Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed my past srtories. Real life is imposing itself on me just now , so things are slow.

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I'm Good

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"I'm good." It was Sam's catch-phrase; his standard answer lately whenever Dean asked him anything.

Initially he had taken his little brother's words at face value but he had quickly come to understand that when Sam pronounced them, accompanied by a carefully neutral expression on his soft features, it meant the exact opposite.

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"I'm good," Sam had repeated again; slanted cat's eyes widening to child-like innocence; the well-honed puppies liquidly hypnotizing Dean into believing him as they had done so often before.

This time though Dean's withering glance nailed him to the seat, an unbelieving snort echoing loudly in the restricted space of their black metal home.

X

Dean's hands tightened on the wheel. He felt a spurt of anger at Sam's blatant attempt to hide whatever the hell was going on with him.

It was an emotion that surprised him, for was he not the Zen master in keeping his feelings to himself, of pushing down his anxieties, of having laid down the 'no chick-flick' rule.

He should have been happy that Sam was keeping his worries to himself, for his kid brother was doing exactly what he had preached since he had gone to get him at Stanford. He remembered the days when it was Sam who wanted him to talk, to babble like a girl about his feelings, to bare his soul; all things Dean had regularly quashed,

Strange how things turned out, now it was he who wanted his brother to open up, to pour our his fears; only Sam was the one who no longer wanted to share, who kept his sentiments to himself, pushing them down like Dean had done.

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'Enough of this crap,' Dean cussed silently, abruptly pulling the heavy car to the side of the road, Sam's startled expression converging on him at the unexpected move.

"What's going on Dean? What's with the emergency stop? You feeling okay?" a vein of concern crept into his sibling's voice.

Dean flexed his hands on the wheel. The solidness of his Baby at times seemed the only reality in his whole shitty life. He commanded and she obeyed. Their relationship was simple and straightforward, the opposite of that with his complicated little brother and with himself; for in his own way he was as freaked-up as Sam, if not more.

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He paused a moment before twisting his body around and facing his sibling. He wasn't in the mood to beat about the bush, so he jumped right in.

"I'm good! That's it? That's all you have to say, Sam? We both know that's bullshit. We both know it's a lie. You're anything but good and neither am I,... so... please mind-wipe those words from your memory-banks 'cos I never want to hear them again! You get that?"

"Dean..." Sam drew back in surprise at the intense expression on Dean's face.

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"Don't Dean me, don't puppy-eye me, don't …...just don't! This has to stop, man. Enough with the push-it-all-down-Winchester-fashion." The broody intensiveness in his eyes gave way to bone-tiredness as the short burst of anger burned itself out like a flaming meteorite in the atmosphere.

He passed a hand over his face, composing himself, taking a moment to get his priorities in order, though a moment was all he needed, for he only had the one and that was the overgrown younger brother who was staring at him, a bemused expression on his face.

"Dean.." Sam tried again.

"Sammy, listen. You and me man, that's all we've got, " Dean broke in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I thought I was in this for the hunting, for the thrill, for vengeance against Azazel, for any number of reasons, but the truth is, man, it's always been about you; about looking out for you, like it was imprinted in me... It's what I do best, what defines me."

He held up his hands as Sam went to speak.

"Just let me get this out, 'kay. Those folks out there who have regular families; wife, two kids, mortgage, might think existing solely to keep your brother safe is weird and freaky, but I've had that life. I could have stayed with Lisa and Ben, I could have even found someone else..." a twist of humour came to his lips, "I could have had them lining up outside the door if I'd wanted to, but none of that is for me."

He stared Sam right in the eye so there would be no misunderstanding, no misinterpretation.

"You're my life, Sam. When you died at Cold Oak, I would have followed you if I hadn't made that crossroads deal. Maybe I should just have lain down next to you on that dirty mattress and let myself die; maybe that would have been the smarter choice.

No Hell for me and most of all no Hell for my little brother. I tried to keep you safe Sammy., I tried so hard! I've just not been good enough and now something else bad is coming your way and here we are going down the same road; keeping things to ourselves as if we'd never learned that keeping secrets only gets us into more trouble.

We gotta tell each other everything, man. It's gotta be me and you against the world, for we've got them all on our asses; demons, angels, monsters. We seem to attract all the crap that's out there!"

"Sammy..." Dean's eyes morphed into an expert imitation of his younger brother's soulful expression and it seemingly had the same effect on Sam as Sam's on him, for his brother twisted around and pulled Dean to him, long arms winding themselves familiarly around his brother's body, undeterred by the awkwardness of the car's interior.

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"Dean.. " Sam repeated for the third time; the one-syllable word full of such meaning that it could be interpreted in a thousand different ways, and Sam had used them all, from love to despair to anger, Now it was pronounced in understanding, in con-division with his brother's chick-flick speech.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to hide anything from you," he whispered into his brother's neck. "I hate to have to worry you more than I need to, is all."

He felt Dean twitch at his words and he held on tighter. "Everything you said is how I feel too. Maybe your job is to look out for me, but Hell knows my job is to look out for you as well, Dean.

You know, I'd die for you, man. You gotta know that Dean. Please... tell me you do. I'd be dead over and over if it wasn't for you. You keep me sane, Dean. You always have. There'll be no more secrets; I promise," Sam hitched. " You want it all, you're gonna get it, but don't say I didn't warn you."

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Dean heaved a sigh and pulled unsteadily out of his brother's embrace.

"There's nothing you can tell me that would make me think less of you or .. ," his voice dropped even lower, "or love you less."

Sam bit his bottom lip and turned away, the raw emotion in Dean's eyes overwhelming him.

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The older Winchester turned the key and the Impala roared into life.

Neither brother was in any shape to say more. Both were emotionally exhausted by the past five minutes and both welcomed the ear-splitting rock music that blared out from the Impala's speakers.

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The enD