked back to his brother, who was still staring at the ground. He had been sleeping when Dean left, but must have woken with another nightmare. Bad dreams were nothing new, but had taken a nasty turn after Dean was injured in a wendigo hunt last month. He'd healed fine, but it had been pretty bad, even for them. Sam had woken screaming nearly every night since, crawling into bed with Dean and shaking against him until he fell asleep again. The dreams usually got worse when Dad was on a hunt, as he was now, but Dean had been hoping he'd get back before they hit.

Guess not.

He took a drag on his cigarette, prompting a quick scowl from Sam, before motioning the kid over.

"Come on, Sammy, you can hang with us."

Matt scoffed and stood as well.

"Wait a second, man! This isn't babysitting time."

Sam blushed and halted his approach. Dean glared at the teen and shoved his shoulder again, harder this time.

"Knock it off, Matt. He won't bother us or tell anyone. It's fine."

Matt dropped his smoke and crushed it aggressively with his sneaker.

"We came out here to get away, Winchester," he said. "Sammy is old enough to take care of himself, he doesn't need to hang on you like a leech. Right, kid?"

Sam backed away, curling in on himself slightly, a habit Dean had never really understood given Sam's small size.

"Yeah, it's okay, Dean," he said. "I'll just go back. It'll be fine."

Dean flung an arm toward him.

"No, Sam, stay. We're not doing anything anyway. Come sit with us."

He glared at Matt as he spoke, daring the other boy to refuse. Matt narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth before reaching down to snatch the box of cigarettes.

"I'm out of here, Winchester, have fun with the baby."

He stalked away, back to the trailer park, barking, "Come on, Benny!" over his shoulder as he left.

Benny shot Dean an apologetic look before scurrying after the other boy.

Dean clenched his fists and jaw, anger throbbing through his blood as he watched them go. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to Sam.

His little brother was staring at him, tears making tracks down his cheeks in the moonlight.

"Aw, Sammy,"

"Why'd you do that, Dean? They were your friends and I could've just gone back. You shouldn't have-"

Dean strode over to his brother and grabbed his shoulder.

"Hey," he said sternly. "Listen to me. Those guys were dicks."

"But," Sam interrupted.

"No," Dean said, giving Sam's shoulder a shake. "They were dicks and a waste of time anyway. Now, what're you doing out here anyway?"

Sam wiped his nose with his wrist.

"I had a- I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep, so I went looking for you. I'm sorry for leaving the trailer."

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders, pulling him in close as they walked back to the trailer.

"Don't be, Sparky. I shouldn't have left without a note."

They walked quietly for a few minutes before Sam burst out, "I'm sorry I screw everything up for you and I'm sorry I'm such a baby."

Dean stopped and tugged Sam's chin up.

"What? You never. Dude, I don't need other kids, not like you seem to. As long as I've got you and Dad, I'm okay. So quit worrying."

Sam pushed his face into Dean's chest, hugging him around the waist as they resumed walking. Dean pushed his hand into Sam's thick hair, rubbing his scalp.

"And you're not a baby. You're just a little bitch, got it?"

Sam laughed against him and looked up, face glowing with adoration.

"You'll always be my best friend, Dean."

Dean pulled the kid close again, heart full and face split it in a grin so big it hurt.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Dude, we're totally gonna own this competition!"

Sam grinned at Matt's declaration, excitement for the upcoming debate making him as giddy as his friend.

"As long as we keep going the way we have been, I think we might actually have a chance," Lauren pushed hair behind her ear as she walked, several textbooks held tightly to her chest.

Sam raised his eyebrows as Matt crowed again and thrust a fist into the air.

"If Lauren thinks we can do this, it's practically a done deal," he exclaimed.

Sam and Lauren shared fondly exasperated looks and rolled their eyes.

Sam had only been at the small Oklahoma school for a few weeks, but he had instantly found camaraderie with the fellow law school hopefuls. They studious, committed, fun and didn't mind risking social standing to befriend the new kid, for which Sam was eternally grateful.

They continued chatting about the upcoming trial as they walked out of the school and into the parking lot.

Matt quickly waved goodbye and hopped into his mom's waiting car.

Sam and Lauren made their way to the side lot, talking and laughing about teachers and students. As they approached the lot, the all-too-familiar sound of blasting classic rock grew louder and Sam's stomach twisted itself tighter.

As they rounded the school's gymnasium, Sam's gut clenched and he wished desperately that he could disappear.

Dean was standing at the Impala's fender, engaged in the most disgusting round of tonsil tennis Sam had ever seen. The girl was sitting on the hood, legs wrapped around Dean's waist and hands buried in his spiked hair.

"Oh," Lauren's cheeks were bright red and her wide eyes fixed on the couple before her gaze jumped away and landed firmly on the asphalt in front of them.

Sam tried to think of something to say or do as his gut clenched in embarrassment, but Dean's 'Sam-o-meter' went off before anything came to mind. His brother pulled away and turned, wiping a wrist against his lips.

"Sammy!"

Sam winced as Lauren turned to him, felt his cheeks heat as she looked between the brothers.

"Oh," she squeaked again. "He's your…?"

"Brother," Sam supplied, shifting on his feet and looking away.

"Oh. Well. I'm gonna- I'll just- See you tomorrow, Sam."

Lauren turned and quickly disappeared around the corner.

"Bye."

Sam called uselessly, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned back. The girl had jumped off the hood and was tugging at Dean's sleeve. She seemed to be saying something, but Dean's eyes were fixed on Sam, a line creased between his eyebrows.

Sam sighed and walked over, avoiding Dean's eyes as he walked to the passenger door.

"Heya, Sammy. Is everything-"

"Can we just go?" Embarrassment had quickly curdled to anger and Sam felt no qualms about cutting Dean off and giving him the cold shoulder.

"Yeah. Okay," Dean said, studying him for a moment before saying something to the girl that earned him a smile and quick kiss.

Sam rolled his eyes and stared out his window, slapping the radio off and jiggling his knee.

Dean slid in and started the car, pulling onto the road and glancing over at Sam.

"So," Dean started, drawing the word out. "Dad's out of town tonight. Wanna grab pizza and a movie or something?"

"Can't. I've got homework."

"Yeah, okay."

Dean tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel in a silent beat.

"Why'd your girlfriend run off?"

Sam huffed.

"She's just a friend, Dean."

"So she's available?"

Sam stared at him incredulously.

"Just sayin', if you're not going to tap that, then…"

Sam narrowed his eyes and turned away.

"You know what, Dean? Screw you."

"Geez, grumpy. What crawled up your ass and died? Just making conversation, douchewad."

Sam ignored him and pressed his forehead against the glass. Honestly, how could Dean ever wonder why he never brought his friends around? Self-punishment wasn't his style and friendships lasted longer when they had as little Dean-exposure as possible.

He closed his eyes and pictured the letter hidden at the bottom of his duffle. Four months.

He could make it four months.

And then he'd never have to be ashamed of his brother again.