A/n: Hey y'all! Sorry about the delay in updating, it's coming down to the last couple of weeks of the semester and I've been busy studying and finishing up projects. But the good news is, once the semester is over I'll be free to write! Just to clear up any confusion, AMAD ended during Sam's freshman year of College. This story does not take place right after AMAD. Instead it starts right after John, Bobby, and Sam rescue Dean from the training house. So when I said eleven years later in Chapter two, it is eleven years after the rescue, not eleven years from the end of AMAD. Sam is 22 in this fic and Dean is 26, the same ages as they are in the pilot.

Anyways enough about that! Without further adieu, here is Chapter three!

Sam reached the South Dakota border late the next night. He found the cheapest motel and left Jess a short message informing her that he was still a couple of hours away but he was safe and he loved her very much. As he slid the key into the lock he couldn't hold back the flood of memories of nights just like this one. He couldn't even begin to count how many hole – in – the – wall places like this he lived in when he was a kid. The list was endless. Living his life out of motels was one of the factors that motivated him to leave the hunting life behind. Who wanted to live in shit holes like this for the rest of their life anyways? Dean had always said that it didn't matter what condition the room was in, as long as they had a roof over their heads they were golden. Dean had always been a fucking optimist.

Dumping his bag on the dusty floor, Sam flopped down on the mattress, the springs groaning in protest. He closed his eyes and breathed in the musty air. This was all Dean's fault. If he had just picked up his damn phone, he could be back in California with Jess. He wouldn't be here; running back to life he swore he'd never be part of again. But no, Dean had to go mess everything up.

A pang of guilt thrummed through his chest. It wasn't really Dean's fault, not really. He was just pissed. Why did everything have to go to hell now? His life was finally right where he wanted it to be. He didn't think it was asking too much to keep it that way.

Sam always knew that he would leave the hunting life. He had a longing to be normal, to go to school, to find someone and settle down, all the things he couldn't have as a hunter. It wasn't a hard decision to make to pack up his bags and grab the first bus to California. What had been hard was leaving his brother behind. It was a cruel twist of fate to find his long lost brother only to lose him again to his dream of a normal life. But Dean had supported him where his father hadn't. He was the only one to encourage him to apply to school after school. His dad just huffed and rolled his eyes like Sam was speaking a foreign language every time he mentioned college. Dean had been there when Sam had received his acceptance letter from Stanford, pride shining in his eyes. Dean had even stood up to their dad the night Sam planned to leave, something Sam never thought he'd see. His dad was red in the face from yelling, his hands clenched into angry fists. All it took as a step towards where Sam stood by the door and Dean was there, pushing John back.

His dad would never intentionally hit him or Dean but that night Sam couldn't be sure. He had taken the distraction and ran from the shack they were squatting in and never looked back. That had been the last time he'd seen his dad. Dean on the other hand, found him a couple months later. He and Jess were walking back to their dorm when she spotted him, a pretty German Shepherd dog sitting on the sidewalk. Sam of course hadn't seen him but, later that night he found a note written in Dean's sloppy print. Sam found a couple more notes throughout the year but after a while the notes stopped coming and Sam stopped looking for them.

It wasn't like he meant to fall out of contact with Dean, he was just busy. Besides, communication was a two-way street; Dean was the one who stopped checking in. With a sigh, Sam slung his arm to rest over his eyes his guilt intensifying. He could have tried harder. He could have called Dean instead of waiting for a note. Maybe if he had all of this would have been avoided. A sickening thought crossed his mind that maybe Dean was ignoring him, pay back for all those years. No, he thought, Dean wouldn't do that to me. He couldn't.

Rolling over to his side, Sam attempted to clear his mind. If he wanted to make it to Bobby's by noon he needed to get some sleep and thinking about the 'what ifs' wasn't going to help.

~*0*~

Consciousness came to Sam slowly; the pleasant remnants of a dream keeping him drifting in limbo. Flashes of blue eyes and soft skin danced around in his mind as the sounds of a nearby truck stop pierced through his dreamy haze. Slowly he blinked his eyes open to the shafts of sunlight seeping through cheap motel curtains. Groaning Sam rolled over onto his back and rubbed his bleary eyes wishing for just a few more minutes of blissful sleep. He was on the verge of sleep when a truck horn blasted through the calm morning air causing Sam to jerk upright in bed, wide awake. Cursing he reached for his phone to check for messages. It would be in typical Dean fashion to call him once he was already over half way there, telling him he had nothing to worry about. But an empty mail box was all that Sam found. He dialed his brother's number one last time just to see if he'd pick up.

"You've reached Dean's phone, leave your nightmare after the beep."

Sam ended the call before the beep. His stupid idiot of a brother, how hard was it for him to pick up the phone and give Sam some peace. He knew Bobby's had a tv and internet. He knew Dean must have heard the news. A little voice in his head whispered his fear but Sam shut it up with a punch to the mattress.

Pushing himself up from the bed, Sam pulled on his dirty pair of jeans and reached around his duffel for a clean shirt. It wasn't that late into the morning so Sam figured if he was a little flexible with the speed limit he'd make it to Bobby's right before lunch. After a quick check out and a nauseating breakfast at the truck stop, he was on the road.

Cow pastures and crop fields flew past his window as he raced along the empty highway. His initial fears had begun to dwindle over the length of his trip but as he grew closer and closer to Bobby's junk yard Sam could feel them intensifying again. What if he was too late? He shouldn't have stopped last night and drove right to Bobby's. Gordon could have already gotten his revenge and killed them all. Or worse, he still had them and was killing them slowly. The optimistic voice in his head tried to calm his panic. Maybe Dean was on a hunt, that's why he wasn't answering his phone; he'd always been a bitch about answering his phone while on a hunt. But that didn't explain why Bobby wasn't answering. Bobby always answered his phone that was his job. He was the lifeline of the hunting world, he always answered. Sam could try and call his father but he knew that would be pointless. John made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing to do with Sam anymore. Dean and Bobby were all Sam had left. He couldn't lose them too. Drumming his sweaty fingers on the steering wheel he pushed down on the gas pedal urging the car to move faster.

He made it to Bobby's junk yard in record time. As he pulled up the long gravel driveway he saw the Impala parked off by the garage, the sleek black metal gleaming in the afternoon sun. Sam's heart fluttered with hope. If the Impala was here, so was Dean. He quickly shut off the engine of Jess's Taurus and reached for his gun in the middle consol. Climbing out of the car, Sam tucked the gun into the back of his pants and practically ran up the front stairs, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The worn door was open letting in the cool breeze. Sam pulled out his gun and held it steadily in front of himself, his palms sweating. He crossed over the threshold and looked around the dingy hallway of the only place he could call home.

"Bobby?" he called out softy, his voice echoing off the familiar walls. "Dean? Anyone here?" Sam walked slowly in to the empty living room, no one answering his calls. He made his way to the kitchen, fear racing though his veins. Like the rest of the house, it was empty. Sam wasn't sure if the absence of his brother of Bobby was a good thing or a horrible, horrible sign.

Sam let his gun fall down to his side as he took in the kitchen he spent so many hours of his life in. He remembered all the times his father made his sit at the old, worn table until his homework was finished or he had completed his research for a hunt. Flashes of memories, him and Dean playing cards on a rainy day when they couldn't play outside, dinners that left him breathless from laughing so hard at one of Dean's stupid jokes, that horrifying moment when Dean lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath his body, played in his head like an old movie reel. Sam could feel his panic rise, his breath short and rasping. They weren't here. Oh God they're not here! The voice in his head screamed. Gordon's got them and he goin' to kill them, oh God oh God no…

"Hey Bobby since when did you start fixin' up chick cars? You sweet on that lady down the street or somethin'?" Dean's familiar voice rang out as he walked into the kitchen looking down at his grease covered hands. "Why is there a chick car in the driveway?"

"Dean?" Sam breathed taking in the form of his brother, alive and breathing. He had hardly changed in the past couple of years. Maybe a little taller, his hair slightly longer, his muscles firmer, and fresh scruff along his jaw line but still the same Dean he knew. Dean froze, his piercing green eyes snapping up to Sam's face.

"Sammy?" he whispered looking at Sam like he was a ghost. A smile broke out across Sam's face as he closed the distance between him and his brother, wrapping his arms around dean like he was going to slip away at any second. He felt Dean cautiously return the embrace, his arms strong around Sam's back. Sam could feel his tension flee his body. Dean was safe. Gordon didn't have him, he wasn't hurt. Sam broke the embrace, pushing back and thumping Dean on the shoulder.

"What the hell man, did you lose the ability to answer a phone while I was gone?" Sam questioned unable to put the venom in his words, he was too happy to see Dean to be angry, that would come later once the high wore off.

"Sammy," Dean stuttered. "What are you doin' here?"

"I came to see you." Sam explained look at Dean as if he was stupid.

"Yeah I can see that but, why?

"Why? Didn't you see the news? Gordon escaped."

"Yeah I know, that still don't explain why you drove all the way here."

"Still doesn't – Dean I came to see if you were ok!" Sam fumed his anger making an appearance sooner than he thought it would. "Maybe if you answered your damn phone once and a while you'd know!"

"What are you talkin' about Sammy?"

"It's Sam." He snapped. "I tried calling you a dozen times Dean and you didn't answer! I thought Gordon had gotten you! I even tried Bobby and I still didn't get an answer! I was scared Dean! I thought you were dead!"

"So you drove all the way from California to see if I was ok?"

"Yeah dumb ass! Though I'm not sure why I bothered now because you clearly don't care!"

"Hey now Sammy I didn't mean -"

"It's Sam!" He yelled.

"Jesus Christ sorry!" Dean exclaimed throwing his grease rag down on the table. "Fuck Sam, I'm just surprised to see you Jesus!"

"So you know about Gordon?" Sam asked breathing heavily trying to contain his rage.

"Yeah I know about Gordon." Dean nodded watching Sam carefully like he was bomb about to blow.

"Then why didn't you answer my calls?"

"My phone died." Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"And you didn't think to, I don't know, charge it?"

"I lost my charger," Dean snapped. Sam rolled his eyes, typical. "Jesus, college sure made you bitchy."

"Yeah well you're still a jerk." Sam shot back crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't a bitch.

"So you know I'm not dead or dying now, you gonna head back to your girl?" Dean asked pulling out a kitchen chair and plopping down.

"W-what? I just got here, I'm not gonna just turn around and leave."

"Well I haven't heard from you in two years, how the hell am I suppose to know what you're gonna do?"

"I'm not going to leave Dean." Sam mumbled shifting his feet.

"Good." Dean said. "You wanna beer?"

"Sure." Sam nodded taking a seat at the table across from his brother. Dean rapped his knuckles on the table before standing and grabbing two beers from the fridge. "So where's Bobby?"

"Uh he might be out in the junk yard working on the transformer. We had a bad storm blow in a couple nights ago, knocked the power out. The power company is takin' its sweet time gettin' out here to fix it, so Bobby gonna do it."

"Does he even know how to fix a transformer?" Sam questioned twisting off the cap of his beer as Dean took a seat.

"You'd be surprised what that man can do."

"I guess that explains why Bobby wasn't answering his phone, if the power was out."

"Yeah…"

Sam nodded and began thumbing at the label of his bottle. Million of questions buzzed through his mind but he couldn't find the words to ask them. It was a weird feeling not knowing how to talk to Dean. They had been so close, surely two years of silence wasn't enough to break their bond.

"You think any harder there's gonna be steam comin' out of your ears." Dean chuckled, his green eyes sparkling.

"Huh?"

"What's got your panties in a twist college boy?"

"Nothing." Sam said innocently.

"Sure," Dean smirked. "You're not gonna ask where Dad is?"

"The thought crossed my mind…" he mumbled.

"It's ok, he's not here. He's hunting a Chupacabra down in New Mexico."

"Good. I mean it's good that he's hunting, not that I don't want to see him. I'm just glad he's out there helping people and all…"

"Whatever you say geek boy."

"So how have you been?" Sam asked quickly changing the subject away from his father. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

"As good as I can be. Just got back from a hunt a couple days ago."

"Dad lets you hunt solo now?"

"Dude, I'm 26. I think I can handle it." Dean deadpanned.

"That's not what I meant." Sam muttered.

"Relax dude, I'm just messin' with you." Dean smiled. "How's school? You get to third base with your girl yet?"

"That's none of your business Dean." Sam blushed. He remembered the first time he asked Dean how to kiss a girl and received a master class of the female body instead. Sam still thought it was too much information for a twelve year old to know.

"Sam you sly dog." Dean whooped.

"Shut up Dean." Sam whined but couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"But seriously Sam, how've you been?" Dean asked the laughter suddenly gone from his eyes and replaced with an overwhelming amount of concern.

"Good Dean, I've been real good." Sam swallowed. "I've got an interview in a couple weeks if my LSAT score is high enough."

"An interview for what?"

"Law school."

"Law school." Dean repeated with pride in his eyes. "Little Sammy the lawyer."

Sam smiled. Dean's pride was enough to make his heart swell and forget about the pain he felt when he left. Screw his dad and the family business. All he needed was his brother's approval, his dad could shove it.

"What about your girl, you gonna make an honest woman out of her?"

"Like marry her?" Sam gulped thinking of that little black box in his underwear drawer.

"Yeah ass hat, you gonna ask her to marry your sorry ass?"

"Uh,"

"Sam?" Dean asked, concerned at his lack of an answer. "You two are still together right?"

"Oh yeah no, we're still together." Sam said in a rush.

"Well then are you gonna ask her or not?"

"I think I am." He whispered.

"You're shitting me?!" Dean yelped a manic smiled breaking out across his face. "Sammy Winchester is gettin' married! C'mere little brother!" Sam stood just in time to be wrapped up in another bone crunching hug. "Congrats man, really."

"I haven't asked her yet and she still has to say yes." Sam pointed out as Dean let go of him.

"Semantics, and dude you know she's gonna say yes. You're a Winchester, women can't resist us."

"I guess." Sam blushed.

"We gotta go out and celebrate man!" Dean beamed, clapping his hands together.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Sam asked suddenly hit with crippling worry. Gordon was still at large, no doubt gunning for his big brother. "Maybe we should just stay here and celebrate."

"Nah man Bobby doesn't have the good stuff and you kid, deserve the good stuff."

"I don't think we should go out Dean." Sam said again, this time firmer.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because Gordon-"

"Seriously?!" Dean hissed. "You're still on this Gordon thing?"

"Yeah Dean! You're not safe until he's caught!" Sam thundered back.

"Sam, Gordon isn't goin' to come after me." Dean chuckled humorlessly, his hands resting on his hips. Just like that, the happy atmosphere was gone and heavy tension filled the space between the brothers.

"How do you know he's not?" Sam fumed. "You kind of ruined his life Dean, who says he's not goin' to seek revenge?"

"Because revenge isn't Gordon's style Sam." Dean answered.

"Not his style? Dean, this is the guy that tried to kill you, in this kitchen! He almost killed me! You don't think he's capable of a little revenge?"

"I'm well aware of what Gordon is capable Sam." Dean growled sounding more like his dog self than human. The sound sent shivers down Sam's spine as he took an involuntary step backwards. "I didn't forget what he did; I can't forget what he did." Dean's left hand came to rest on his right forearm where Sam knew scars of the past lay hidden. "I'm not a fucking child Sam. If he comes after me then I'll tear his throat out just like I did to that bastard Kev. I don't need protecting."

Sam gulped at the murderous look in his brother's eyes. It was too easy to forget what Dean really was. But when Dean reminded you, he made damn sure you wouldn't forget it again.

"I hate to break it to you Cujo but, Sam's right. It might not be such a good idea to be stickin' your neck out while he's out there." Bobby's gruff voice came from the doorway. Sam spun around to face the new arrival, a smile gracing his face despite his heated argument with his brother.

"Bobby!" he called out happily.

"Hey kid, nice of you to stop by." He smiled warmly. "Now why don't we sit down and talk about this before your dumb ass brother bites something?"

TBC...