Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

A/N: I'm still not very happy with the writing this season, so I'm substituting my own (again)! This would take place at a moment during the hunt as they're getting ready to go out and continue trying to figure out the case. It popped into my head when Dean was snoring and Cas and Jack were at the table, I thought Sam's eyes would open and show him as awake. Of course, that didn't happen.

Oh, well. Enjoy!


He tried everything he could think of to make Dean happy. Every single thing. He found a hunt, the very thing his brother lived for. He ate heart attack inducing foods, because those were Dean's favorite. He offered booze and strippers to his brother, but nothing seemed to come close to pulling him out of the rut he'd fallen in since the loss of their mom and Cas.

Yes, he felt the loss, too. But he wasn't about to think that he felt it in the same, deep sense as Dean. Dean losing their mom and Cas was the equivalent to Sam losing Dean, and he had far too much experience with that situation to not understand the soul-deep ache that Dean had to be feeling since the night Jack was born.

If he was being honest, he understood why Dean might not like Jack very much. His arrival led to the departure of two of the most important people in Dean's life.

Now? Now, Dean was smiling again. Cas was back, and it was a win. It was a reason for them to hold onto hope and try to fix a broken world once again. To dare to believe that things weren't as impossible as they seemed.

Sam told Dean that it was good to see him smiling again, but he bit his tongue to keep himself from saying that he wished that he had been able to bring his smile back. He wished that he had been enough reason for Dean to keep hoping that the world could be better despite the losses they suffered.

It wasn't that he wasn't glad to have Cas back, or that he didn't consider it a win, too. He just… he felt himself being sidelined again. When they split up, Dean went with Cas and told Sam to go with Jack.

And Sam told himself that he didn't mind. That it was better to send him with Jack because they didn't know how Cas was with the kid, and Dean was at risk to kill Jack if he thought it was necessary. But no matter how many times he ran through that line of reasoning in his head, he still felt a bit of a sting that his brother didn't want him around. His brother wasn't happy with him around.

Nothing he tried to do made Dean as happy as Cas' return had. And, yeah, maybe that was like comparing apples and oranges, but he couldn't get as much as a smile out of his brother during those Dark Ages that Dean had termed as 'too damn long' when Cas asked.

He must have hidden his hurt well enough, because Dean hadn't mentioned his lack of enthusiasm. Then again, Dean was too enveloped in his own enthusiasm over a hunt that involved The Old West. Even on a normal day, he wasn't sure that Dean would notice. Not anymore, not like he used to.

He didn't pay attention to Sam like he used to. He laid off on his hovering, overprotective tendencies, and maybe Sam should feel childish for missing that. He knew that Dean cared. He had no doubt that Dean would be torn up if it had been him who died. But… was it too much to ask for Dean to be happy with him alive?

Dean started snoring again. While Sam was glad that Dean was getting decent rest, his own rest suffered. Instead of sleeping, he lied in bed and listened to Cas talk to Jack at the table of their motel room every night. And every night he was reminded that it was another part of something he was losing.

Before Cas returned, Dean had wanted nothing to do with Jack, and the majority of responsibility for him fell to Sam, which Sam hadn't minded. He finally had someone who trusted him. Someone who believed him without restraints or the need to double-check.

He had someone of his own, someone to mentor and guide.

That… that was Cas' now. The responsibility had been lifted from his shoulders when Cas returned, and he knew that it was how Kelly wanted it to be. She entrusted Jack's care to Cas, not Sam, but it still hurt to be cast away in that aspect as well.

With a deep breath, Sam splashed water on his face from the sink, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts. He didn't know how long he'd been in the bathroom, but eventually Dean would notice that it had been longer than it should be. He might ask what was taking Sam so long, but Sam figured that he wouldn't press the issue (or even see it as an issue) when Sam brushed the question off.

It was getting harder to stay in this place. In this life. Dean thrived in the hunter's life, especially when he had someone who only knew that life, and only wanted that life, at his side. And that wasn't Sam. It was Cas. Cas never wanted normal, and he never knew a life that didn't involve the supernatural.

Dean didn't need Sam. Dean only needed to know that he was alive.

He'd fallen back into the mindset of his teen years. The years he spent dreaming of a different life because his current life was slowing killing him. He felt that same strangling sensation, like something was wrapped around his neck and getting tighter so, so slowly to draw out his death as long as possible.

As much as he tried to pretend, this life wasn't meant for him.

He thought of getting up and leaving almost every day. He thought of telling Dean that he couldn't do this anymore, and that he trusted Dean would be okay as long as Cas had his back.

Dean had given up without trying to see—really see—the world around him for so long, he completely missed that Sam had given up as well. He'd given up trying to be his own person, instead always being toted along as Dean's brother. He'd given up trying to have his own friends; they all died or decided they'd prefer being Dean's friend, but associated with him because they had to.

He felt like a prisoner being forced into a strange form of isolation, all the things he wanted to say being bottled up inside because he had no one to say them to. His outburst at the shapeshifter therapist's office surprised even him, but he knew that more of those outbursts were bound to happen because it had been the truth. Dean may have apologized, but nothing changed. Nothing ever changed, and they never talked through their issues.

So, they built up, and Sam felt the tipping point approaching. The point where they would have to work out something new, or decide to call it and go their separate ways.

He heard a few knocks at the door.

"Sam? What's taking you so long? We have to go."

Sam almost smiled at that, but it didn't look joyful in the slightest when he caught sight of it in the mirror. Dean noticed his extended absence, but he didn't ask if something was wrong. He just wanted to get moving. He wanted to keep riding the momentum that came from his win at finding Cas alive again.

"Yeah, sorry," Sam said. "I'll be out in a second."

Sam took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. He pieced back together the mask he'd been wearing for so long to slip under Dean's radar, he was no longer sure that Dean saw it as just a mask, if he ever had.

He opened the door, not surprised to find that Dean wasn't waiting directly outside of it. He hadn't done that since Sam was doing the Trials and afterwards possessed by Gadreel. They had a lot of rough patches in the past years, and when he looked, he could see the scars in their relationship leftover from those times.

Dean glanced over at him as he exited the bathroom, and immediately turned to head out of the room. The reassuring smile for which Sam worked up enough energy turned out to be unnecessary.

He followed Dean, along with Cas and Jack, and watched Dean's back. In a way, it felt like a good description of what the majority of his life had been: following in his brother's footsteps, never able to stray from his path. Being hidden in his brother's shadow.

But Dean glanced at him over his shoulder, if only to make sure he was still there, and it almost felt worthwhile.

He almost felt worthwhile.


A/N: Please leave a review!