"Dean, I'm sorry if heaven made it look as if all my happy moments in my life didn't include you…."
His brother stopped him with a look. "Don't Sam. Really. I know that you hated this life. Know that the times you were happiest were when you could pretend that Dad didn't exist, that our life wasn't just crappy motels and even crappier food. I'm not stupid. I get that. Hell sometimes, I wished that too." Dean pulled a fresh t-shirt over his head and sat down on the bed, shoulders slumping wearily, all fight gone, even his spirit feeling like it too had finally deserted him.
"Then what is it Dean? What's eating at you?" Sam pulled the amulet from his pocket, dangled it down from his fingers. "Why did you throw this in the trash?" There was a hurt tone in his voice.
For a moment he thought that his brother wasn't going to answer then Dean raised his head a little, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers and gently massaging his temple with his thumb. "Do you know what I was doing when you were having your happy moment Sam? With your dog and your damn postcards? What dad did to me to punish me for losing you?"
"Dad punished you?" Sam moved over and sat down opposite his brother but Dean didn't acknowledge him.
"He put two changes of clothes into my duffle, stuffed my gun and forty dollars into my hand and then he kicked me out. He opened the motel room door, dragged me outside like he did the trash and told me not to come back unless it was with you. Then he shut the door and just left me standing there."
Sam stared at the top of his brother's head. "He what?"
"I spent three days out looking for you Sam before he called to say you'd come back. That was on top of the week that I had already spent before he came home. I didn't eat in case you were hungry when I found you. I spent the nights sleeping behind dumpsters in alleys, listening to hookers turning tricks less than two feet from where I was lying. I was cold and wet and miserable and the only thing, the only thing that kept me going was that my brother was out there somewhere and he needed me. I worried that I'd done something to make you hate me enough to make you ditch me and all that time…, Dean let out a short, bitter laugh, "…you were happy. Happy to be free of Dad, free of me. Do you know how that makes me feel?"
Dean didn't wait for an answer, just stood and reached for his jacket, stepping by Sam on the way to the door. Sam reached out a hand to stop him. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't know."
His brother's voice was tired, drained of all emotion as he answered. "No Sam, you didn't care, there's a difference."
Dean freed himself from Sam's grip, moving to and then stopping in the door, turning to face but not look at him. "If the amulet means that much to you Sam, you keep it. It's nothing more now than another dead weight hanging round my neck to me. Don't wait up."
The door slammed behind him and once again Sam was left in a motel room, his brother gone for now, and nothing more to remember him by but his once prized possession. He slipped it round his neck, tucked it safe inside his shirt and hoped that one day he'd earn the right to give it back.