Inverse Operations

by Samantha J. Brown

AU part of my Inverse Operations verse based off of the Proverb Verse by acidquill. The series rewritten with Dean as the younger brother and Sam as the four years older brother.

4. Phantom Traveler

Inverse Operations: Phantom Traveler

Sam had decided that sleep was for the weak. Which was why at 5:30 am he had not slept at all, and was currently going to get coffee for himself and Dean. He'd been up all night, watching crap TV, and keeping himself from drifting off. Who knew Dean's insomnia was contagious? Dean, who had gone to bed at 3 because Sam had finally laid down the law and made him. What a pair they made. Sam pulled up at the local coffee shop and bought some donuts, a triple loaded with cream and sugar for himself and a single black coffee for Dean.

When Sam pulled back up to the motel it was 5:45. He'd already decided to get Dean up already, even if he needed the sleep. Dean would hate him for it, Sam was sure, but he wanted someone to talk to and besides, the coffee would get cold. Then Dean would really hate him.

When he opened the door he stood there for a second, having noticed Dean's hand under the pillow. Sam knew he was most likely clutching the giant silver knife he insisted on keeping under there. He walked out from behind the glass wall and took a sip of his coffee.

"Morning sunshine." He greeted in his most charming 'I'm totally a morning person' voice, even though he felt like absolute shit. Dean groaned and looked up, while not so discretely pulling his hand out from under his pillow.

"What time is it?" He asked. Sam almost laughed at his appearance. Deans green eyes were squinted and groggy, and his hair was flattened on one side and mussed up on the other.

"It's about 5:45." Sam replied, doing his best imitation of 'I'm so not tired, and I can totally stand up on my own thank you very fucking much'.

"In the morning?" Dean's voice was more than slightly pissed, just as Sam had suspected.

"Yep."

"Where does the day go?" He replied sarcastically, and with another groan was sitting up on the bed. Dean rubbed his eyes, then stared at Sam. Sam got the uncomfortable feeling that he was being scrutinized.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Dean asked, though they both already knew the answer.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours." Sam was a really bad liar, and Dean knew it.

"Liar. See I was up at 3, and you were watching the beginning of the George Foreman infomercial." Dean was giving him that face that clearly said, 'Don't bullshit a bullshitter Sammy'. Sam shrugged and held up his food laden hands in defeat.

"What can I say, it's riveting TV. And it's not like you're any better. I had to practically shove your ass into bed last night." Dean opened his mouth to reply, then shut it. He knew Sam was right. They both needed more sleep, and they both knew it, but neither one of them could stop with the insomnia. Sam still wasn't even sure why Dean had his, and until he found out there was nothing he could do for his little brother other than make him go to bed when he stayed up too late.

"When's the last time you got a good night's sleep?" Dean asked. Sam sighed; it didn't matter to Dean if he wasn't sleeping right, as long as big brother was okay. Sam knew this, but hated it more and more every time it was proven. For some reason Dean's overall concern revolved around Sam and their father, none was saved for himself.

"I don't know, little while I guess. It's no big deal." Sam replied without looking at him.

"Yeah it is."

"Look I appreciate your concern-"

"Oh I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp." Dean cut him off. Sam just rolled his eyes. Dean was concerned, very concerned, but Sam didn't want him to be.

"Trust me Sam, this insomnia thing…" Dean trailed off and swallowed hard. His eyes grew dark as he looked down at his lap. "It's not good." Sam almost asked him then and there how he knew that, but before he got the chance Dean continued to talk.

"Seriously though, you still having nightmares about Jess?" Dean asked, all earlier darkness gone from his face.

Sam sighed in defeat and sat across from him.

"Yeah." Better to go with the truth than a half-assed lie when it came to the youngest Winchester. He handed Dean his coffee before continuing. "But it's not just her it's everything. I just forgot you know? This job- man it gets to you."

"Well you can't let it, you can't bring it home like that." Dean took a long pull from his coffee and Sam was reminded with a pang that he shouldn't have woken Dean up. He needed sleep too, and he'd been going on a lot less for a lot longer than Sam had. Sam knew he needed to know where Dean got his insomnia, and he figured he could start with a seemingly normal assumption.

"So, what? All this- it never keeps you up at night?" Sam asked. He tried to keep the suspicion out of his tone. Was this why Dean never slept? Because he was in constant fear of the things that came with the job- with the life? Dean shook his head. Of course not.

"Really? You're never afraid?" Sam asked skeptically. Dean shook his head again.

"No, not really." Sam scoffed and reached under Dean's pillow. He pulled out the large silver bowie knife that Dean always kept under his pillows. When Sam had started hunting with Dean again it was one of the first things he'd noticed. How Dean always had some kind of protection with him wherever he went, even when he was asleep. It unnerved Sam a little that his little brother felt the need to constantly be able to protect himself, almost like he thought Sam couldn't protect him.

Dean plucked the knife from Sam's hand.

"That's not fear. That is precaution." He said, dumping the knife back on his pillow.

"All right, whatever, I'm too tired to argue." Sam replied. He took a large chug of coffee and relished the alertness that came with the caffeine. He was pretending not to notice Dean's concerned gaze when Dean's phone rang. Dean grabbed it and looked at the number, then at Sam. There was a curious look in his eyes and Sam just shrugged. He didn't know who it was either. He thought for a fleeting moment that it might be John. That maybe he'd get to yell at their father to get his ass over there and apologize for making them soldiers and abandoning Dean, but Sam knew that was a stupid pointless hope.

Dean flipped open the phone and answered with a blunt, "Hello?"

Sam grabbed a donut and started eating all the while watching Dean on the phone. Dean still looked confused and Sam couldn't hear whoever was on the other end of the phone, but whoever was talking didn't seem to be anybody Dean knew. That was until recognition lit Dean's eyes and he replied to the man on the phone.

"Oh right, yeah, up in Kittanning Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing." Sam shot Dean a confused look, but didn't miss the look of pride on Dean's face when he talked about the case. "It's not back is it?" Dean asked with a more serious look on his face. He listened to the man talk for a while, and the curious look on his face just continued to grow.

"What is it?" He asked eventually. Dean nodded suddenly.

"Yeah all right. We can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see ya Jerry." He flipped the phone shut and looked up at Sam.

"Who was that?" Sam asked immediately.

"I'll tell you when we get in the car."

Once Dean had showered and changed, and Sam had packed the car they got in the Impala and Dean started to drive.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" Sam asked after they'd been in the car for all of 30 seconds. Dean nodded.

"If you give me a glazed." Sam laughed shortly and pulled a glazed donut out of the box he'd brought earlier and handed it to Dean. He polished off the donut quickly and Sam realized with a frown that Dean was probably starving.

"All right, well, it was about a year after you left. I was in school in, uh, Louisiana I think. Dad had been gone for a few weeks, but he showed up one day after school. He said he'd caught wind of a haunting up in Pennsylvania and that he couldn't get anyone else so he needed me to go." Sam caught the hurt look in Dean's eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that Dean was hurt by their father's insinuation that Dean was a last resort for him. That other people could do the job better, even when John himself had raised and trained Dean. Sam was just angry that John felt he had any right to pull Dean back into the hunt like that. So suddenly and without any regard to anything that might have been going on in Dean's life

"So I went with him. There was a guy there, Jerry Panowski, his house was being haunted by a poltergeist. Dad and I went in and cleared it out. No big deal, thing was nasty though. Almost took my head off, threw Dad through a window too." Dean got a faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering something. Suddenly he shivered and Sam frowned. Dean chewed his bottom lip and glanced at Sam. Sam knew there was more to the story immediately.

"There something else you wanna tell me?" Sam asked. Dean continued to stare at him, conflict lighting his eyes. Worry too. He wasn't sure whether or not to tell Sam about what happened because he didn't know how he'd react to it.

"No, nothing."

"Dean…"

"It was nothing."

Dean turned up the radio and Sam knew his chances of finding out what happened were over. He wanted to punch a hole through the Impala's windshield. Their Dad had done something, Sam was sure. Something Dean didn't think he'd approve of. That could only mean one of two things. A; their father had done something stupid and it involved an innocent person, or B; their father had done something stupid, and it had involved Dean. Sam knew which one made him angrier. He also knew that this was why Dean didn't want to tell him. Sam now knew, without a doubt, that their father had done something stupid involving Dean.

SPN

After the silent drive over Dean stopped the car in the parking lot of an airport. Sam was surprised; they didn't visits airports often. Sam was sure it was because Dean and their father would never even dream of leaving the Impala.

"He works here." Dean supplied as Sam looked around. Sam nodded. Dean walked toward an entrance no one was using, one that said staff only. He knocked on the door and almost immediately a short older but not old man walked up and opened the door. He was wearing khakis and a white work shirt with a tie. His hair was a graying brown, and he was balding. He quirked a relieved smile when he saw Dean.

"Hey Dean. Who's this?" He asked, looking at Sam. Dean looked back at Sam before answering.

"That's my older brother, Sam." Jerry's smile grew.

"Oh nice. Good to meet you Sam." He held out his hand and Sam took it.

"You too."

"Come on inside boys." They walked into the building and Sam noticed immediately that they weren't in any of the regular parts of the airport. They were in a workshop area of sorts. Bits and pieces of planes were all over the place, some being worked on, and some just there.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick." Jerry started as he walked next to Sam. Dean was trailing behind looking around at the various pieces of plane. "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean and your Dad really helped me out." Jerry spoke with something akin to pride in his voice. Sam didn't fail to notice that he sounded incredibly grateful too.

"Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asked with no disbelief in his voice. He didn't doubt his family's skills. It was just that a part of him, small and stupid as it may be, was still hoping that Dean was lying and that he hadn't actually been put in that much danger when he was 16.

"Poltergeist? Man I love that movie!" One of the workmen shouted. Jerry shot him a withering glare.

"Hey nobody's talking to you, keep walking!" Jerry snapped. Sam almost laughed; he was beginning to like the guy, and Sam didn't miss the grin on Dean's face. It almost looked like he'd missed the guy. Jerry turned back to Sam.

"Damn right it was a poltergeist- practically tore our house apart." He glanced back at Dean.

"Tell you something- if it wasn't for you and your Dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." Jerry said as he walked ahead. Sam was left walking next to Dean who shot him a pride filled grin. He was happy, Sam realized. Dean had no misgivings over the potential danger of the hunt he'd been forced into. Whatever John had done didn't matter to him, he was just honest to God glad to have been able to help this man and his family. Sam hadn't seen Dean look that happy in a while. Dean really does belong in this life. Sam realized. Dean relished not only the hunt, but also his ability to save people. He loved what he did, he didn't care about the danger, he just honestly loved what he did, and he was never going to stop. Sam didn't know whether to be proud of his little brother, or really really worried.

"So your Dad said you were at college, is that right?" Jerry asked suddenly, and Sam caught up with him again. Dean once again decided to stay back and tag along behind them.

"Yeah," Sam answered, "I was. I'm… Taking some time off." He swallowed thickly. He really hoped that was all this was, and not just him dropping out, never to see the Stanford campus ever again.

"Well he was real proud of you, I could tell. He talked about you all the time." That one shocked Sam. It took him completely by surprise and shook him to the core. John Winchester, the same man who'd thrown him out of the house for going to college, was proud of him? Had talked all about him?

"He did?" Sam was completely and utterly shocked. There were no other words for it. He noticed Dean's slightly sad look that clearly said I told you so. Sam was suddenly brought back to that night on the bridge during their first hunt back together. Back to Dean's words when he'd pinned Sam to the side of the bridge, his eyes a burning fury.

You think I don't hear that all the time?! Why can't you be smart like Sammy Dean?

All the time? Sam wasn't completely sure of anything, mostly because he didn't want to be, but he was pretty sure that meant that even when Dean had seen their father he'd been comparing Dean to Sam. After all Sam was the oldest, the smarter of the two book wise, the one who'd graduated and gone off to college. Maybe their father had wanted Dean to be more like Sam, despite how he'd raised them both. Maybe he'd gotten drunk and compared Dean to Sam and after he'd seen it he couldn't un-see it. Maybe all this time Sam had been away, Dean had been forced to try and live up to his big brother. To put his feet in a path that Sam had already walked; a path that didn't quite fit him.

Sam suddenly had overwhelming feelings of pity and guilt for his little brother. All that time Sam had been trying to force Dean into his life, his normal, and now he realized their father had been trying to do the same. But as Sam had realized earlier it wasn't for Dean. He didn't want that normal, didn't crave it, didn't think about it all the time. Not only had he been abandoned, but he'd also been compared to someone he could never and would never want to be, and it was completely and utterly unfair.

"Yeah, you bet he did." He turned to Dean suddenly, who was looking away, looking anywhere but Sam. "Oh hey, you know I tried to get ahold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing anyway?" Jerry asked, seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension between the brothers.

Dean looked quickly to Sam before looking away again; staring down at the floor as he talked.

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now." Dean's lie was convincing, and Sam didn't hear any breaks in his voice. Dean was getting better at lying through his teeth, and that worried Sam. How long would it be before Dean could so easily lie to him?

"Well, we're missing the old man. We get Sam. Even trade, huh?" Jerry was just trying to lighten the mood Sam knew, but he saw the momentary falter in Dean's mask. It hadn't been meant that way, they both knew, but Dean didn't seem to be able to take it the right way. He was never compared to either of them in a positive manner, hadn't ever been, Sam realized. But apparently he'd been told plenty of times that he wasn't as good. No wonder Dean's opinion of himself was so low.

The brother's waved off the comparison with a short tense laugh.

"No, not by a long shot." Sam muttered.

"I got something I want you guys to hear." Jerry said, and turned in his otherwise straight foreword path into his office. Sam noticed the man had the annoying ability to change the subject at random.

When they got inside the office Jerry schooled them on the case. A plane had gone down, United Britaina flight 2485, 200 miles south of its take off position. The cock pit recording had plenty of EVP. There were voices and static at the beginning, but by the end there had been nothing but a loud and devilish growling plowing through the speakers. They'd discussed the tape, Sam had asked for passenger manifests, a list of survivors, and Dean had asked to see the wreckage. Jerry could get them the lists, but he had no access to the wreckage. As soon as they were out of the office, Dean came up with a solution for that. They were going to go in to check the wreckage under the guise of homeland security agents. Sam wasn't sure how well the plan was going to work, but Dean was fairly confident. He got them fake ID's as soon as they got out of the airport.

Sam then proceeded to show Dean the EVP from the recording. The inhuman growls ended up saying no survivors. The problem was there had been seven survivors. The first survivor they went to talk to was Max Jaffey. He was in a mental hospital. After talking to him the brothers discovered a man had opened the emergency lock on the door, something no human could do. They also discovered that the man had had black eyes.

The next stop was the house of the guy with the back eyes. Sam had thought that maybe the guy was some kind of monster, but thanks to insight from his wife, all chances of that were cut short. He was completely normal before the flight, aside from acid reflux and being terrified to fly.

Next stop: NTSB warehouse to look at the wreckage. But for that, they needed suits. Something Dean was less than happy about.

When they walked into the tux shop Dean was looking around at the tuxes like he looked at brussels sprouts. With the upmost amount of distain possible.

When they walked in Sam walked right up to the counter where an elderly woman was sitting filling out a crossword puzzle, and looking completely and utterly bored out of her mind. Her name tag read Janice.

"Excuse me, uh, Janice." Sam said as he walked over, a light smile on his face. Dean walked over more carefully, still eyeing the suits with distrust.

Janice's wrinkly face broke into a smile as soon as she saw them. She was a pleasant looking woman, who wore little makeup, and whose gray hair was tied loosely behind her head. Her cheeks were rosy and her smile genuine. She looked like the kind of grandmother who would spoil her grandchildren rotten.

"Oh hello dear! How are you today? Are you looking for a suit?" She asked. Dean scoffed behind Sam, and Sam shot him a glare, before turning back to Janice.

"Yeah, you see our Dad's work is hosting a dinner party and we've been invited. We both need suits. I'm pretty sure I remember my number, but it's been a while since my little brother needed a suit, so I'm going to need some help finding one for him." Sam could practically hear Dean's scowl. Janice smiled even brighter, if that was possible.

"Of course! What are your names?"

"I'm Sam, and that's Dean."

Janice got out from behind the counter and shook hands with Sam before looking over and inspecting Dean.

"Well aren't you a handsome boy! I'm sure you'll look positively dapper in a suit! Make all the ladies swoon huh?" She asked, her smile firmly in place. Dean looked so uncomfortable Sam wanted to laugh.

"Uh, sure?" Sam bit his lip to hold back laughter. Janice had immediately led Dean away, motioning for Sam to follow. She grabbed multiple suits off of racks as they headed to the back of the store. She handed Dean a pile of what seemed to be at least 10 suits. He looked at her with disbelieving and wary green eyes. She simply shooed him off into one of the dressing rooms.

"Try on one then step out and show us. Make sure not to skip any. I counted how many there were boy, I'll know if you miss one." Janice shut Dean in the dressing room with a wink and flourish. Sam heard several muffled curses come from behind the door and his face finally broke out into a grin.

"Now, sweetie, do you know what you need?" She asked Sam politely.

"Uh, yeah, I know. I had a college interview a little while back and I got a suit for that. Sadly that one got lost so I need a new one. I'm ganna go grab it, can you wait for my brother?" He asked and with a pang remembered his old life. His normal life. His life with Jessica and job interviews and law school and without Dean. Sam didn't like that train of thought at all.

Janice just nodded, another brilliant smile lighting her old face.

"Of course dear, just come on back when you've gotten what you need." Sam nodded and headed into the racks, looking around for a suit he liked that fit the criteria of homeland security. There was one in the very back of the store, his size, black, black tie, white shirt, and he grabbed a pair of shoes to match. He was about to grab a pair for Dean when he realized he didn't know Dean's size. Sam stopped dead right then and there. He didn't know Dean's shoe size. It seemed insignificant, but to Sam, it wasn't. Not by a long shot. It was just another symbol of his epic failure from four years ago.

When they were younger and John had been away Sam had done all the shopping. Of course he took Dean with him every time, but he'd been the one with the money, and he'd paid. He remembered very clearly that he always picked out Dean's shoes. Every time Dean's feet outgrew his boots and he needed new ones Sam went to the store immediately and bought Dean a new pair. He'd always measure his little brother himself, and he always got the pair that Dean liked the most. It was a silly little thing that most people over looked but for Sam, each memory was special to him. It was special because for once it was just him looking after his little brother, and buying him new shoes like normal people. Just him and Dean doing something normal that dint' require guns or salt or blood. Granted normally parents bought their kids shoes, but when they were younger it had always been Sam. He remembered the first time he'd done it. Dean had been eight and Sam had been twelve. Their father had gone off on a hunt leaving the two of them alone, but this time had been different. This time their father had turned to Sam and said, "Sammy I'm ganna be gone a little longer this time. I'm not ganna be back for a few days, maybe a week. If you or Dean need something, then you can go get it, but make sure to never let your brother out of your sight Sam." Sam had nodded and promised not to leave Dean alone.

It was two days in when Sam noticed Dean limping. At first he'd freaked out, and tried to figure out if he was injured. Eventually Sam had noticed that Dean's shoes were too small. The eight year olds sneakers were killing his feet and as a result he was limping. Five minutes later they were at the local shoe store. Sam had taken Dean's shoe size and grabbed a pair of cheap sneakers. Dean however had come back with child sized boots. He'd shown them to Sam and said, "I want boots like you and Dad have." The smile that split his young face was enough to make Sam go weak in the knees. Even though the boots had been more expensive than they could really afford Sam had gotten them for Dean, and he'd gotten them a little bit big so he could have them for a while as his feet grew.

When their Dad got back he'd said nothing about the boots, he probably hadn't even noticed they were there (He'd been shit drunk when he'd gotten home and Dean had comforted him for hours after). When he woke up hungover but sober the next morning he'd only asked Sam if everything had gone all right and Sam had said it had been fine. They'd left it at that, but Sam was proud of himself anyway. He'd helped Dean when their father had been gone and then too drunk to care. In addition he'd made Dean smile and that had been more than enough for him.

After that they'd always gone out to get shoes together, and Sam had always bought Dean his. It was an odd little tradition, but it was something Sam could do with Dean that didn't involve killing things or school and it had been nice.

Which was why, as Sam stood staring at the rows of men's dress shoes, he was overcome with an incredible sense of wrong. He should know Dean's shoe size. He always had. It was a small thing they both took for granted, but now that Sam was faced with it again he was hit once more with how much he'd missed.

Three influential years of Dean's life were not present in his memory. Not because they'd been taken, but because they hadn't been there to begin with. Sam swallowed hard. Dean had changed so much in so many ways. Some obvious, some not so obvious. Sam knew, without a doubt, that there were still aspects of Dean he was missing. There were still things he didn't know, and that was oh so very wrong.

"Sam!" He heard Janice's shout and walked back through the isles to where the changing rooms were. What he saw had him smirking immediately. Dean was dressed head to toe in a plain black suit. You couldn't tell, but Sam knew the fabric and quality would be cheap. Dean would have made sure.

The white shirt was tucked in at the waist, and the jacket was left unbuttoned. He wore a long thin black tie, and looked incredibly uncomfortable. In fact his expression was straight up annoyed.

"Doesn't he look positively marvelous Sam?" Janice asked, her eyes sparking with appreciation. Dean huffed and Sam tried not to laugh.

"Yeah Janice he does. Thanks. Can you ring us up? I want to go get Dean some shoes." Janice nodded and walked back through the stacks toward the entrance. Dean however was looking at Sam with a strange look on his face and Sam knew at once that he wasn't the only one who remembered all the shoe stores they'd visited growing up.

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them as they walked to the very back of the store. When they reached the shoes Sam turned to Dean, who was scanning his choices warily.

"So, uh," Sam cleared his throat. "What size are you?" He asked. Dean looked up at him, and then looked back at the shoes.

"Uh, I'm a size ten." He muttered. Sam scanned the choices and grabbed a pair of cheap black shoes that were size 10. He handed them to Dean who took them without a word.

"Dean I gotta ask…"

"Yeah?"

"Was it really like that? While I was at Stanford? Did Dad really compare you to me a lot?" Sam hoped to God the answer was no. But when had he ever been that lucky? He got his answer however when Dean's eyes turned dark and he looked away.

"Yeah, I guess. 's not a big deal. Let's go pay." With that he walked off, and Sam had no choice to follow, a frown etched onto his face.

Of course when they got to check out Dean's dark mood had done a complete 180, and he was once again the reluctant teenager buying a suit. They said goodbye to Janice and left the store still dressed in suits.

"Man I look like one of the Blues Brothers." Dean said as soon as they got outside the store. Sam fixed his tie and scanned Dean.

"No you don't. You look more like a seventh grader at his first dance." Sam smirked. Dean looked down at his body with disgust on his face. When he looked up again the disgust was so obvious it was comical.

"I hate this thing."

"Hey, you want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asked. Dean didn't respond and Sam had to try really hard not to laugh.

SPN

When they got to the warehouse they grabbed the badges and Dean grabbed something from the trunk, then they went inside. They showed their badges to the guy at the front desk and Sam was proud of his poker face, and extremely proud of Dean's. The eighteen year old stuck out like a needle in a haystack, but he must have looked like he meant serious business, because the guy just waved them in. They walked into the room at down the hall and the wreckage was revealed. There wasn't much of it left, just bits and pieces of broken plane scattered around in a plane shaped mold. Dean shivered.

"Man this thing was destroyed. How did anyone survive this?" Dean asked while looking around. Sam shrugged.

"No idea." Suddenly Dean pulled what looked like a busted Walkman out of his pocket and put the headphones in his ears.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"Seriously Sam? Did that three year college excursion shove all that lifesaving stuff outta your brain or something? It's an EMF meter. You know, the thing that reads electromagnetic frequencies?" Dean asked the annoyance and sarcasm clear in his voice. Now Sam was starting to get annoyed as well. He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted up Walkman?" He asked. Dean turned around and gave him a smile, not a shit eating grin, but an honest to God smile. Like he was actually happy and proud of himself. It was something Sam hadn't seen for years. Too many years.

"'Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade." He was very proud of himself, but Sam was still too annoyed to respond nicely.

"Yeah, I can see that." Sam replied, his voice laden with sarcasm. Dean's smile faltered, and his expression turned hurt, he glared at Sam and turned around. That wasn't what Sam had meant to say. He'd meant to say he was impressed, really impressed, and that Dean had just revealed himself to be smarter than more than half of Sam's senior class in high school. But all he ended up doing was mocking his little brother and his skills. Dean had plenty of hunting skills, and from what Sam had seen so far Dean was one of the best hunters he'd ever seen, and he'd seen plenty. But what he was surprised, and a little shocked, to see was that Dean had more marketable skills as an engineer. He'd reverse engineered the Walkman and turned it into something completely different that worked. Sam was pretty sure that if he'd expressed this ability in school he could have been accepted to some pretty impressive colleges. Maybe even MIT. Sam mused.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a burst of bright red light. Dean had turned on the Walkman turned EMF and was scanning the wreckage. Sam noted the tense shoulders and stiff movement, Dean was still hurt, and a little angry too. Sam swallowed hard, why did he keep screwing up where Dean came into things? How did he keep messing up his little brother? Wasn't that what he was trying to fix in the first place? The damage their father had done? He wasn't supposed to be causing more damage.

Suddenly the EMF lit up red and Dean stopped. He moved it around what appeared to be a door handle.

"Check out the emergency door handle." Dean said, running his fingers over it. Sam had the urge to pull Dean's hand away. There was something on the handle, and it was most definitely not good.

"What is this stuff?" Dean asked, rubbing his fingers together and glaring at them.

"One way to find out." Sam replied. He pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket and cut away a piece of the handle, then put it into a small zip-lock bag. Sam felt Dean wipe his hands on his jacket, and he turned around to give Dean a bitchface, but he didn't comment. He'd hurt Dean enough today. Sam zipped the bag and they headed out the back door.

They navigated their way through the back until they were at a corner. Dean looked around the corner and motioned for Sam to follow. They walked briskly away towards the fence that would lead to their freedom. An alarm started to blare. Sam put his hand on Dean's back and they sped up. The fence was lined with barbed wire. Dean threw his jacket over the top of the fence, and with a boost from a pile of boxes they found, jumped over the fence. Sam followed suit. Since he was taller and his arms were longer he was able to reach the flat part of the fence that didn't have barbed wire, and jump over it without cutting his hand.

"These monkey suits do come in handy." Dean mused before they ran off.

SPN

When they got back to Jerry's office he analyzed the piece of handle that Sam had brought back and deduced that the stuff on it was sulfur. Sam had noticed Dean's eyes go wide because they both knew there was pretty much only one thing that it could be at that point: a demon.

When they got back to their motel room the research started immediately. Dean was even helping because he knew that to take on a demon they'd need to know every detail they could get their hands on.

They'd been doing research for an hour when Sam's vision started to go fuzzy. He'd been staring at the computer screen too long and he could hear Dean's stomach from across the room.

"I'm ganna go grab something to eat, you want anything?" Sam asked as he stood up from the table. Dean didn't appear to be listening as he was buried in an old dusty book they'd picked up from the towns library on the way back. Sam rolled his eyes and walked up to Dean.

"Dean?" Dean jumped.

"What?"

"Do you want something to eat?" Sam asked again. Dean looked at the book then back to Sam. He had a guarded look on his face, one Sam couldn't quite decipher.

"No, I'm good." His stomach chose then to give the loudest rumble ever. Sam gave him a bitchface.

"Really Dean?" Dean kept a straight face.

"Really, I'm not hungry." Sam scrubbed his hands across his face. This was too difficult. It was just food? Why was Dean refusing food when he was so obviously hungry?

"Dean, you're obviously hungry, I could hear your stomach from over there. I'm going to get you food, so you might as well pick something or I'm coming back with a salad and you're going to have to eat it."

"Fine. Get me a cheeseburger." Dean grumbled. "And a beer." Sam scoffed.

"Not on your life. You're still eighteen Dean." Sam reminded him, and he was going to stick by that. It didn't matter what Dean was used to, in fact Sam knew he'd had his first beer back when he was eight, and that now he'd probably been drinking freely for at least three years, if not more, but that didn't change the fact that Dean was still only eighteen. To Sam that meant no alcohol for the next three years.

"I'll be nineteen soon." Dean replied in an equally pissed off grumble.

"Doesn't matter. I'm still not buying you anything alcoholic until you're 21 or dying. I'll get you coffee or something."

"Coke."

"Fine, I'll get you coke." Sam grabbed the keys and walked out of the motel room. He got in the car and sighed.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to dealing with Dean, he'd had 15 years of practice after all, it was just that this older, more aware version of Dean was something entirely new. He'd read somewhere that people's personalities developed heavily in their high school years. The three years that Sam had missed entirely. He wasn't used to Dean, he wasn't used to anything involving his brother anymore. His taste for alcohol was something entirely new to Sam. When they'd been little John Winchester hadn't exactly been father of the year, but he'd at least kept a lock on the liquor cabinet so to speak. He hadn't let them drink any more than a taste. There'd been one time for the both of them. When Sam had been eighteen John had let him have his second beer (their first for the both of them had been when Dean was 8 and Sam was 12 by a hunter friend of their Dad's named Fred Jones), the first to their father's knowledge. That same year, about a month later, Dean had been mauled by a black dog. He'd been given a bottle of Johnny Walker and told to hold still while Sam and their father had patched him up. Sam had protested for a hospital the whole way back to the motel, but John hadn't been having any of it. The next morning Dean had woken up with a wicked hangover and an ass load of pain. Sam had made the decision that day that he was leaving for college as soon as he was able. He'd felt bad, but he couldn't have stayed with that constant sense of fear that one morning they'd go on a hunt and come back with one less Winchester. He'd worried in college sure, but after a while his family had slipped to the back of his mind and he'd been able to enjoy his life. Now, however, he felt guilty. What if he'd gotten a call from a hospital one day and they'd told him his father was dead? Or Dean?

Sam shivered at the thought and pulled into the town diner's parking lot. It was called Marcy's. It was small and about as 70s as it could get, but it had a nice atmosphere and great food. Sam ordered a salad, a cheeseburger with extra onions, a bottle of water and a coke. He debated before ordering a slice of apple pie as well. He grabbed the food and took off back for the motel. When he got back Dean was still immersed in the same book, but was a good chunk farther. Sam suddenly remembered the EMF. Dean was seriously smart, but he was about as open about it as a clam.

"You ganna come eat?" Sam asked as Dean had yet to move.

"Probably not." Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Dean come here and eat before I shove this burger down your throat." Dean sighed and closed the book.

"Fine." He trudged over to the table and sat down in front of the burger and coke. They ate in silence for a while, before Sam decided to talk.

"Can I see your EMF?" Dean shot him a glare, but his eyes were more wary than anything.

"Ok." Dean wiped his hands and reached into his duffle to pull out the EMF. He handed it to Sam and then immediately went back to his burger. Sam scanned the EMF with interest. He had no idea how to do any of what Dean had done, but he was still very impressed by the ingenuity. The EMF looked like a busted up Walkman so it wouldn't draw attention, but apparently it worked like a charm too. Sam smiled. He was really and truly proud of his little brother.

"This is really amazing Dean." Sam said aloud. Dean looked up from his burger with confusion written all over his face. It made Sam's heart hurt.

"What?"

"This, the EMF, it's really impressive."

"Really?" Sam tried to keep the pity out of his eyes. The fact that Dean was so shocked to receive any praise for something that was so complicated and impressive was heart wrenching.

"Yeah, really. Seriously, it takes skill to take something apart and build something else from it. Something that works. I'm proud of you Dean." Dean truly looked like he'd just won a million dollars. His eyes lit up, and a smile split his face. An honest to God smile, like the one Sam had seen back in the warehouse. A smile Sam wanted to see more often.

"Thanks Sam." Dean muttered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Sam smiled back at him.

"You're welcome Dean. That reminds me, I got this for you." Sam grabbed the bag from the diner and pulled out the pie. Dean's happiness seemed to double and for a moment Sam forgot it all. Forgot Dean's abandonment, forgot college, forgot Jessica and their Dad and Mary, forgot the demon killing people by crashing planes, forgot everything except that look of pure unadulterated happiness. His big brother had just praised his work and he'd gotten a slice of pie and that was all it took to give Dean the look of the happiest man on Earth. It was such a simple thing but it obviously meant the world to Dean.

Sam let him finish his pie and when Dean was done he went back to the book he'd been absorbed in earlier, the happy smile still present on his young face.

It was another hour and a half before Sam found what he was looking for.

"So every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu; you name it." He started.

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." Dean reminded him.

"Well that's not exactly true. You see according to Japanese beliefs certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes another causes disease."

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean asked, a skeptical look on his face. Sam shrugged and Dean sighed. They both knew it was the best answer they were likely to get.

"All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" Dean asked, walking over to the table again. Sam glanced back at the computer screen.

"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam asked, still studying the screen. Dean scoffed and turned around.

"What?" Sam asked finally looking up at his little brother. Dean turned back around, his hand running through his sandy blonde hair.

"I don't know man, this isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything- just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. I just… I wish Dad was here." Dean looked at the ground and Sam's heart broke for his little brother. He knew how Dean was feeling. He was feeling helpless, like he wasn't ready for something that big. Neither of the brothers had ever tangled with a demon before, at least not to Sam's knowledge. That was one thing their father hadn't let them near. Now Dean was freaked out because it was their first hunt with a demon and their Dad wasn't there. All of Sam's instincts were telling him to take Dean and high tail it out of the state, and not come back until their Dad was at their side.

"Yeah, me too."

Dean's phone started to ring and when he picked up it was Jerry. Sam listened to Dean's end of the conversation with growing trepidation. Finally Dean hung up with an intense frown on his face.

"Another crash?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Where?"

"Nazareth." Sam wanted to laugh at the irony, because a demon crashing a plane in Nazareth? That was just a little too much.

SPN

They drove to the crash and Sam cut off a piece of the plane where there was yellow dust. They then headed back to Jerry's office and discovered that yes, it was sulfur. Sam researched the newest crash and the other crash while Dean and Jerry worked with the sulfur, and discovered that both planes went down 40 minutes into flight. Obviously. The number 40 did mean death after all. Sam had then looked at the records and there had been six plane crashes in the last decade that had crashed 40 minutes in. The only difference between those crashes and flight 2485? There had been no survivors, on flight 2485 there had been seven. Dean's train of thought confirmed Sam's. The demon was going after all the survivors.

As they left Jerry's office Sam called the survivors and gave each of them a fake survey. Five of the six living survivors had no intention of flying any time soon, the only one who was planning on flying again was Amanda Walker, a flight attendant. They had a five or six hour drive ahead of them if they wanted to make it to where Amanda's flight was leaving from. Sam was sure they'd never make it, but Dean floored the Impala and they made it in just over 4 hours, just in time.

They ran into the airport and scanned the flight schedule. Amanda's flight was boarding in 30 minutes. Dean found the nearest phone and called Amanda. He pretended to be what appeared to Sam to be her ex-boyfriend's friend, but it didn't stop her from flying.

"Dammit! So close." Dean snapped. Sam saw only one option left. They had to get on the plane and keep it from crashing however they could. Which meant exercising the demon in the middle of the plane. It wasn't a good plan by any means, but it was the only one they had left.

"All right. It's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane." Sam said. Dean stared at him for a second, looking completely flustered. He held up his hand.

"Now just hold on a second." Dean said, his green eyes seeming impossibly huge.

"Dean, that plane is leaving with over 100 passengers on board, and if we're right that plane is going to crash."

"I know." Dean said, his eyes wide and distressed. Sam still wasn't picking up on his brother's obvious distress.

"Well okay, then we're getting on the plane. We need to find that demon and exercise it. Look, I'll get the tickets, you just go get whatever you can out of the trunk; whatever will make it through security. Meet me back here in five minutes." Sam said. He was about to take off, but Dean still hadn't moved.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, now slightly worried by Dean's resistance.

"No, not really." Sam's brain immediately started working triple time. Something was wrong with his little brother, something he hadn't noticed. He mentally started going back through that day to try and figure out what had happened. Was Dean hurt? Did he see something? Sam's brain worked over time to figure it out while his mouth kept talking.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked; his voice soaked with worry.

"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…" Dean trailed off and motioned towards the airport.

"Flying?" Sam asked in complete disbelief.

"It's never really been an issue until now!" Dean snapped, but his voice wavered and his eyes were fearful.

"You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere Sam?" Dean shout-whispered. Sam stared at his little brother in disbelief. There were two thoughts blaring out in big neon lights in his brain. The first one was; how the hell are we going to do this? The second was; how did I not know that? The second of the two was what was really getting to Sam. Dean was seemingly scared of nothing. Not ghosts, werewolves, demons, nothing. There were dozens of things that went bump in the night that Dean faced nearly every day with a smile on his face and a shotgun in his hand, but this? How did Sam not know the one thing his little brother was scared of? How could he not? He'd looked after Dean for fifteen years and he knew a lot about Dean. He knew how Dean may not ask for it but he always liked his burgers with extra onions. He knew what Dean's first hunt was and could point out the scar he'd gotten from it even though it was eight years ago. Sam had thought he knew a lot about his little brother, but with this revelation he realized he knew nothing, nothing of importance anyway. He'd come on this hunt with no idea that flying scared the shit out of Dean, and now with 25 minutes to go he was faced with a scared shitless little brother, and a demon about to crash a plane. Sam realized that it was a really bad time for an epiphany, but he had one right then and there. He needed to learn more about Dean. Of course he'd been meaning to, but now his lack of knowledge about his little brother was actually causing a massive problem with the hunt. If he'd known beforehand he could have planned for something like this. He could have planned out this worst case scenario and saved his little brother the fear that was no doubt plaguing him at the prospect of having to get on that plane.

Instead Sam could only think of a half-assed last second back up plan that Dean totally wouldn't go for.

"All right. Uh… I'll go."

"What?"

"I'll do this one on my own." Sam realized he couldn't have come up with a stupider plan. Yeah sure, face a demon for the first time ever, alone, with no backup, 40,000 feet up in the air in a metal death trap that he knew for a fact was going to crash. It was probably his worst idea to date.

"What are you nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's going to crash!"

"Look Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one by myself. I'm not seeing a third option here." Sam leaned down so he was eye level with Dean. Dean's eyes were still wide and distressed, but Sam knew he would never let him do it alone. Sam felt horrible for putting Dean through this kind of fear. It was obvious how scared Dean was. Dean admitting to being afraid was bad. It meant he was scared shitless. It meant he was well and truly terrified.

"Come on! Really? Man." Dean grumbled, his voice faltering. He turned around and stalked back to the car, but Sam knew he was just going to get things that would make it past security. Sam went to go buy tickets, and they met back at the phone in five minutes on the dot. The whole way through security Dean was so nervous he was practically shaking. An elderly woman asked him if he was all right and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Sorry ma'am, he just doesn't like flying." Sam said as he grabbed Dean's arms to try and calm him down. Dean swallowed hard, but this time the physical contact didn't seem to be helping him at all. It was another reason Sam knew it was bad.

"Oh you poor dear. How longs your flight?" She asked. Amanda's full flight was about six hours long, the flight was only going to be 40 minutes if the plane crashed, but if Sam and Dean could save it it'd be only an hour and twenty minutes as the plane would fly back to the nearest airport, which, forty minutes in, would be the airport it left from.

"Should be about six hours." Sam replied. The woman frowned in sympathy and patted Dean's arm.

"It'll be all right dear, just take a nap. That'll shave off a few hours." Dean didn't respond, just nodded. The woman walked away with sympathy in her eyes and Sam gripped Dean's shoulders.

"Calm down Dean, we're not even on the plane yet." Dean nodded and once again didn't respond.

It got worse on the plane.

When they first boarded Dean lowered himself into the seat carefully, his jaw clenched and his eyes set. He pulled out the safety card and started scanning it. Sam looked at Dean sympathetically as the plane started to roll down the runway.

"Just try to relax."

"Just try to shut up."

Sam reigned in a smile.

Dean was as still as he could possibly get himself and as tense as Sam thought was physically possible for a human being the whole time the plane was on the runway. When it finally lifted off Dean shuddered and closed his eyes. They shot open again when the wheels started to retract. Sam smiled a little, Dean looked ridiculous.

Dean started humming almost immediately and Sam had to listen to the tune for a minute to figure out what it was.

"Are you humming Metallica?" He asked.

"Calms me down." Dean replied and instantly went back to humming. Sam scoffed; it was the weirdest thing he'd ever heard.

"Look man, I get that you're nervous all right? But you gatta stay focused."

"Okay." Dean nodded several times.

"I mean, we've got 32 minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever its possessing anyway, and preform a full on exorcism."

"Yeah on a crowded plane, that's ganna be easy."

"Just take it one step at a time, all right?" Sam tried to calm his brother down. He understood that Dean was scared out of his mind, he did, but that didn't change the fact that the real danger was a human being with black eyes and a taste for murder. If he was being honest Dean was doing a great job so far, but it had only been eight minutes.

"Now, who is it possessing?" Sam asked.

"It's usually going to be somebody with a weakness of some sort. You know a chink in the armor the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction, or some sort of emotional distress." Dean looked around; probably looking for Amanda. Sam however was mulling over what Dean had said. At the moment Dean and emotional distress went hand in hand. Sam grimaced. Dean was doing okay, but as soon as he let go of the fragile hold he had on his fear the demon could possess him in an instant. Then they would really be screwed.

"Well this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her I'd be pretty messed up." Sam said when Dean turned back to look at him. Dean nodded. He'd probably been thinking it too. In fact Sam was sure that was how the demon had crashed the other planes. The wife of the first guy to be possessed had told Sam and Dean that her husband had been terrified to fly. His fear (much like Dean's- though Sam was trying to ignore that) had been the chink in his armor that the demon had wormed through. Chuck Lambert, Jerry's pilot friend, had been flying the plane for the first time since he crashed flight 2485. He'd probably been nervous as hell, even if the plane he'd had to fly had been a third the size of 2485. His nerves, his fear had been how the demon had gotten in. Sam glanced at Dean one more time. Dean was really trying to keep a lid on it, and he wasn't doing a terrible job either. Sam was proud of his little brother to say the least, but he was also incredibly worried.

"Mm-hmm." Dean muttered, nodding a few times. He asked the first blonde flight attendant he saw if she was Amanda. She wasn't. They concluded that the blonde woman in the back of the plane had to be Amanda.

"All right, well that's got to be Amanda back there, so, I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state." Dean was breathing heavily. He probably hadn't even realized he was close to hyperventilating, but Sam definitely noticed.

"All right. What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.

"There's ways to test that. I brought holy water." Dean reached into his bag and pulled out a huge bottle of holy water. Sam wanted to roll his eyes. Instead he just snatched the bottle from Dean's hand and shoved it into his jacket.

"No, I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed she'll flinch in the name of God."

"Oh, nice." Dean started to get up out of the chair, but Sam stopped him.

"What?"

"Say it in Latin."

"I know."

"Okay." Dean got about a seat down when Sam stopped him again.

"Hey!"

"What?!" Dean was borderline annoyed- Sam could tell.

"In Latin it's Cristo." Dean glared at him.

"Dude I know! I'm not an idiot!" He snapped. Sam started to apologize, but Dean walked away before he could. The plane shifted and Dean stood rigid for a second before slamming a fist down on the seat next to him. Sam grimaced. He'd managed to offend and piss off Dean, and Dean was still freaking out over flying. Sam scrubbed his face with his hands; this hunt was going to end up being a lot harder than it should be. Not that it shouldn't be hard to begin with, it was a demon after all, but Dean's 'emotional distress' was going to cause some problems. Of that much Sam was sure.

He waited for five minutes before Dean practically fell back into his seat with an annoyed look on his face.

"Well she's got to be the well-adjusted person on the planet." He grumbled.

"You said Cristo, and?"

"And there's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her."

"So if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere." That was just great. Suddenly the plane shook violently. Dean gripped the side of his chair with one hand, and Sam's wrist with the other.

"Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean's voice was tense and on the edge. Sam didn't move Dean's hand, just put his own over it and looked Dean in the eyes.

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence." Sam said in his calmest most soothing voice. The voice he usually used with victims whose family or friends had died.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin four!" Sam held himself back from rolling his eyes. Dean was doing a pretty decent impression of a four year old so he shouldn't have been surprised that that was how Sam was treated him. But at the same time Sam's worry was rising. Dean was getting closer and closer to that edge. Sam could see the wild fear residing in his eyes. He secretly made a vow to never have Dean on a plane ever again.

"You need to calm down."

"Well, I'm sorry, I can't."

"Yes you can."

"Stow the touchy feely self-help yoga crap, it's not working!" Dean snapped. Sam leaned down until he was right in Dean's face. His tone grew serious as he said, "Listen to me, if you panic you're wide open to demonic possession so you need to calm yourself down right now."

Dean's eyes were wide, but he swallowed hard and exhaled slowly. His whole body seemed to deflate and he sunk down in his chair. He let Sam's wrist go and looked away. Sam removed his hand and tried not to sigh in relief.

"Good." Sam scanned Dean once more. He'd stopped his travel down the road to hyperventilation, but he wasn't looking at Sam. Sam wanted desperately to talk to Dean about his fear of flying, but decided the demon was the most pressing matter right then.

"Now I found on exorcism in here that I think is going to work; the ritual romono." Sam went on to explain the different parts of the exorcism. The part that made the demon corporeal and the part that sent it back to hell – permanently.

The next item on their to do list was finding the demon. Dean reached down into his back and pulled out the Walkman/EMF. He got up and started moving up and down the aisles all the while scanning the seats occupants as discretely as possible.

When Dean had scanned all the isles Sam looked over the occupants. Most of them were normal looking, bored, tired, etcetera. There was one older man who had his back toward the window who gave Dean a very creepy and very suggestive smile. Sam immediately grabbed Dean's shoulder and moved him forward. He glared at the man, who in turn just kept staring at Dean. Sam put himself firmly in between the man's line of sight and Dean and glared at him again. Finally the man rolled his eyes then closed them. Sam had a fleeting thought that maybe the creep was their demon, but Dean had already scanned him, and sadly he was just a creep.

When Dean was finally at the front of the plane with no passengers left to scan Sam came up behind him and clamped an arm down on his shoulder. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Man, don't do that." He said tensely. The stress of the plane and the demon was getting to him.

"Dean, we've got 15 minutes left. We have to have missed somebody." Sam replied; his voice just as tense.

"Maybe the thing's just not on the plane." Dean tried, though his expression told Sam he didn't really believe that. Sam still gave him and incredulous look.

"You believe that?"

"Well I will if you will." Dean replied without missing a beat. Sam just shook his head and turned back to look at the passengers, they had to have missed somebody. Bright red lights suddenly caught Dean's vision, and a rapid beeping told them that the EMF had just picked up the demon. Dean looked up cautiously to see the copilot walk out of the bathroom and into range of the EMF.

"What, what is it?" Sam asked, having just noticed Dean's attention glued to the copilot.

"Cristo." Dean muttered. Sam looked where Dean was looking just in time to notice the copilot's eyes turn completely black. Sam's jaw tensed. Every big brother instinct he'd ever had instilled in him since he was 4 years old suddenly sprang to life; and they were telling him to grab Dean and get the hell away from that thing. Nothing had ever been stronger for Sam. There was a feeling in the air, just from being around it. A feeling of foreboding that set Sam's teeth on edge. He wanted desperately to grab Dean and shove him behind him.

When the copilot shut the door to the cockpit behind him Sam grabbed Dean's wrist and pushed him in front of him. He then led Dean down the aisles, glared at the pervert once more when his eyes fallowed Dean, and then headed back for the seats.

"Sam, we gatta tell Amanda." Dean turned around to look at him. Sam sighed, he'd forgotten there was a reason they were on the plane in the first place. He kept going, his hand on Dean's shoulder the whole way, even though Dean had tried in vain to shake him off several times.

"She's never going to believe us." Sam mused aloud.

"Twelve minutes dude." Dean reminded him. Sam exhaled sharply. The hunt was starting to look like it had the makings of a close call, and Sam didn't like that at all.

They made it to the back of the plane where Dean quickly and bluntly told Amanda that there was something wrong with the plane. It took a minute to convince her, but eventually she conceded. She said there'd been a man on flight 2485 with eyes that were strange. Sam and Dean immediately knew they'd been black. They convinced Amanda to bring the copilot to the back of the plane. She grudgingly agreed and went to get him. They watched her talk to the copilot and when he finally shut the door behind him they started to pull out everything they'd need for the ritual; holy water and John's journal.

"Dean, take down the demon, but don't get yourself too much in its way all right?" Sam asked quickly before Amanda and the copilot showed up. Dean glanced at Sam and smirked.

"Quit worrying Sammy, I'll be fine." Sam wasn't reassured in the slightest.

As soon as the copilot walked in Dean punched him in the face and pinned him down. He put duct tape over his mouth. Amanda, as civilians usually did, started freaking out.

"What the hell are you doing? You said you were just going to talk to him!"

"We are going to talk to him!" Dean snapped back, as he tried his best to pin down the bigger, bulkier man who also happened to have a demon inside him. Sam helped Dean out by pouring holy water all over the man's chest. It sizzled and burned holes in both fabric and skin. The wholes quickly bubbled up and started pouring steam. It was cringe worthy, but Sam didn't have any time to spare for sympathy.

"Oh my God! What's wrong with him?!" Amanda shouted. Dean didn't move, so Sam just told her to watch the curtain. It took precious time Sam didn't have to calm her down enough to get her to go, but once she did Sam returned his entire focus to the demon Dean was currently punching in the face.

"Hurry up Sam, I don't know how much longer I can hold him." Dean grunted out. Dean was by no means a small guy. He was six feet tall, muscled from years of training, but he was also still only a teenager. He was still lean and shorter and less thick than the man he was trying to pin down. Not to mention he didn't have the added bonus of a demon hyping up his strength and stamina. Sam recognized that if he didn't hurry his baby brother was in for a world of hurt. Sam poured more holy water on the man and started the incantation. He was half way through the incantation when the demon knocked the holy water out of Sam's hand. The demon shoved Dean into the wall, a lot harder than was probably necessary, and then shoved Sam away. Sam's head hit wall. He was dazed for a moment, but when his vision cleared he saw Dean straddling the man once more, trying as hard as he could to pin the possessed man down under him. He wasn't doing so well, but Sam had to commemorate his stamina. Sam immediately started the exorcism again, and when Dean got shoved into a wall again, he didn't stop.

The demon ripped off the tape and shouted at Sam, "I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now she's burning!" And suddenly Sam couldn't move, he was completely frozen, but he thanked God that Dean could. Dean sloppily got up and punched the demon again. He regained his place on top of the demon, and held it down to the best of his ability.

"Sam!" He snapped. Sam immediately started the exorcism again. He finished the last few lines, then threw the book down and helped Dean hold down the demon. Together their combined strength could have pinned him down, but it didn't matter. Black smoke poured from the copilot's mouth as the demon was expelled from his body. When the demon was gone, the copilot slumped under Dean, he was unconscious. The black smoke slipped into the air vent, and Sam knew they were out of time.

"Where'd he go?" Dean asked, his unfocused eyes staring at the air vent.

"He's in the plane. We've got to finish this." Sam turned around, but the journal was gone. The demon had kicked it out of the room. Immediately the plane dropped in altitude; they were going to crash. Sam dove through the curtain and searched the ground for the journal, he spotted it under a seat a little ways away. Everybody was screaming and struggling in their seats. Papers and books and other possessions were flying everywhere. Sam tried to block everything out, even when he heard Dean start to scream. He didn't think about Dean; he couldn't. His sole thought was getting the journal back in his hands, and finishing the exorcism. He grabbed the journal, ripped open the page and started shouting the Latin exorcism.

When he finished the last line an electric shock went through the plane and everything stopped at once. The engine stabilized as the pilot regained control of the plane and leveled it, people stopped screaming, and things stopped flying all over the place. Sam stood up carefully and looked around. Nobody seemed to be hurt. He turned back to look at the curtain, but noticed Dean wasn't there. Sam was immediately alarmed. He ripped back the curtain and looked for Dean. Dean was pinned to a corner of the small room. His arms and legs were spread wide, and the look in his wide green eyes was one of complete and utter terror. As soon as Sam entered the room however he could see his younger brother's walls come down, keeping the fear from showing. Sam went to his brother anyway. He gripped Dean's shoulders and looked him over. Dean, like Sam, hadn't been in a seat when the plane had dropped but he also hadn't been on the floor with seat's to hold onto, like Sam, which meant he'd probably been thrown around the room and had been slammed into more than a couple walls. Dean's eyes were glazed, and he was blinking hard, but Sam was pretty sure he wasn't concussed. There weren't any bruises on his face, but Sam knew there'd be some on his torso. He'd seen the demon throw Dean into wall three times, add to that the number of times the plane had probably knocked him around and Sam was sure Dean's back and sides had some bruising at least. Sam checked Dean's head next. As he'd suspected there was a sizable bump on the back of Dean's head, but at least it wasn't bleeding. Once Sam was satisfied that Dean would survive the rest of the ride back to the airport he let go of Dean.

"Come on, let's get back to our seats." Dean nodded solemnly and followed Sam back to their seats. Sam didn't care what order they were sitting in before, he just shoved Dean into the seat closer to the window and Sam sat in the one on the isle, protecting Dean from everyone and everything else on that plane.

"Everybody, this is your pilot speaking, we have stabilized the engines and are on route to the closest airport, which would be the one we left from. We are sorry for the inconvenience, but the engines have been stabilized and this plane will not be crashing any time soon." Sam sighed and looked at Dean. He was breathing shallowly and quickly. Sam recognized the early signs of a panic attack when he saw one. He immediately held Dean and started rubbing his shoulder.

"Calm down Dean, its okay. It's all right. Just breathe Dean. I've got you little brother, it'll be okay. We stopped the demon, the plane isn't going to crash, got it? You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you." Sam continued on the soothing mantra of calming words until Dean was breathing right again. Dean didn't say anything for a while and Sam resigned himself to reading John's journal again. He was reviewing all of the information on demon's and the exorcism he'd just preformed. Finally Dean spoke up.

"Sorry."

"What?"

"I said 'm sorry."

Sam stared at Dean for a minute. He had no idea why Dean was apologizing for being scared of something.

"Why?" Dean looked down at his lap; his hands were once again fiddling in that same nervous fashion Sam had started to grow accustomed to.

"Because I freaked out. It was probably pretty inconvenient considering the circumstances." Dean muttered to his hands. Sam just stared back at Dean. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Dean's fear was nothing to be sorry for; if anything it should be Sam apologizing to Dean for putting him in that situation in the first place.

"It's all right Dean. You shouldn't have had to be on this stupid plane in the first place. I should have known you're scared to fly." Sam replied. Dean looked at him with weary eyes.

"It's not your fault Sam, you didn't know."

"I know, that's my point. How come I didn't know? How long have you been scared to fly?" Sam asked. Dean seemed to mull it over. It took him a few minutes to respond.

"I'm not sure how long I've been afraid to fly honestly. I've never really been a fan of heights in general, but the flying thing, that's new I guess. I mean I'd never been on a plane until after you left." Dean seemed caught in the past suddenly, and Sam saw him shiver. Dean opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the pilot coming back on the radio telling them they'd be landing in just under 10 minutes.

"I'll tell you later." Dean said instead.

SPN

When they got back to the airport the police wanted to check them over. Sam took one look at Dean and knew that wasn't going to work. They pretended to be fine and were about to leave when Amanda mouthed thank you to them. They nodded to her and turned to leave. Now that they were on solid ground and not having to worry about Dean's fear of flying or any murderous demons Sam's mind drifted to what the demon had said about Jessica. He'd known she'd burned. He'd known how she'd died. Sam was unnerved to say the least.

"Let's get out of here." Dean said, the tension seeming to leak from his body more and more with every step they took away from Gate 13.

"You okay?" Dean asked. Sam knew it was his way of repayment for the mini counselor session on the plane (a conversation Sam still wasn't finished with). Sam also knew he was talking about what the demon had said about Jessica. Sam stopped walking and turned to Dean.

"Dean, it knew about Jessica."

"Sam these things, they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was." Dean's eyes were earnest, but he sounded a little unsure. Sam couldn't blame him, he was still unsure. Very unsure.

"Yeah." Sam saw Dean was suddenly hesitant. He wanted to leave, but he wasn't sure whether or not Sam wanted to keep talking.

"Come on. Let's get out of here." Sam said. He grasped Dean's shoulder firmly and steered him towards the exit. He let go and Dean started walking out. Sam scanned the airport one last time before following Dean out.

SPN

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed. Your Dad's ganna be real proud." Jerry said solemnly. He shook Sam's hand firmly and Sam gave him a half smile.

"We'll see you around Jerry." Sam replied. Jerry then shook hands with Dean. They'd said their goodbyes and were about to leave when Dean turned back.

"You know Jerry,"

"Yeah?"

"I meant to ask, how did you get my cell phone number anyway? I've only had it for like six months."

"Your Dad gave it to me." Both brothers went shock still at the words. Sam immediately questioned Jerry.

"What? When did you talk to him?" He asked.

"I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call Dean. Thanks again guys." Then Jerry turned around and walked away. Sam turned to face Dean. Dean's face was a stoic mask void of all emotion. Sam found it a little disturbing.

The next thing they did was drive away from the airport in silence. Then they stopped the car in the middle of the road, and Dean took out his phone. They sat on the Impala's trunk and Dean dialed John's number.

"This doesn't make any sense man. I've called Dad's number like 50 times. It's been out of service." Sam said once Dean started typing. Dean ignored him and held the phone up to his ear anyway. After a second he leaned over and Sam leaned in. Then he heard it; the voicemail.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean; 785-555-0179. He can help."

John Winchester's voice filtered through the speakers and it pissed Sam the hell off. The first time he'd heard his father's voice in 3 years had been in a voicemail saying that if someone was in need of help to call Dean. It completely neglected to say anything about Sam. Sam knew his anger about this was irrational and juvenile, but he couldn't help it. Even the mention of John Winchester pissed him off these days. Actually hearing the man just made him plain and simple angry as hell.

His jaw tensed and after a few seconds he got off the car and walked over to the passenger side door. He opened the door, got in the Impala, and slammed the door behind him. Dean got in a few seconds later. He started to the car and they drove in silence toward the motel they'd been staying at. As soon as they got to their room Dean went to the bathroom and shut the door. Sam didn't think anything of it. His mind was otherwise occupied with things like John's voicemail and what the demon had said about Jess. It was so occupied that it wasn't until 30 minutes later that he realized Dean had been in the bathroom way too long. In fact Sam had completely packed their stuff before he realized Dean still had yet to come out of the bathroom. Instantly he was worried. He went to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

"Dean, you all right?" He waited for a moment for Dean's reply. When it came it was breathy and in pain.

"Yeah Sam, I'm good." Sam didn't believe that for a second. He opened the door to find Dean shirtless and standing in front of the mirror trying to wrap his chest. There was pain written in the lines on his forehead, and the wrapping was sloppy.

"C'mon Sammy, I know I look good an' all, but privacy's still a thing you know." Sam sighed.

"Dammit Dean, why didn't you tell me? Cracked or broken?" He asked, immediately taking the bandages from Dean and unwrapping his poorly wrapped ribs.

"Just cracked. It's only a couple, I'll be fine." Sam grimaced. There was a colorful mosaic of bruising on Dean's torso. He seemed to be just one big bruise. Sam started to wrap the ribs properly. He wrapped them as tightly as he dared, and only stopped with Dean's shout of pain.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked again. Dean didn't look at him.

"I didn't want to make you worry. You already have enough to deal with, I didn't want you to have to worry about something else. Besides, it doesn't matter, it's not even that bad. Sam frowned. If that was Dean's version of 'not even bad' then he did not want to see Dean's version of 'bad'. Besides, what was with the 'it doesn't matter' shit? Sam seriously didn't know whether to punch Dean in the mouth or John. Why did Dean keep downplaying injuries? Surely he hadn't been that way three years ago? Had he?

"Dean, don't say that. Of course it matters. You're my little brother, I need to know when you're hurt. It's my job to take care of you Dean. If you get hurt that's on me, and I need to fix it. Next time you're hurt, you tell me, understand?" Dean nodded hesitantly. "And another thing, it doesn't matter what's going on, I will always have time for you, all right little brother? Always." Dean nodded again, less hesitant, but still reserved.

"Got it. Thanks Sam." Sam smiled.

"You're welcome Dean." He finished wrapping Dean's ribs with a twinge of anger. Anger at himself of course. How could he have not remembered Dean was hurt? He'd been so attentive lately, and he just forgot the fact that Dean had been thrown into several walls several times over the course of the hunt. He couldn't believe Dean had held on like that all the way back. He'd had cracked ribs on the return trip. That entire bumpy flight back and the even worse landing. Not to mention the drive back to the motel. Then he'd tried for half an hour to wrap the cracked ribs and hadn't been able to do it. He'd probably been in so much pain for ignoring the ribs for over two hours that he couldn't even do it. Sam wanted to punch himself multiple times. Dean was his little brother, his responsibility. He was supposed to know when Dean was hurt dammit. Sam silently swore never to let it happen again.

"All right, you're good. Want me to drive so you can get some rest?" He asked. Dean looked utterly relieved.

"Sure. But one thing?"

"What?" Dean pulled on his shirt and grinned at Sam.

"You scratch my baby and there's ganna be hell to pay."

When he finally walked out of the bathroom Sam was still laughing.

SPN

When they were finally back in the car an on their way out of the state Sam turned to Dean, who was listing in the passenger seat. He had one question before Dean went to sleep.

"Dean, why are you scared of flying?" He asked innocently enough. Dean opened his eyes and looked out the window for a little bit. Then he turned to face Sam.

"I think it was a year and a half after you left. Dad wanted me to go to Georgia to help Caleb out with a hunt. You remember Caleb right?" Sam nodded. "Right, well, this hunt, it was a poltergeist too. It was one dangerous son of a bitch. Dad was laid up and couldn't go. He was there for two weeks, longest I'd seen him since you left. So anyway Caleb and I would have to deal with it by ourselves. Problem was Dad and I were in Arizona at the time, and Caleb was literally on the other side of the country with no one else who could help and a pissed off ghost that needed to be killed ASAP. Dad said I'd have to fly over. It wasn't too long. Six or seven hour flight I think. But I was alone and I'd never ridden a plane before, and I figured out about ten seconds after the plane started to move that I was scared shitless. I made it to Caleb in time and we took out the thing, but that plane ride was horrible. I was by the window seat and the lady next to me had to have it open. Something with her eyes, I don't know. But I kept looking out the window and I kept seeing nothing but air and clouds. I think I threw up at least twice on that plane. When I finally landed Caleb and I took care of the thing and then I had to fly back 'cause Dad wanted me back in time for the beginning of the school week. The flight back wasn't as bad because I got the aisle seat, but it still sucked major ass." Dean finished his story with a shiver. Sam grimaced.

"Did Dad know you were afraid to fly?" Dean shook his head.

"No, I mean, not even I knew at first. I did call to tell him that flying freaked me out before I made the return trip. He told me to suck it up and get on the plane. I argued with him, but it was pointless, you know how he his." Sam stared at Dean.

"You argued with him?" Dean suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Well yeah, I was scared shitless of that thing." Sam's frown deepened. If Dean argued with the all mighty John Winchester over something, then it definitely scared the crap out of him. Sam suddenly felt ten times guiltier than he had five minutes ago.

"That sounds pretty sucky. I can't believe Dad didn't go with you. You were still a minor though. Aren't you required to have a guardian of some kind?" Sam asked. Dean nodded.

"Yeah you're supposed to if you're a minor, but Dad didn't want to pay for it so I got a fake ID that said I was eighteen and went on it alone." Sam wanted to punch John in the face, again (real shocker there). Once again Dean had been forced to do something alone. It wasn't as bad as half of the things Sam had heard about or just assumed about his little brother's life, but it was bad in its own right. Dean was still a kid who'd been sent on a dangerous, life threatening hunt across the country from his father with only a man they sort of knew but trusted to back him up. Sam hated how Dean had been raised while he was gone. He shook his head. Raised wasn't the right word. During those three years Dean had raised himself. He'd fed himself when he could, he'd paid his own rent, he'd gotten himself to school. He'd been living alone since he was fifteen, and it wasn't right. Not in any way.

Sam was pissed as hell about that, but he was also pissed at this new discrepancy on John Winchester's not so great paternal resume. John had sent Dean in a plane across the country. A plane; Dean's one and only fear. It was not only pretty horrible parenting, but it was also just mean. There were no other words for it. Of course at the time no one had known Dean was scared of flying, at least not until the return trip. But once John knew his son was scared he should have let him stay away from the plane and just had Caleb drive Dean back, but of course he didn't do that. Sam sighed.

"Man I'm so sorry you had to be on that plane. I'm also sorry I didn't know. I know you say it doesn't matter, but I'm your older brother Dean. I should have known. It's my job to look after you and I didn't do that. I'm really sorry Dean." Sam looked at Dean with earnest eyes. He knew Dean would forgive him, and it was slightly infuriating to know that whatever he did, his little brother would forgive him, but it was also nice. Especially when Dean gave him that thousand watt smile like he was right then and said,

"It's all right Sammy. I'm good." Sam smiled slightly. He didn't know what he did to have Dean in his life, but Sam knew he didn't deserve him.

SPN

Guys, I am so sorry this one took forever. Originally I had excuses, like I started softball then got stomach flu (which I did and it was horrible), but this past week I've just been a lazy bum. So I decided to sit down and finish this chapter, and thank God I did. Also, I plan on getting at least one more chapter done before Christmas, then having a little break for maybe two weeks tops, and then posting another chapter. If all goes well that should work out.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!