"Sam."

The 29 year-old man turned toward the voice. The speaker was another man, in his early 30s with short cut dark blond hair and a large smattering of light freckles across his nose. He wore a worn leather jacket and a hopeful look in his green eyes.

"Oh god, Sam, it's really you! Where the hell have you been?" The elder walked up to Sam and gave him a huge bear hug, seemingly not at all uncomfortable with Sam's unusually large frame. As he pulled back, he continued, "You haven't been answering any of your phones and Bobby and I were starting to get worried."

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Sam had never met this strange man in his life before. The beaming smile on the leather clad man was quickly swept away by a tidal wave of emotions, the most prominent seeming to be confusion, hurt and desperation. Suddenly, Sam felt like he'd committed a crime against this strange man, which was silly because this man obviously had him confused with someone else. Someone else with his name.

"Sammy, it's me, Dean. Your big brother that's been looking after your bitchy little ass since I was four. Ring a bell?" Sam shook his head in the negative, so Dean continued, a little more than slightly panicky, "Come on, Sammy! You can't have just forgotten about me! What about Dad or the Yellow Eyed Demon?" Sam just stared blankly at the obviously disturbed man.

"I'm sorry, man, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sam quickly walked away from Dean back into the throng of people on the way to work as Dean stared after his brother who had disappeared a year ago. Without any emotion on his face, Dean slowly walked to his '67 Chevy Impala and got in, closing the door behind him. For a long moment, he looked at the empty passenger seat and remembered what it had been like to have it filled before he turned on the ignition and started to drive away from the apartment building he'd briefly reunited with his brother at. A single tear fell from his filled eyes as the building slowly faded from view. Sam finally was able to have the normal dream he'd always wanted without the fear of supernatural interference and Dean was not going to ruin it for him.

An old Kansas song started playing on the radio, Dean singing along out of tune.

Carry on my wayward son

There'll be peace when you are done

Lay your weary head to rest

Don't you cry no more