Dean stood at the bar, not even noticing when somebody pushed in front of him with a large order of drinks.

Sam was happy.

He, the big brother, was unhappy.

This was really a no-brainer.

Dean had to remind himself that Sam was no longer a little boy. No longer that ankle-biter of a kid who he would carry home after a late night hunt. The boy he would wait to fall to sleep at night to 'keep watch for monsters'. The toddler who would cling on to his hand, ignoring his fathers out-stretched one, whenever they stepped outside.

He wasn't his Sammy anymore.

Dean couldn't even face talking to Sam about the true reason he had come down to see his brother. It all sounded so selfish now.

He hadn't been lying when he had told Sam that he had been tempted to join him on his 'preppy' bar-crawls. A few times he had made to leave the car, surprise his little brother, who looked drunk enough to embrace his brother and not ask questions, at least not until the hangover made an appearance the next day. Then he would look down at his clothes; his torn jeans, his blood-stained jacket...Sam and his new-found friends, despite their drunken state, looked polished and preened. He couldn't deny his heart ached when he saw Sam look so happy, practically dancing and jumping around like a pony. His heart ached because he wasn't part of, or reason for, that happiness.

Sam didn't need him. Not anymore.

Dean had had every intention of telling Sam that he would have to leave Jessica. Not out of cruelty but because people in their line of work simply couldn't have more emotional attachments than absolutely possible. Dean had noticed Jessica more and more and felt hurt for his younger brother that the relationship couldn't possibly last. It hadn't taken long to find out Jessica's background. She seemed to come from a pretty mundane upbringing...best not to let her get sucked up into the Winchester's way of life...but it looked as though Sam had no intention of allowing that to happen. Or return to it himself.

Dean ordered two more pints and handed over the cash. Dean felt almost like the younger brother. After all, Dean had come with every intention that his brother would be occupying the passenger seat on the way home. Then things could go back to reality.

The only problem was that it was his reality. No longer Sam's.

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