What Dean Wants

The streets were so dark; the only light was coming from the Impala's headlights. And it was so quiet, or was it just that he couldn't hear anything over the Metallica cassette he had blaring? He couldn't tell. Everything seemed different now. Even though things were back to normal. Should he go back? No. What was the point? He got his answer, over and over again. It was better this way too. He knew his father wouldn't be happy if he knew he'd forced Sammy into hunting again.

"Who cares if he doesn't like it?" Dean asked himself angrily, he then regretted saying it a minute later.

'He's probably too busy to call,' he could imagine Sam saying.

"But what if he's in real danger?" he asked his invisible companion. There was no answer.

The car was silent for a minute save for the still blaring music. The conversation was now playing in Dean's head rather than in actual speech. He couldn't have people thinking he was talking to himself even if he technically was.

"I'm telling you, something's wrong here. We've got to find him."

'Sure, we go on hunting whatever comes across our path and then next week he'll show up and start barking orders without an apology or explanation. I'd rather save myself the trouble and go back to reality now.' Dean groaned, he could hear his brother's voice ringing through his head. Those same words being said over and over again.

'What do you want him back for?' asked a little voice in his head. 'Why should we have to listen to him bragging about how he got to go to college and have friends and a life – a real life, when you deserved to have those things? You deserved to be the popular guy on campus with all the cool friends and the promising future, not some crook who drives around hunting evil all day with his dad!'

He couldn't bare it any longer and he pulled over the car, turning down the music as he did so.

"Get it together!" he yelled. Slowly, he got out of the car and kicked at some dirt, accomplishing nothing but dirtying his already filthy boots. Sighing, he looked up at the starry sky and tried to clear his head, but it didn't seem to work. Reaching into the Impala through the driver's side window, he pulled his cell phone from the dash board and began dialling Sam's number. He hung up just as it started ringing. What would he say? They hadn't even been apart five minutes, for Heaven's sake! And he was not about to admit that he was kinda sorta lonely without someone to talk to and change the cassettes for him.

"What do I do now?" he asked himself, now leaning against the hood of the car. A minute later he returned to the driver's seat and turned the car around, heading back in the direction he'd just come from. "If I'm going to talk to him I've got to do it in person." With that, he turned up the volume again and didn't give his destination another thought until he arrived nearly three minutes later.

Not thinking nor caring about the poor neighbours he might be disturbing, Dean parked in front of the house he'd dropped Sam off at and left the car door open as he ran up the front porch faster than he'd ever run before. It was very clear from the bright red and orange flames he saw through the upstairs window that everything was not okay inside.

Breaking down the front door with one hard kick, he wasted no time running up the stairs and following his brother's screams into the bedroom. Lying on the bed in front of him was Sam, yelling all sorts of things while looking up at the ceiling – the ceiling. Dean looked up just enough to see the outline of Jess' body still burning; it was a stupid mistake as he already knew what was happening. Quickly, he ran to the bed and pulled Sam from it, then pushed him out the door. There was no way he was letting this creature succeed in taking his brother. It had it's chance twenty-two years ago.

Down the stairs and out the front door, Dean kept pushing, making sure Sam didn't go back. There was no telling what the younger man was thinking right now and Dean was beginning to feel the way he had the night his mother died. Watching Sam look back at the house as his father had, knowing what horror had just occurred there, he could see the same look of sorrow in his eyes that only comes from losing someone you truly love.

Within seconds after leaving the house, fire engines began arriving. Apparently a neighbour had gone out to ask the owner of the '67 Impala to shut off the loud music when he saw the flames and called 911. Throughout the whole ordeal Sam stood near the car still staring back at the house while Dean remained calm and answered truthfully any questions the police had for him – within reason.

Lying was easy; it'd been a natural part of his upbringing. Always having to lie at school about his name or how his mother died or why they moved around so much. And now with using fake ids, it was the only way to live for him. But it was staying calm that was the hardest part. Staying strong for Sam. Yes, Sammy needed him now. He had to remind himself of that. He couldn't just sit around and think about the past, think about the memories Jess' death had brought back. All those suppressed memories... No, now is not the time to think about those.

"We've got work to do." Those were Sam's words. Words that could get them into all sorts of trouble, with things he probably didn't even know about. But Dean didn't complain. He had his brother back – that was the most important thing. Not college or friends or a real career. Anyone could have those things. Being able to spend time with his little brother again, that was what Dean wanted.

The End