Title: It Starts With Goodbye
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam, Jess, Bobby, OFC
Pairing: Sam/Jess, Dean/OFC
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Set in the back end of season two (pre-finale) so anything before that is fair game.
Summary: Dean would do anything to make Sam happy but what would Sam let him give up? How far can you push brotherly love before you have to be selfish for your own sake?

Author's Note: Please forgive the rather indulgent lack of plot in the first chapter. It's more of a set up for how people are feeling that anything.

Part One

Dust. If you had asked Sam to name one thing that he associated with Bobby's place, it would have been dust.

And cars too. Dust and cars was what the place was.

Dozens of old cars littering the yard, motor oil staining the ground and the smell of fuel hanging heavy in the air. It was almost choking to him although Dean seemed to thrive off of it.

And then there was the dust which seemed to get everywhere and coat everything including themselves in a fine brown layer. It made Sam uncomfortable. It wasn't like he was prissy or anything; they didn't exactly stay in the Ritz every night and he'd lost count of the number of times when necessity had meant that they'd roughed it in the car for days, but he couldn't say he enjoyed the feeling of being constantly unclean. The only rest bite he got was in the shower and even that only lasted until Dean rattled on the bathroom door, threatening to kick his ass if he used up all the hot water.

Dean clearly wasn't so bothered by the conditions; in fact he seemed positively at home in them. He just laughed when Sam complained, saying that it was because little Sammy was a 'nice boy' college student who wasn't used to real graft.

Sam was pretty sure that had they had some semblance of a 'normal' life his brother would have ended up reconditioning classic cars or something, further proof if any were needed that Dean really was his father's son.

Despite it being a complete pain in the ass on occasion and even though it had cost them way too much in time and money over the years, Dean had always loved that damn Impala ever since they were kids. As time had passed that had developed into a more general love for any car that was as big as an aircraft carrier, had steering that weighed near half a ton and which guzzled fuel like it was going out of fashion. Dad had pretty much felt the same way. That was apparently why he'd brought the Impala in the first place even if their mom had not been convinced that it was really the ideal family car. She'd seemingly put up with it for John's sake but she'd never actually been a fan. Sam couldn't see the fascination either personally. Sure he was fond of it but that was because of some of the memories it evoked – after all it had pretty much his most constant home as a kid – not because of the engineering. He simply couldn't get as enthusiastic about it as a machine as Dean could. His brother really did treat it like some kind of precious piece of art or something. In fact Sam actually wasn't entirely convinced that when Dean had said they needed to stop off at Bobby's for a few days because the Impala had to have a service, that he wasn't really doing it for the pleasure of it rather than the practical need. Just an oil change and brake pads he'd said but even Sam knew enough to realise that that shouldn't take someone as competent as Dean three days and it made him wonder if his brother had bent the truth a bit. Or had lied out of his ass as Dean would likely put it.

Maybe he just needed a break and Sam could sympathise with that. Being constantly on the road made you weary after a while. Travelling from one place to the next, meeting too many new people whilst always pretending to be someone that you weren't got you down at times. Maybe even Dean with all his fierce loyalty to the mission was starting to feel like they'd spent too long at this; doing the job in question, sometimes saving people, sometimes not, before moving on and leaving behind those they might have grown to like. Perhaps this life was finally taking its toll on him in the same way it had Sam, ultimately causing him to make a break for freedom six years ago. Not that Dean would ever contemplate such a thing of course. And whilst Sam was more at ease with his way of life now than he had been back then, he would be lying if he said he wasn't in need of a time out too. So in truth he was pretty happy for Dean to take a couple of days off. He was glad to stop moving for once, glad to give himself a chance to clear his mind of demons, spirits, hunting and death for a short while. It helped keep them grounded too. After all they needed to remember that there was a life outside their own weird and dangerous one if they were ever going to have a chance of someday living it like most of the rest of the world. That had long been a wish of Sam's and he was beginning to see that maybe Dean wanted it too.

Sam just hoped that this stop off wasn't another poorly disguised attempt to convince him to bail out. They came much fewer and farther between now than they had done when Dean had first told him about what their dad had said and then strongly suggested that they just get the hell out of Dodge. He still tried occasionally though. Sam could appreciate the gesture but he'd already run away from this life once and it hadn't worked. Jess had died because of it. This time he wasn't giving up until it was over, whatever 'over' entailed.

As had become habit in the last couple of days, Sam had spent the morning looking through some of Bobby's more archaic books and journals, just reading up on whatever looked interesting. The guy really did have a veritable library of the weird and paranormal and you never knew when some little piece of knowledge would come in handy. Or save your life. Dean had been out bright and early as usual, covered with grease and oil within minutes of walking up to the car as though he somehow magnetically attracted the stuff. Sam was sure he wasn't doing anything more than tinkering now but he let him continue all the same. Every few hours he'd go out and ask him how it was going and whether he was finished yet. Dean's answer was always the same. Nearly. It would be finished tomorrow. But it seemed as though it was the type of tomorrow that was never going to come and Sam had already decided to indulge Dean for another forty eight hours at most before he called him on it and insisted that they moved on. They couldn't hide here forever. They had work to do.

Deciding that it was time for his morning visit, Sam headed out onto the porch but drew to a slow stop when he looked across the yard.

It was a bit odd to see Dean on the brink of being really happy with a girl. He'd always put up such a front of brutal indifference about women that Sam had almost wondered if it was possible. He knew enough psychology to understand that it was partly a defence mechanism, that Dean was so afraid of letting himself or worse someone else get hurt that he simplified his encounters down to one night flings and fun times, always choosing the girls he knew were instantly disposable. Certainly never going within one hundred yards of someone he might form an attachment to. Perhaps that was why he'd been so angry with Isabel when he first met her. Angry with himself too. She was a girl he could fall for and as such he had tried to keep her away and so had hated it when his own sense of what was right had forced her into their lives.

Like Sam, Isabel's mother had died when she was six months old and she had since developed some psychic abilities. Unlike the Winchester's though her family were not new to the idea of demons and spirits although whether that had anything to do with why she was targeted, Izzy wasn't sure. Her grandmother had apparently been the only survivor of a vampire attack on her family when she'd been a girl and she'd been in the game so to speak ever since. Her sons had become hunters, trained how to kill all manner of evils as soon as they were old enough to know one end of a gun from another. Grace Hedley had been dead over a year when Sam and Dean had first met her granddaughter but Sam had always wondered about the woman; if it was revenge or a sense of duty that had made her enforce such a future on her own family. He certainly didn't think it was for their own protection; theirs was hardly the safest of lives. Either way she was very well respected. The occult shop she had set up was a haven for hunters from five adjoining states and apparently you could always go to Ma Hedley's if you were in trouble or needed supplies.

Izzy had been working in that shop when they'd first met her. In fact she'd been made the owner in her grandmother's will, much to her own apparent surprise. She had confessed to Sam that she didn't see it as an act of generosity however. She in fact firmly believed that her grandmother had left it to her meant as a millstone that she couldn't shake. She suspected that Grace had known that Izzy respected her too much to allow anything to happen to her beloved shop and so by giving it to her had tied her to it. Sam had suggested that perhaps her grandmother had just tried to keep her safe, not wanting her to become a hunter like her father and uncle. Izzy had dismissed that though; the idea of hunting had never crossed her mind and it wasn't a life she wanted to lead. No, she had a horrible suspicion that her grandmother knew something that she had never told her, something that meant that either her granddaughter was in danger or that those around her would be. It certainly tied in with the fact that in the last year or so she'd found herself able to do things she couldn't before. She firmly believed that Grace Hedley had trapped her, not wanting to inflict whatever she brought with her on an unprepared world. It angered her to think she had been so kept in the dark.

Sam hadn't quite brought it. Yes he knew well enough that the children the demon had chosen could be dangerous but Izzy was only empathic. She could sense the presence of demons and spirits, could feel the emotions their deeds left behind and frankly he didn't see how that could hurt anyone at all. There was clearly a lack of trust in the Hedley family, a river of paranoia running right through it that was well embedded from years of tragedy and ill feeling. Grace Hedley had married a hunter and he had been killed when her boys weren't even in their teens. Tom Hedley, Izzy's uncle, had left home to hunt at eighteen and hadn't returned since although they'd heard rumours of his deeds across the width and breadth of the country. Jack Hedley, Izzy's father was rarely at home and it had been the way since his second wife had died. Katherine Hedley, Izzy's half sister had gone all the way across the country to college and had made it very clear that she wanted nothing more to do with her cursed family. Apparently she and Izzy hadn't been close in years and so Izzy respected her wishes.

The only 'normal', calm presence in the place was Rhema, orphaned as a girl and taken in by Grace to work in the shop she had been there ever since, becoming fiercely loyal to the family over the years. She seemed to have remained detached from all the drama around her somehow, holding a composure that at once made you feel both relaxed and uncomfortable, as though you were under scrutiny. She hadn't liked Sam or Dean very much, maybe somehow realising that they'd be the cause of Izzy's departure. Sam also had reason to suspect that Rhema was a practitioner of hoodoo but he'd said nothing in case it somehow offended.

It had been Sam who had been the first to suggest that maybe Izzy should come with them for a while even though he knew deep down that Dean wouldn't like it. But Sam had had a vision about her and she'd consequently helped them track down a rather nasty spirit and save the young girl whose fear it was feeding off of. She could be really useful he reasoned. Dean had completely shot down the idea though, saying that they needed no one else and that they were doing fine with just the two of them. Even when Sam had been totally honest and had admitted that he liked having someone else around that really knew what he was going through and that, quite frankly, he thought it was good they had an outsider to stop them getting too lost in their own insular world, Dean would not relent. So when he had come back on the morning they were supposed to be leaving and had said that they had to pick her up because she was coming with them, it had been more than a bit of a surprise.

It took him months to extract the truth from Dean. Whenever he asked him Dean just snapped back some evasive, irritated answer that told him nothing except for the fact that Dean didn't want to talk about it. Eventually though Sam's questions had finally worn him down. Dean apparently had met Izzy's father that last night before they left and he was a man best described as cold and harsh and dead inside. And a man who, according to Dean, was planning on killing his daughter. He'd admitted that he'd already killed his second wife believing, but crucially not knowing for certain, that she'd been infected with vampire blood and so Dean had had no doubt of the validity of his threat. If he ever thought she was going to be a danger to anyone Jack would put a bullet in Isabel's head, simple as that. Dean had said the guy was clearly so disturbed, so much another Gordon Walker, that the slightest provocation would have made him do it and he couldn't just leave her behind knowing what might happen.

Sam had understood that. He had understood too that in Dean's head he was probably scared that Jack Hedley was his future, some cold, emotionless killer who cared no more for his family than any other body on the street. Scared that he too would be forced to contemplate killing his own flesh and blood for the greater good. And in Dean's mind if he could help Izzy, if it was possible to stop her dying, then maybe he could help Sam too. So despite Dean not really wanting her there he had brought her along all the same, hoping to save both her and himself.

What Sam didn't really understand was why Izzy had agreed to join them. She and Dean hadn't exactly gotten off on the best foot and she had her shop to think about, even if she didn't exactly enjoy working there. In the end she'd admitted to him that whilst she didn't have all the facts, she knew enough to realise that something was going on around them and that she wanted a hand in her own destiny whatever the outcome. Sam respected that, feeling much the same way. It just wasn't like her to sit idly by and let things happen.

Except it seemed for now. Across the sun baked yard he watched as Dean moved about the car, working whilst Izzy just hung around, having nothing really better to do. She'd already used the time to phone Rhema and check up on both her and the shop. She didn't want to keep calling however or Rhema was bound to think something was wrong. She'd also been helping Sam with going through the books but apparently there was only so long she could sit in the cluttered room reading before she went a bit stir crazy.

Sam smiled slightly as he watched Dean carefully manoeuvre her out the way with his hands on her hips, allowing him to walk around the near side of the car. Izzy spoke up in protest showing him the grimy marks his fingers had left on the skin between her low jeans and top. Dean grinned cockily, kissing her quickly in appeasement as her walked back passed her again, making sure to leave more marks on her flesh as he held her waist.

Izzy was quick though and wouldn't let him get away with such cheek. She stopped him moving off by grabbing a handful of t-shirt, proceeding to use it to wipe her skin clean whist he watched carefully. He waited until she was completely finished before he ran a finger just above the top of her jeans, leaving a dark mark low on her belly. She went to whack him in the shoulder but he grabbed her, lifting her easily to sit on the hood of the car, pulling her tight to him so he could kiss her properly. Sam was about to make a hasty retreat out of there in case this led to something he really didn't want to witness when the kiss cooled and with a few light touches to his lips she pushed Dean away, enjoying the sun as he got back to work.

Sam so rarely saw them like this. This was easy and happy, simple affection showing that they cared. Half the time you'd never even know they were together at all, hunting not really leaving much room for normal dating stuff beyond the odd stolen moment. Most of the time they didn't even bother with their own motel room, Dean reasoning that it was stupid to spend more than necessary on their fraudulent credit cards and that he could only earn so much in poker games without risking starting a fight. Sam was both happy and sad for Dean. He remembered what it was like to be in love with a girl, how the stupidest little things about her could make you smile and how great it felt to just be with her no matter what you were doing. He remembered how at ease it could make you feel with your life, how knowing that you had someone could make you feel better even when everything else around you was going to hell, literally or figuratively in their case.

Dean had really fallen for her, that much was obvious even if he couldn't get passed a long built in inability to say things like that out loud. He was such a closed book most of the time – he joked and jested and pretended to be friends with people but so few really knew him. Dad certainly hadn't, not as well as he probably thought. Sam himself sometimes couldn't even understand what was going on his head and he figured that he knew his brother better than anyone did. Sam would bet that even Izzy didn't know much more than Dean was willing to offer but somehow she at least seemed to make him want to offer it. Dean felt at home with her and that was big thing for a guy who had never really had one that he could remember.

And why shouldn't he like her - Izzy was a great girl. She was pretty and smart and strong and put up with all Dean's crap with more good humour than he deserved. But whilst the demon was still out there, whilst the threat of an unknown future still hung over them, he knew that Dean could never really be with her in the way that he wished. Moments like the one Sam had just witnessed were all they really had and he knew from experience that it wasn't enough.

He wanted to see them do everything that normal couples did. He wanted to see them get married and have kids and be happy. He wanted to see Dean scratch his head in pained confusion as he tried to pick out just the right ring, biting Sam's head off every time he tried to give advice just to take his frustrations out on someone. He wanted to be there to calm Dean down as they stood at the church, waiting for her to show, Dean convinced she was going to bail on him even though Sam knew that wouldn't happen. He wanted to see Dean freak when he found out that he was going to be a father, spending nine months on tenterhooks, finding that dealing with a pregnant woman full of volatile emotions was possibly the most dangerous thing he'd ever face. He wanted to be there to see his hard headed big brother turn to gooey mush when he met his first born, knowing Dean was good with kids and that he would be a natural dad. He wanted to see Dean laugh when he realised his brother now really was Uncle Sam, continuing the joke for months and years even though it was lame. He wanted to be around to see Dean holler enthusiastic support at his son's baseball matches and try but fail to put his foot down when his daughter went out in something he thought a little too short for his baby girl. More than anything Sam just wanted to help to make all that happen. It may be a cliché, it may be a dream but it didn't mean they couldn't have it. Even if it meant killing every damn demon in existence to get there. It was a goal he liked to focus on when things were particularly rough.

Deep down though he missed it himself too; having someone, being in a relationship. He'd loved Jessica, had intended to marry her, and it had taken a long time to get over her loss or to ever even contemplate allowing himself to feel that way about anyone again. Now he was about ready to start anew. He realised that every time he met a nice girl and momentarily thought about asking her for coffee before he remembered who he was and the life he lived. Part of him wished that he could take things with Sarah further, loving that small rush of warmth he got every time he thought about her, but he couldn't in good conscious drag her into this no matter how much he needed someone. Even if that need was becoming a little desperate of late, gnawing at him ever more noticeably.

This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Dean should be flitting from girl to girl, never settling down, never getting serious with any of them whilst Sam had the steady girlfriend and the stable relationship. It somehow didn't seem right that he was on his own whilst Dean was falling in love. As guilty as it made him feel it sometimes cut deep to see Dean and Izzy together. Just occasionally he wished that they weren't simply so he wouldn't have to see it anymore and feel that potent mixture of jealously and loneliness. He knew that was a cruel and unreasonable thing to wish but he couldn't help it.

It wasn't fair.

But there again he was already well aware that life in general wasn't.

So all he could do was force himself to concentrate on the part that was happy for his brother and ignore the voice that kept telling him how tired he was of being alone.