Sam knew.

As soon as they pulled up to where I was working out in the yard, fresh from their 'dragon quest', as soon as Sam got out of the car and couldn't even look at me, I knew that he knew what had happened and what he'd done while he didn't have a soul.

Dean didn't know that Sam knew. If he did, he would've given me a warning look, a knowing grimace, an exhausted sigh. But I didn't get any of that. Dean gave me a smile in greeting as he got out of the car, then he turned to Sam.

"I'm gonna catch Bobby up. Whyn't you go make sure the beer's cold?"

He was maybe giving Sam a fast out to not have to be near me, or he was maybe just being a bossy big brother, pushing Sam to the house to get some more rest. Either way, Sam answered,

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

And then got away from me just as fast as I'd been getting away from him lately.

"How's he doing?" I asked, when Sam was out of earshot.

"Good. Real good. Saved my ass. But it wore him out. He's been quiet since we left Portland."

Nope, Dean did not know that Sam somehow realized or found out what we'd been keeping from him. He only thought Sam was tired, not downhearted.

But Dean found out. Late that afternoon, after we'd hashed out 'The Mother of All' and gotten nowhere but in deeper, when Sam was in the kitchen getting a start on our supper, Dean gave me a shake of his head and a jerk of his chin out to Sam. And I knew that he knew.

So later, much later that night, after pretty much drinking half of our suppers and feeling no better, after the boys – I thought – had already gone to bed, I was closing up for the night, checking doors and windows, and I caught a shadow on the porch, on the top step, next to the railing.

Sam.

Guess he hadn't gone to bed.

I wondered if I should go out to him, and I was kind of hoping the answer was 'no'. After he tried to exsanguinate me in my own house, I was still not feeling 100% being around him. And since he'd put himself out on my porch without cluing anybody in, I told myself he probably wanted to be by himself, so I figured I'd leave him to himself.

But – I knew that if the situation was reversed, if some part of me had tried to kill every part of Sam, I knew Sam wouldn't be holding it against me. It wouldn't even occur to him to hold it against me. Even if I did something that made him maybe a little or a lot wary to be around me, it wouldn't occur to him either to avoid me. He'd just suck it up and do anything that needed to be done, no matter how he felt about it. No matter what he really wanted. He'd been doing that since he was twelve.

And I wasn't going to let a twelve year old be braver than me.

I opened the door and went out onto the porch. Sam looked back at me.

"Bobby? Is everything okay?"

Because the only reason I'd come out to him could only be because there was a problem.

"Fresh air seemed like a good idea." I said and sat myself on the other side of that top step.

"Oh. Um – yeah. It's a – it's a nice night."

Then we were quiet for a bit. Sam wouldn't talk until he was ready to talk, and I couldn't talk until I knew what to say.

I'd given up a long time ago being usually happy that I didn't have kids. Because I had kids. Two kids. I'd never be John, and I wasn't trying to be John. Nobody could be John. I was only trying to be me, and hoping that would be enough for these two boys who'd always had to be men, these two men who I needed to remember were sometimes still boys.

"You know, Sam -"

He flinched. In the pale shine of the yard light, I saw him flinch and move just a little closer to the railing post, just a little farther away from me. He was getting ready to hear all my grievances against him. But that's not what I had in mind at all.

" – it means something to me, knowing I'm like a father to you."

I wanted that to cheer him, but I didn't get even the smallest hint of a smile.

"Even if it means I tried to kill you?"

Well, that was a justified question and a damn hard one to answer.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Sam. Having you come at me that way scared the hell out of me. And I don't think I'll be getting over that feeling anytime soon."

Sam nodded, resigned. He was still waiting for me to cut him off at the knees.

"Now, maybe I ain't fond of the way the message got delivered, but for an old guy who'd given up on the thought of family decades ago -" Damn, how did so much dust get in my eyes so suddenly? " – anyway, it means a lot to me. And – uh – I just -" And then the dust got in my throat, too and my talking took on a stammer. "I just hope you know – I feel that same way too."

Sam met my eyes and held my gaze. He wasn't sure I meant it, he wasn't sure I wanted to mean it.

"Kid, I've done a lot of things that I'll regret for the rest of my life, things I did for a lot less reason than my own survival. The only thing we can do is own it and move on. But nothing you do, nothing I do, will ever change the way I feel about you."

"Thanks." he said, after a minute, when I guess I passed muster. "I don't deserve it, but thanks."

"You deserve it, Sam. I don't know how much it's worth, but you deserve it and more."

He looked away quick at that and I pretended that I didn't see him run the heel of his hand under his eyes. Good to know that my caring about him meant as much to him as him caring about me meant to me.

Okay, that was enough of a 'chick flick moment' as Dean might say. It was late, we were both tired. Maybe if we weren't so tired, we wouldn't be so chick-flicky.

"Come on, now." I said. I stood up. "It's late and Dean'll have my hat if I let you stay out here all night. We start fresh tomorrow."

It took a few beats of time, but Sam nodded and stood up. Now, he was tall and grown up, he'd been to hell and back, he was a man, but looking at him right then I saw a boy dragged into a life he didn't want, making do with what small comforts and happiness he could find. And those were pretty damn few and far between.

"I'll see you in the morning." He said, moving to move past me and into the house.

"Do one thing for me, first, will you?"

"Anything."

"Just stand there a minute."

He stood there puzzled, but he stood there because I asked him to, and I took him into a hug. Sam's arms went around me fast and desperate, and he held on like letting go would be death. I'd never be John, I'd never be these boys' Dad, but I'd always be me, and damn if that just didn't seem to be enough.

The End.