A/N: lilballerette said I couldn't leave the story there so I added a second Chapter. I promise this story is now completely done. Oh, I know nothing about the American education system other than what I've seen on TV so I've skipped over it (All I know is that it's very different from the English sysytem, lol).

Chapter Two

Sam had spent the last two days trying to get Dean to open up and talk to him but he was stubbornly refusing; as always. He had been thinking about this almost constantly; about how Dean could just give up on his dreams like that.

Dean on the other hand was pretending that it had never happened. Whenever Sam had tried to bring it back up Dean had made up some excuse and quickly made an exit. It was beginning to get annoying.

On the third day Sam made sure he wouldn't be able to leave. They were driving to their next job and there would be no way that Dean would be able to worm his way out of it when they were in a moving vehicle.

"So," he started but Dean interrupted.

"We're not talking about it Sammy," he growled; his eyes not leaving the road.

"Yes we are."

"I don't see what it has to do with anything; it was a long time ago."

"But I just don't understand," Sam said; exasperatedly. Dean shook his head. He had been hoping that he could avoid this talk for a long time but now Sam was forcing him. Rolling his eyes; he found somewhere safe to pull over and he stopped the car. He turned the ignition off and leaned back in the seat.

Dean closed his eyes, still wanting to put this off for as long as possible but Sam wasn't having any of it.

"Talk to me Dean," he said quietly. "Tell me."

"I already told you," Dean replied; slightly irritated. "I applied; I got in, I rejected them. What is there more to say?"

"Why did you apply in the first place?"

"It doesn't matter," Dean said for the millionth time that week.

"You must have had a reason for doing it."

Dean sighed and shook his head. "I just wanted to see if I could," he told Sam. "The guidance counsellor at the school I was at told me that with SAT scores like mine I could go pretty much anywhere I wanted to."

"You told dad you flunked the SATs," Sam said, surprised at what Dean was telling him.

"I lied," Dean replied; looking down at his hands. "It was easier that way."

"How would it be easier?"

"If dad never knew about then it didn't have to be real. It could just be a dream that I had and he wouldn't be able to crush it by saying I couldn't go."

"But you could have gone. Dean, dad didn't control your life, you didn't have to listen to everything he said."

"And what good would that have done? If I'd left then it would've been just like you. I wouldn't have spoken to him for years. I just couldn't do it."

"Dean…"

"Don't Sam. Don't say what you're thinking," he turned to his brother. He looked sad Sam noticed. "It's not just what dad would've said about it. I couldn't leave you," he paused for a moment. "What do you think would have happened if I had gone and left you behind?" It was a genuine question; Dean was actually asking him what he thought, not being sarcastic.

"I don't know," Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"Do you think things would be different? That if I'd gone off to college and you'd stayed behind with dad then you'd be more like me?"

"Well who's to say that I would have stayed too? I could still have gone to college."

"I don't think that would have happened. Dad would have made sure that it didn't."

"How? He couldn't keep me from going to college."

"Yeah, maybe," Dean replied sadly. "You never called, you know?" He changed the subject slightly.

"What?" Sam wasn't completely sure what Dean was talking about.

"You never called," Dean repeated. "You told me when you left that you would call when you got to Stanford to let me know you got there safe but you never did."

Sam now realised what Dean was talking about and he felt really bad. He had promised to call and he hadn't.

"I waited for two days, didn't dare turn off my phone in case you tried to get in touch."

"I'm sorry Dean," he apologised.

"I started to get really worried, started to think that something awful had happened to you and I wasn't there to protect you."

"How did you know I was okay?"

"I called someone who called someone and they found out you'd got there safe but I was really scared for a while." Sam stared at his brother seeing a side of Dean that he never usually let show. He was obviously agitated; he was rubbing his hands together and fiddling with the ring on his finger. But he was also very sad. He wasn't crying or anything over-emotional like that but he had this look on his face that just broke Sam's heart. "All I could think about was how you left and I never got a chance to tell you how proud I was."

"I never knew," Sam whispered. They both sat in silence for a few minutes before Sam managed to speak again, "Dean, what was it like after I left?"

"What?"

"What was it like? How was dad?"

"It was like before you left only you weren't there. Dad always wanted to check up on you. Even though he was too proud to talk to you and make up; he always wanted to know that you were okay. But after you left we began spending more and more time apart. He would send me off on hunts by myself more and more; sometimes I wouldn't see him for a couple of weeks."

"Must have been hard," Sam commented.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, "Wasn't what I would've wanted but I didn't really have a say in the matter. It's just instead of having one person to constantly worry about I had two."

"I wish I hadn't broken off contact with you after I left," Sam admitted to Dean.

"Really?" Dean sounded surprised.

"The whole first year I was there I felt so alone. There were times I wanted to quit so bad and find you."

"What made you change your mind?"

"I just kept imagining dad saying 'I told you so' and it made me so angry I became more determined to prove him wrong."

"I guess that's a good a reason as any," Dean smirked. "Are we done with this now because all this sharing, caring crap is beginning to wear me out?"

"Yeah I guess we're done," Sam couldn't help but smile back. That was typical Dean; taking an emotional moment and turning it into a joke.

"Good," Dean sighed in relief before he started the car up again. "I think we've had enough click flick moments in the last half hour to last a lifetime," he pushed a cassette into the tape player; turned the volume up high and sped off to the sounds of Led Zeppelin.