Well, hello there. I've never written a fanfiction before, so this is my first. I felt very angsty all of a sudden so I said hell, why not turn those emotions into a potentially life-ruining story about Sam and Dean's current affiliation. It's probably awful, butI'm not one to judge since I'd probably be biased; personally I've always hated my writings. But hey, I never know. Maybe some of you will enjoy it. :)

The first few paragraphs feature the present, and the rest is a flashback that will be continued late rin the following chapters.

Sitting in the passenger seat of the '67 Impala, he glanced quickly at the driver. "Jerk," he said, hoping for the childish and immature reply he remembered his brother giving when they were younger. When they were innocent. When there was no Hell, no angels, and no apocalypse. When the only thing they had to worry about were demons and the empty road ahead.

Things were different now. Sure, there was always some uneasiness between him and Dean, no matter how small it was. When Sam chose to abandon the family business as a teenager to pursue a normal life, he knew that it upset both his father and brother deeply. But at that time, nothing else mattered to him except for getting out an escaping from the life predestined for him. He thought he had created his own destiny. He planned it out – go to college, attend law school, fit in and be another face in the crowd. No more demons, no more supernatural. Just an ordinary, average, apple pie life.

But he should have known better. Once in the family business, always in the family business. Looking back at his past decisions and analyzing his current predicament, Sam realizes that. The only words uttered between him and his brother over the past day were simple facts about the current job. It had been like this for the last week now, nothing but quick, breathless murmurs and bickering arguments passing between the two.

It all started with what seemed like a normal evening. The brothers had just finished a stressful case that called for assistance from the angel Castiel. When Sam came about consecutive weekly newspapers from the humble town of Wabash, Indiana involving decapitations, he didn't think the situation would be an attempt from Abbadon to lure him and his brother, and therefore Crowley, to a metropolis overtaken by demons and fallen angels out for the kill. In light of recent events, Sam still felt enraged at Dean for allowing Gadreel to penetrate his deepest interior corridors. Subsequently, Dean had also begun to develop doubts as to whether or not he could rely on his brother to be trustworthy in the future. So when the event that Sam chose to dig into revealed itself to be trap, you can imagine the uncertainties that Dean felt towards Sam. Could he rely on Sam being aware of the dangers that their spontaneous lives presented to them on a daily basis? Feeling uneasy about the steadiness of their relationship since Sam revealed that he would not have done the same as Dean when he placed his trust in whom he believed to be Ezekiel while Sam was in his dying, coma-induced state, Dean thought to himself, There must have been some way to tell that this was a setup. Maybe Sam's just not on his A-game yet. If Castiel hadn't arrived when he did, the brothers would have surely faced certain death. Abbadon had fled the scene when she realized Crowley had not followed them, but not without first commanding her brethren to corner the two in an abandoned warehouse.

His worriedness about his brother's current mental state was what led Dean to impose further questioning when they returned to the bunker late that night. "Listen, Sammy. I know you've told me not to bother you about this again, but tonight was a close call. How about I let you rest for the next few days while I skim – "

"Dean, stop. I know what you're going to suggest. I thought I was clear the last time – I'm perfectly fine. I can handle whatever life has to throw at me, I mean seriously, I've only been a part of this life for how long now? Since I was eight? Wait, scratch that, I was destined for this life ever since that night Mom died and Azazel fed me demon blood. Some time in the near future, you need to face the facts. I've been a part of this life just as long as you, and you can't treat me like your younger brother anymore." Sam took a brief moment to reflect upon his own words. Sure, he and Dean close, hell they were brothers after all, but he was older now, a grown up. He didn't need to be treated as an inferior. He didn't require the protection of his older brother. He could depend on himself. Couldn't Dean just understand?

"Trust me, I understand. But you're my little bro, it's my job to watch over you and keep you safe, no matter what. Sammy – "

Sam once again cut him short. "You know what," he said, finally letting his emotions prevail, "I'm done with this whole big brother, little brother deal. Yeah, sure, we're brothers. But only by blood. If you're going to continue to use your position as the elder to rule that it's your duty to ensure my safety, then I don't want to be your brother by heart anymore. I'm my own person, Dean, and you need to get that through that thick skull of yours. I realize that you have your own needs, and that you can't stand being alone, hence why you chose to trust an angel that you never even met before – you know what, now that I mention that, don't you think that was foolish on your part? You need to look at the situation from both sides, Dean. Maybe I'm not the only one that can't be relied upon," Sam stated, his voice rising throughout his speech. After releasing the some of the most inner thoughts of his mind, he had realized that he might have said too much.

Dean stared back at him with a sorrowful glare. What did this mean? Sure, Sam would still want to be involved in the job, but for how much longer? If they were to no longer be "brothers by heart", would he still want to remain in the family business after everything was over, after they finally finished with their battles against Heaven, and Abbadon, and Hell, and whatever other force currently in the works? Dean began to say more, but decided it was better not to. His two cents would just make the situation even worse. Maybe walking away this far into such a heated argument would make him a coward or quitter, or maybe it wouldn't. He didn't know, and frankly, he couldn't force himself to care anymore. No matter what Sam would say, there was no such thing as a brother if not a brother by heart. Feeling as if a thousand walls had just been smashed to pieces inside him, Dean backed away and retreated to his room, but not without glancing at the Sam before him, the last Sam that he would consider to be his own brother…