Summary: Dean and Sam get invited to a college house party. With all the demon fighting, Dean figures it would be a fun way to relax for the two brothers. Sam reluctantly agrees. But good times awaken painful pasts and Sam pulls on his darker abilities. Powerful!Sam, Limp!Dean. Please Read and Review! This is a pretty fast read because I like writing short chapters. I would love to know what you think.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

"So, I'll see you there?" the tall brunette with the deep-set eyes said, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. It was all Dean could to do keep from drooling.

With a grin that attempted cool and confidence, Dean replied, "Babe, if you're there, not even the hounds of hell could keep me away," followed by a quiet growl and stare into her eyes.

"You are so…," the brunette hesitated as if unsure what choice of words could fit this new man on her radar, "…funny!" She felt satisfied.

Dean grinned even wider as his brother rolled his eyes in the seat opposite him. The diner's normal dinner patrons had begun clearing out, and this later addition, draped in skimpy shirt and short skirt, was all his brother needed to make his meal complete. Great, Sam thought, another night that should be spent finding Lilith, but can't because of Dean's "needs."

Sam clenched his teeth to hold back any bitter comments. The thought of Lilith, the pain she caused, the things he would do if he could get a hold of her, he pinched them back into the farthest recesses of his mind. No, he could not think of that now. It was too much.

If anything, Dean did deserve some fun and if this brunette offered it, who was he to block him?

After memorizing the way that the short skirted brunette walked away from him, Dean turned to face his brother with a smug look of accomplishment. "You see that, Sammy?"

"See what?" Sam asked, unimpressed.

"That, my younger bro," putting much emphasis on the word 'younger,' "is called style, " at which Sam began to choke with laughter.

"You call that style, Dean?" Sam said between coughs. "No. Getting a girl's number or even her name after buying her a drink or striking up an interesting conversation is style." Sam pointed directly between his brother's eyes, "You, on the other hand, got an invitation to a house party after telling her that you knew Jon Bon Jovi. How was that again?"

"I said I knew of Bon Jovi," Dean interrupted. "I was very clear about that."

"Bullsh**! You pretty much gave her a list of the songs you 'personally helped write,'" Sam continued, emphasizing Dean's last lie with air quotes.

"Whatever, Sam. I got us an invite, didn't I?" Dean said crossing his arms. "And last I checked, hunting demons and salting dead bodies didn't exactly top the list of fun things to do this year!"

For once, Dean actually looked like he was going to pout.

"Come on, Sam. If you're worried about being too old, it's being hosted by a grad student. But if there's grad students like that chick over there? Count me in!"

Sam appeared to think this over as Dean continued, "Dude! A house party's a cheap way to relax, meet chicks, drink some brews, uh meet chicks,…" as Dean continued to play out whatever visions he had in his head, Sam became lost in his own.

The last time Sam had gone to a house party was with Jessica. They had been celebrating something, but, as was typical of all cherished memories, the reason was forgotten while the subsequent celebrations from victory stayed with him forever. Back in those brighter times with Jessica, it didn't matter whether one of them aced a paper or found five dollars. It was all just an excuse to be together and toast to another job well done. Another day had gone by, together, and they were happy.

But, one day, that all changed, and, again, Sam chose not to think of that now.

"Fine, we can go. But only for a little while, okay?" Sam finished off his coke.

"Sweet!" Dean replied. "You won't be disappointed! Just promise me that you'll try to have a good time."

"I promise," Sam said with a sigh. Although he figured that this might not have been the best decision, as the old saying goes, he thought, what's the worst that could happen?

The brothers were about to find out.