Later, when Dean went to bed he couldn't sleep. The whole time he had to think about what Cas had said. Why couldn't everything be fine now? Hadn't they had enough problems to get along. Only last year they had saved the world... And... the best thing god had to do was playing with them again. Why always them? In his mind he could hear Castiel's answer: "Because you have already proven that you're able to." Saving the world is one thing, but chosoing between humanity and Sammy was a bit harder. There were two possibilities: One: Sam regains his memory, saves the world and everything's fine. Two: Sam stays like this, the world's going down the tubes everyone dies, Amen. If he thought about the whole thing like this, possibility one seemed better, but he wasn't willing to let his brother die. Even if it saves the world, he swore to protect his little brother. And he wasn't going to break that promise. He wouldn't tell Sam anything about it. For now, it was enough to keep Sam away from his memories and to carry on. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. The only possibility was to hope, god decided to let someone else save the world and let them finally life in peace:
When Dean woke up the next morning, Sam was already up. His bed was made and he wasn't in the room, so he probably had gone downstairs already. Dean didn't want to get up. It was pretty late yesterday and the thing with Cas hadn't contributed much for a good rest. But then his stomach grumbled. "No!", he moaned and buried his nose in the pillow. He yawned and decided to get it on. When sat up his head felt like it exploded. Maybe he and Bobby had drunken a bit too much yesterday, after Cas had disappeared. So he crawled out of his bed, stretched his stiff muscles and went straight to the bathroom for taking a hot shower.
It was still dark outside and his brother was still asleep when Sam woke up. He had had some kind of a nightmare, but luckily he didn't remember what it was about. But even though he was terrified. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again, so, quietly to wake nobody, he stood up, got dressen and went downstairs into the kitchen. He was hungry like hell and Bobby had said he should feel like at home, so he made himself a sandwich. Eating it he looked around in the house. It looked quite normal. How houses of old, alone men look like. But somethings he noticed. At first in the living room, pictures on the chimney. Pictures of him and Dean, obviously recently taken. But when he looked around he also found pictures of two children. Two boys, from baby until teenage. Playing baseball in a park. The younger's first school day. In front of the house with Bobby by their side, the older working on the black car. When he saw the more recent photos he skipped a beat. He recognized Dean. And himself besides him. They looked quite happy. Suddenly a huge wave of pain exploded in his head and everything turned black.
"Dean? Why do we have to move again. Daddy know that I don't like being the new kid at school."
Dean sat directly opposite of me on the other bed at the motel room. "Me neither... But you know... Dad's job. There's no other possibility, you know that." "Yeah... I do. But... I still don't understand. What is it what Dad does?" Dean hesitated. "Um... You know Dad doesn't want me to tell you. All I can say is, that he's a real hero. And someday you'll understand." Sam sighed. "So is he at the CIA? Undercover? And we have to hide?" Dean smiled at his brothers fantasies. "It's late. Tomorrow we need to be ready when Dad's back. So.. We have to get up early. Get some rest okay? And stop asking these questions. Dad will tell you when you're old enough." "But I'm already seven. That's not as little as everybody thinks." Dean smiled again. "I know... But now off to bed." He switched the light off. "Night Sammy." "Night Dean."