Mary felt her heart constrict as she walked inside Dean's room and picked up the note. Her hands shook and she held back tears as she unfolded it, hoping that Dean had just gone outside or taken a walk as she read.

Hey guys.

If you cared enough to come up and find this, you know I left. If you're worried, I'm sorry. But I can't take this anymore.

Dad, I'm sorry I'm not the son you wanted. I can't make the grades Sammy does, or always be happy like Sammy is, or be as patient as he is. I try so hard to make you proud of me and all you ever tell me is how I can do it better or how I should have done it in the first place. It just feels like I'll never be good enough for you. Mom says that you love me and you're just not that good at showing it, but I don't really buy that. You've got no trouble hugging and kissing Mom and telling her that you love her. You tell Sam he did great every time he brings home a good grade or finishes his chores. You're always hanging out with him and going to stuff at his school or his soccer games, but you never ask if I want to do anything together. You only hung out with me tonight because Mom made you.

I'm trying hard, Dad. But I feel like I'm drowning. Me and Jimmy were best friends since we were three. He's the reason I passed every single grade. He's the reason I actually used to like school. I feel like I'm drowning, and every time Mom helps and pulls my head up above the water, you just push it right back down. I just want to be able to talk to you, Dad. Really talk to you without being yelled at or pushed around.

Mom, I'm sorry to you too. I didn't know it bothered you so much when Dad and I argued. But I liked talking to you because any time Dad made me feel like I couldn't measure up, you'd make me feel better. Like I could do anything. But I get it now. You only did that because you felt like you had to. I still appreciate it, but don't worry. I won't ask you to again.

Sammy, I'm sorry Dad and I scared you when we were fighting. But with me gone now, it shouldn't be a problem. Thanks for always being a good brother, even when I maybe wasn't so great to you. Stay good, kiddo. Take care of Mom and Dad for me. You're smart, Sam. Really smart. Figure out where I went wrong and stay away from it, then maybe you won't have the same problems with Dad that I do. Hope to see you soon, bro. Love you, squirt.

I have to go now. Love you guys.

-Dean

A heartbroken Mary read the letter through one more time. She was frozen in place, and she was beating herself up. Dean liked to pretend he was tough, but at his core, he was still a sensitive little boy. She should have known that telling Dean he couldn't come to her and talk about something bothering him would translate in his head to 'mom doesn't care anymore'.

"Oh, Dean."

"Mom? Are you okay?"

Mary turned, hoping that Dean had changed his mind and come back. But it was Sam.

"Sammy. Come here. I have a job for you." Mary walked over and placed both hands on Sam's shoulders. "I need you, very carefully, to walk up and down the street and see if you see Dean."

"Dean? Where is he?"

"I don't know, Sammy."

"He ran away, didn't he?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. He did. But he hasn't been gone long, so I need you to walk to each end of the street and see if you see Dean. Sammy, this is really important, and I need you to do this, okay?"

"But it's dark outside."

"Stay under the streetlights and you'll be fine. Can you do this for me?"

"Yeah, Mom. If he's here, I'll find him."

"Thank you, Sam. Go." Mary walked to her bedroom, where John was still stewing on their bed. "Tell me right now what happened tonight."

"I thought you said you didn't want to hear it."

"Shut up and answer me." Mary said, shoving Dean's note into John's hands.

"What is this?"

"Read it. Fast. And then answer my damn question. What happened tonight?"

John read over the note that Mary handed him, and Mary could see the words registering on his face. She could see the truth setting in, and the guilt etched all over his face. John immediately stood up and grabbed his car keys from the nightstand.

"I'll go out and look for him."

"I've got Sam doing that."

"He's ten!"

"He's going up and down the street. If he doesn't find Dean, then you'll go out and look for him. Until then, tell me now. What happened?"

"Dean and I decided to watch a movie. We made dinner together and I was talking to him about school. He brought out the quiz and showed it to me, then snatched it out of my hand. That's what started the fight."

"What did you say?" Mary asked. "When he gave you that quiz, what did you say?"

"I told him he should try for an A next time."

Mary had never felt such rage towards anyone. It boiled up inside her and she had to push it down to keep from exploding. She turned from John, placed both hands on her hips and tried to remind herself that John hadn't deliberately hurt Dean.

"Mary?"

"Is it so hard" Mary said, slowly and carefully, "to tell him that you are proud of him?"

"I am…"

"Then why can't you tell him? John, you have to say it. You have to actually say the words."

"I know that. I thought I did…"

"John, no. Listen to me. Dean needs to hear you actually say the words 'I am proud of you'. He needs to hear you say that he did a good job. I have told you this before. Why can't you get that your thick, stubborn head?" Mary's voice was rising steadily as she talked, and she was barely restraining herself from shouting.

"Mom?"

Mary turned to the door. Sam was back. "Did you see anything, honey?"

"No. But Dean's bike is gone."

"What?"

"I looked in the garage to see if Dean's bike was there. It's gone." Sam's voice was shaking. "Mom, where's Dean?"

"I don't know, honey. But we're gonna find him, okay? Stay in here with your dad."

"Where you going?"

"I'm calling the police."

"Mary, I'll go out…" John said.

"No." Mary turned around and glared at John. "We are getting the police involved. We are not arguing about this. You've done enough damage for one night. Stay here and comfort your son. I'm calling the police and asking the neighbors to help."

Sam was standing in the doorway freely crying. Mary gave him a quick hug and kiss and told him to sit with his dad. Sam walked into the bedroom and climbed up next to John, who pulled the scared boy into his lap and held him close. As he comforted Sam, the dark thought crossed his mind maybe if you'd shown this much care to Dean he wouldn't have run away.

"Dad? Is Dean gonna be okay?" Sam asked tearfully.

He didn't care now about whether or not he was crying. Even bigger kids would have cried being this scared. Even Dean, his much bigger and tougher brother, would have cried being this scared. He searched John's face for hope, for some sign of certainty that his brother would come back and everything would be okay again. John tried to force a smile and gently wiped the tears off Sam's face. He looked so much younger at the moment, more like a scared toddler than a soon to be preteen. Like Dean did when he was that age.

"Yeah, buddy. Dean's gonna be just fine."

"He's coming home, right?"

"Yes. Mom and I are gonna make sure of that."

"Why'd he run? Doesn't he love us anymore?"

"Of course he does, Sam. Dean loves us a lot. He ran because…" John choked. The admission was painful but it had to come out.

"Why, Dad?"

"Because he doesn't think that I love him anymore."

"Is this 'cause of all the fighting you guys have been doing lately?"

"Yeah. It is." John said. "I hurt Dean's feelings tonight and I didn't mean to. He left after that."

"Can I help look for him?"

John sighed. He knew Sam wanted to help, but he wanted at least one kid in his sight right now. "I'll tell you what. I'm giving you the most important job of all."

"What's that?"

"I want you to make Dean something for when he gets home. Something that shows him how much we love him. Can you do that for me?"

"Sure." Sam said. "Can I start right now?"

John checked the clock. It was close to Sam's bedtime, but he knew that Sam would never be able to sleep right now. Neither would Mary or John. "Yeah, bud. You can start right now. Just stay in your room or, if you want some company, come out and find me or Mom. Okay?"

"Okay, Dad. I'll do it." Sam climbed off the bed, then turned back to John. "Hey, Dad? I know you're upset. But Dean loves you. Just tell him you're sorry and you didn't mean to do it and he'll forgive you."

I hope so, Sammy. "I know, bud. Thanks."

"I'm going to my room now."

"Hey, Sam? Can I have a hug?"

Sam climbed onto the bed and wrapped both arms around his dad's neck. Hugs were increasingly rare among the three men in the family as Sam and Dean got older. Maybe that's part of the problem, John thought. Sam left and went to his room, then decided to grab his paper and art supplies and stay in his parent's room to keep John company. Mary came back and grabbed her car keys.

"Jeanette and Mike are helping me search. The police'll be here soon to take a report. I'm going to drive around and try to find him."

"Mary…"

"Not now." Mary said. She pointedly walked around, avoiding John, and kissed Sam's cheek. "I'll be back. I'm going to look for Dean. You can stay up later than your bedtime if you need to, but try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Can I sleep in here if you don't find Dean tonight?" Sam whispered in Mary's ear.

"Count on it." She gave him another kiss on the cheek, then left.

John turned to Sam, trying to keep up a brave face that he didn't really feel. "So. What are you working on, Sam?"