Disclaimer; Although I do dream of owning Sam and Dean, reality says I don't.

This was initially supposed to come sooner, but alas over the last few days I've had myriad setbacks and social obligations. Also it's just as slowly getting to the point as the last chapter.

The motel room was colder when Dean came back. Sam was pouring over a newspaper he'd stolen from the reception, it was habit. He noticed the mass of aging newspapers teetering by the table and his understanding grew. Dean wasn't sure what Sam was looking for but it was definitely a symptom of his ever increasing psychosis.

"Whatcha doing Sammy?" He clunked down the fast food bags next to the newspapers, grabbing one of the burgers and impatiently tore apart the packaging.

"I think I've found a pattern Dean." Sam's eyes alight with redemption as he broke the news to his brother.

Dean was less enthusiastic about this revelation; he took a monstrous bite of the burger; buying him time to form a delicate reply. Sam shoved a newspaper article under his nose; at first he noticed the smiling family: A mother, father and two daughters. His eyes wandered over the headline, 'Entire family slaughtered in own home'.

"May not be our kinda gig Sam." Dean tried his hardest to hide his complete and utter lack of interest in this 'case' and his concern for his brothers well being.

"Fourth family in the last 40 years."

"One every decade?' Sam nodded the reply, "Sounds like a ritual." The facts started to intrigue Dean.

"Always in February."

"It's April."

"Yeah, I know-"

"It's long gone Sammy."

"You don't know that."

"You're right, I don't but whatever this is, I don't think it's going to stick around here. There's nothing to do here," Sam scoffed at Dean's naivety, "Hey Sam-"

"We should probably check out the house. Might still be something there, sulphur, residuals that could be picked up by EMF? But then again-"

"Hey!" Dean took control, Sam was running ideas too quickly and he knew if he let it flow they'd end up casing the entire town looking for something to spur Sam on in his maddening expedition to find salvation. "Sam, people could live in the house, what are we going to do? Kick 'em out for the night because you have an insane hunch?"

"It isn't a hunch Dean; the facts are here, clear as day." Sam was defensive, waving the articles at him again.

"You think I don't know what this is about?"

"It's not, this is an actual case, and people could die if we don't do anything."

"You honestly believe Dad would have left us in a town where a monster was actively slaughtering people?"

"He doesn't have time to track everything, Dean. He's not superman, no matter how hard you wish he was."

"Wait? What?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sick of your damn snideness, eat or I'm shoving the burger down your throat."

Dean made little tears into the docket with the counter girls' number on it, turning over the options. He could call her, go out, have a little fun or he could sit here watching his brother pace the room making up excuses for his madness. The latter was less appealing, but as always Sammy first.

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Sam suddenly shot at Dean.

"I just don't fancy you that way Sammy, but nice try."

"No, the number you've been staring at for the past hour, are you going out with her?"

"You know I'm not the relationship kinda guy." Dean winked at Sam.

"Don't avoid the subject. Are you going?" Sam's fingers tapped against the linoleum table he was growing irritated with Dean's indirectness and evasion to the issue.

"Can't leave you alone, can I Sam?"

Sam felt his breath hitch in his throat, his entire being wanted to reach out and hit Dean – hard. He was sick of being "protected", for once he just wanted people to trust him. He hadn't done anything really to prove that he needed the constant guard and surveillance. Sure he was clumsy sometimes, but he was adjusting to his new sudden growth. He had an almost constant feeling of vertigo that was hard to shake. His arms were more in the way of his actions rather than useful limbs, and he tripped over his feet more often than not. But then again the protective detail had been with him his entire life. Tonight he wanted for himself, he had a plan and with Dean gone he wouldn't have to put his sorely lacking stealth to use. Sam tried to coax Dean into his favourable decision, "You could, I wouldn't mind. I've been alone before and been just fine."

"Oakland," Was Deans only reply.

"I'm alive aren't I?"

"You could've died. What did I tell you Sammy 'stay in the room, don't do anything foolish, stay in the room,' and what did you do?"

"I left it but-"

"You're damn lucky I was close by."

"I would've been able to handle it Dean, they were just stupid kids."

"Stupid kids that were beating your ass black and blue."

Dean sighed; he hung his head in his hands. The places he had seen, the experiences he held – the times he could've lost Sam, the big what ifs. Looking around he realised how tired he was of the decor, not just in this room but in every single motel they've inhabited over their entire lifetime. One day he wanted to sit in a room on a chair he bought and picked out, it wasn't that big of a wish right? Home. The what ifs wouldn't seem so devouring in that setting

"C'mon, don't let me stop you from mercilessly hitting on the girl." Sam saw his brother, worn and beaten finally come to a conclusion before he could verbalise his choice

"Check the lines before you go to bed, sleep with both a knife AND handgun under your pillow. Don't shoot me when I get back." Dean didn't appreciate the utter joy in Sam's eyes as he realised he was being left alone for the night. They had been getting on each other's nerves for awhile, and Henderson had pushed them over the edge. A few hours apart will do them both well. Dean played with the idea of asking Sam to come along, but he tossed it aside quickly. There had to be a line somewhere in his life where he separated his desperate need to protect Sam and his own satisfaction – this was probably it. He knew he had initially rationalized the invitation as a way to help Sammy, but Dean was a selfish creature when it came to pleasure

"Won't miss you." Sam quipped.

"C'mon, I know as soon as I leave you'll be pining for me."

"Other way around Dean."

"Brother, I'll be in the company of one of the states finest." He jested.

"Doesn't seem like your type."

"You're right, maybe I should stay."

"Go."

Dean gave Sam a cheeky smirk, checked the knife in his leather jacket and slammed the door on him. He knew better than to trust his brother, Sam was completely translucent in his lame attempt.