-Time for some Stanford-Sam and Jess! H/C and Feelings all around. Features Sam, Jess, Dean, John with a splash of Bobby and is probably the longest thing I've ever written. Please let me know your thoughts!-

Sam didn't typically have a violent temper, so when he stormed into the apartment and promptly threw his cell phone violently at the wall, pieces scattering from the living room all the way into the hallway, Jess was both surprised and frightened. She knew that Sam was a large guy, secretive and sometimes moody, but she was pretty sure he had a gentle heart. The way he smiled at her, doted on her, listened to her...it all screamed 'awesome keeper' instead of 'scary creeper'. Still, the look of absolute rage on his face was enough to have her bracing herself out of fear.

In his defense, Sam didn't even seem to realize she was there, which was both a relief to the petite blonde but also another red flag; it meant that she wasn't the source of his anger, but it also meant that there was a side of him that she just didn't know. After the initial flare, though, Sam staggered to the sofa, falling heavily to the worn cushion and dropping his head into his hands. It was only then that the fear Jessica had briefly felt fully evaporated and was replaced with concern; something was not right with her boyfriend.

She put down the textbook she had been reading and moved to sit by him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "What's wrong, Sam?"

"It's nothing." Sam sighed, head still down. Jess kept her hand on his knee, waiting. They had only been dating for a year, but Sam Winchester could be an open book at times. She knew that if she gave him a few minutes, he'd probably spill his guts. At least, that's the way it worked when he was stressed out from finals, when he had tried to work up the nerve to ask her to move in together and when he was devastated that he had failed an exam that he spent an entire weekend staying awake studying for. She couldn't think of much else that could be wrong; they spent most of their waking time together and he had just been in class. None of their friends could have pissed him off, because they had all been in class. He had no family to call and upset him, because they weren't really close. It wasn't a day that he was scheduled to work, so it couldn't be a work issue. It had to be something minor that he was blowing out of proportion, but then again, that didn't really sound like Sam, either.

Jess resisted the urge to try and coax the information out of him, knowing she had to give the 'silent support' approach time for it to work before resorting to other methods, and after a few long minutes had passed, Sam turned his head slightly in her direction, one eye peeking out over the edge of his fingers, which were blocking the rest of his face.

"It's my brother." Sam said reluctantly, knowing he owed his girlfriend an explanation after barging in like a psychopath and leaving a dent in the wall from the impact with his Nokia, "Well, no, it's actually my father, but also my brother...it's a long story."

"I've got time." Jess said softly, using just one finger to lightly caress Sam's knee in an attempt to keep him calm and talking, "Did you call them?"

Sam laughed, though it was much more bitter than the laughter he normally had around his girlfriend, and uncovered his face, rubbing his hand over his face in the same way that his older brother often did, though he didn't even realize he was doing so. He shifted so he was leaning against the back of the sofa, his head tilted back so he was staring at the ceiling. He didn't trust himself not to get misty-eyed, and he surely didn't want to show that sort of vulnerability in front of Jessica at the moment. Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, he answered, "No, I didn't call them. That's never going to happen. My brother, he called me. He does, sometimes...not really often, but occasionally he checks in to see if I'm still alive."

"And it didn't go well?"

"No, my brother and my father are reckless idiots with a death wish." Sam retorted dryly, "They get stupid ideas and without someone there to remind them that they're not invincible, they go off half-cocked and irresponsible and one day they're going to find out the hard way that they're not immortal."

Jess raised an eyebrow, not really knowing what to make of Sam's declaration, but finding it harsh nonetheless. She leaned against him, resting her head against his side and asking, "What are they doing that's so bad that it's got you so scared?"

"I'm not scared."

Jessica remained silent, and after a few moments she heard Sam mutter, "Well, maybe a little scared…"

"You can be distant from your family and still love and worry about them, Sam." Jess reasoned, though she knew that worrying and loving his family wasn't the issue, since those feelings were practically oozing from her boyfriend at the moment, "It's okay to be scared. And it's okay to tell them that they're being reckless, if that's how you really feel, even if you aren't there to tell them in person."

"Oh, I told him." Sam said with another bitter laugh, "He wasn't too thrilled for me to provide my input where it wasn't requested, but I didn't really give him a choice." He brought an arm around Jess, feeling calmer now that she was with him. Since they had started dating, she was like his anchor in the storm, the one tangible thing that made this decision to go away to school worth it. He loved the classes, the freedom, the normalcy of it all, but she was the shiny bow on the top of the package that reminded him daily that he made the right choice by settling down and getting out of the life.

"So you two fought, then?" Jess asked, curiosity getting the better of her. Sam rarely talked about his family, but occasionally he did bring up his brother and it was obvious that they had been very close. She enjoyed hearing about him, especially seeing how important he was to Sam even if Sam didn't want to admit it, but was always hesitant to ask because of how closed off Sam was about his family.

Sam nodded, remembering the heated exchange and regretting some of the things he had said after Dean had gotten his temper ignited, "That would be putting it mildly. Dean doesn't like being told what to do, and he doesn't like it when I say I'm worried about him or something they may be doing. He doesn't like me to tell him he's reckless when he's actually being reckless and he doesn't think I get to have a say in anything they do because I left them to come here. He doesn't like my opinions about our dad, he doesn't really like any opinion I have if it isn't the same as his. He's impossible."

"He sounds just like you." Jess laughed, "I mean, absolutely just like you."

"Shut up." Sam replied, though there was no heat in his words. "I'm nothing like him, I-"

"You don't like being wrong." Jess interrupted, "You don't like when other people don't have the same opinion as you...well, sometimes. You're open minded, but when you decide you're right you stick to it and dismiss everyone else's opinion on the subject unless they provide really compelling evidence to the contrary. You are sometimes reckless and don't like being told to reign it in. You don't like people worrying over you. Shall I continue?"

"I'm not reckless." Sam huffed, sitting up slightly to look at Jessica, who was clearly trying to control her amusement at the situation, "I'm not!"

"Maybe not 'guns blazing' reckless, but reckless in your own right. You're reckless with your health at times; staying up for days at a time and living off of caffeine alone, getting in between crazy people in a bar fight? Or how about the semester you tried to take 24 hours and hold a part-time job; that was a whole different kind of reckless but still reckless."

"That's not reckless, it's necessary." Sam argued, though they both knew she had a point and had won this around. "Whatever, I'm just saying that he doesn't think before he acts and one day it's going to get him killed."

Jess was dying to ask what Sam's family was doing that Sam considered so reckless, but knew she wouldn't get a straight answer; he always seemed to evade the topic of his family unless it was on a superficial level such as today. She wondered what exactly had happened that made Sam walk away without looking back, knowing that whatever it was had hurt the young man immensely. There was no denying the pain in his eyes when his family was brought up, but Sam had always been very closed off on the subject and she wanted to respect his privacy. Instead, she asked, "Did you tell it to him just like that?"

Sam nodded, muttering, "It was stupid. I just can't believe we got into a fight when we hadn't spoken in five months. He may never call again."

"You can always call him." Jess pointed out, though she knew he would never do that. One of the few things Sam had confided to her was that his family had told him that if he was leaving, he couldn't come back, and Sam had taken that line seriously. Jess was pretty sure that no parent would actually say that to their child and mean it, but Sam insisted that when his father made a threat, he always stuck by it and there was no convincing Sam otherwise. "You know, apologize?"

"He probably wouldn't even answer." Sam replied dejectedly, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Between classes and working and now fighting with Dean he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Too bad it was only 4 in the afternoon.

Jessica stood and walked around the room, retrieving bits and pieces of the phone and snapping them back together, relieved that Sam had a simple phone that was made for being rough with and not a more delicate or expensive phone that would have been inoperable. She pushed the power button, then placed the phone in Sam's hand, "You don't know until you try."

"I don't want him to not answer."

Jess kissed Sam lightly on the forehead, tugging on a strand of hair gently as she tried to reassure him, "You already think he won't answer, what's the worst that can happen? If he does answer, you apologize and try not to fight with him again. Be rational, use some of those public speaking skills you learned last semester to stay in control of the conversation. If he doesn't answer, so what? He will at least know you tried, and sometimes just trying can make all the difference."

"I hate when you're right."

"You love me anyway." Jess teased, kissing him once more before stepping back, "I've got to go to biology study group at the library. Call me when you're done? I will keep my phone on."

"Sure." Sam agreed, waiting for her to leave the apartment before staring down at his phone apprehensively. He didn't want to make the call and not have it answered; he didn't need that sort of affirmation that Dean hated him and didn't want to speak to him again. Jess did have a point, though, he did want Dean to know he cared enough to make the effort. What if Dean was feeling just as guilty about their screaming match as he was? What if Dean wanted to call but didn't want to go through the rejection of not being answered? Sam sighed, shaking his head slightly. Dean wouldn't have put that much thought into it; it was highly unlikely that Dean was sitting around like a girl lamenting over a stupid argument. It was much more likely that Dean had hit something or someone and was stewing angrily over a beer. His 24 year old brother was many things, but soft was not one of them.

Knowing Jess would be interrogating him about it later and not wanting to have to explain any of this to her, Sam mustered up the energy and courage to dial the familiar number. He held his breath as it rang once, twice and then three times before a connection was made.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" Dean's voice came across the line, sounding more alarmed than Sam had heard his brother sound in years. Sam could reasonably guess that it was because Sam hadn't called Dean at all since he'd been gone, so his brother automatically jumped to the wrong conclusion.

Sam let out the breath he had been holding, relieved that Dean had answered and wanting to quickly reassure him that nothing was wrong, "I'm fine, Dean. Nothing's wrong. I just..I, uh.." Sam paused, realizing how ridiculous this phone call actually was. Why had he let Jess convince him to do this, again?

"Missed the sound of my voice?" Dean asked, a trace of amusement in his words now that the worry was gone.

Sam grinned, knowing by Dean's tone that everything was okay between them, and he admitted the real reason he was calling, "No, I was just calling to apologize for being a dick earlier."

"You called to apologize, Princess?" Dean teased, "Is it your time of the month? Are you feeling a little hormonal?"

Cheeks flushing red, Sam was silent for a few seconds, completely unable to think of a comeback. Dean had him in a corner, this was an exceptionally girly thing to do. He'd never live this down. "Shut up, Dean...my girlfriend, she thought…I just wanted to make sure things were good between us before you went out on the hunt tonight."

"Right, 'your girlfriend' thought," Dean continued to taunt, "Dude, what is that school doing to you?" He paused, absorbing what Sam had said, and then asked incredulously, refusing to be pulled into a heartfelt speech, "Is this the 'if you die?' speech? Really, Sam? You called me for the goodbye speech?"

"Shut up." Sam retorted, knowing he was going to make no progress with Dean during this conversation, "It's not the death speech. I just wanted to make sure we're good. Stop being a jerk."

"Stop being a girly bitch, then." Dean replied, the smirk he wore evident in his voice, "We're good, Sam. If I bite the big one, your conscience will be clear. Do you need anything else? Some warm milk? Maybe a bedtime story? Your paci?"

"Real funny." Sam complained, though there was no real annoyance behind his words. He was just relieved that his brother wasn't holding a grudge and that they were okay. Perhaps he had overreacted, but this was the first time he and Dean had argued since Sam had left for Stanford, bringing up a lot of insecurity and hurt feelings that Sam had thought he'd buried far enough down to escape. His father's voice echoed in his head, reminding him that he had no say, no claim on their family anymore after he abandoned them. He felt sort of foolish, now, for thinking that this would ever be a good idea. With a sigh, he told Dean, "I don't want to keep you, I know you're getting ready to head out. I just wanted to make sure we were good; I don't care how that makes me sound."

"We're good, Sam." Dean reassured his brother, this time with total seriousness, "Don't you worry about me...focus on your school crap and your girlfriend and don't even think about this anymore. It's going to take more than a stupid argument to make us not alright. We've got this; let us do what we're good at and you go study or whatever you do for fun in California."

"Just-Just be safe." Sam replied, about to ask Dean to let him know how the hunt went when his phone beeped, Jessica's number flashing across the screen, "Dean, that's Jess, I've got to go. I'll catch you later."

"Later." Dean replied, disconnecting the call.

"Hey, Jess." Sam said after switching calls, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just checking on you." Jess replied cheerfully, "After our study group, everyone is going to head over to Patrick's house for drinks, cards and maybe some karaoke. Want to come?"

Sam was about to decline, but then again the idea of spending the night cooped up in the apartment, thinking about his dad and brother, sounded miserable. Holding the phone to the ear with his shoulder, he stood and stretched his back out, "Yeah, that sounds great. I actually need to pick up a book from the library, so why don't I meet you guys down there? I don't mind hanging out for the study session."

"Great!" Jess replied happily, and Sam heard her cover the mouthpiece with her hand and tell the group, "Hey guys, Sam's going to come hang out with us too."

Sam was glad he joined Jess and their friends, by the time they returned to their apartment at 3:45 am he was feeling relaxed and free, a few beers having dulled his senses enough to make everything seem minor and funny. Jess had indulged a bit more, and kept stumbling over her feet, laughing harder every time, and Sam was finding it hard not to join in. It wasn't often that Sam really kicked back and lived the 'college scene'. He was enrolled on a scholarship and couldn't afford for anything to distract him from his studies; there was no way he could afford Stanford on his own and even if his family hadn't washed their hands of him, there's no way they'd be able to cough up the money for it either. It wasn't just the money, either, he was just not a very social person and he preferred to hang out at the apartment with Jess or bury himself in his books. He supposed it was a product of the way he was raised. The group they had been hanging out with after the study club was relatively small, just four others aside from Jess and Sam, but it wasn't uncommon for Jess to spend time in a group of 15 or 20 people and that was just too crowded for Sam. Thankfully, she understood his loner status and never pressured him to do anything he didn't feel comfortable with.

Fumbling with the keys to his apartment, he tried to insert the key with one hand while using the other to steady Jess, who had picked that moment to start swaying alarmingly. He dropped the keys, and tried to hold on to Jess and bend down to pick them up at the same time, but with his long legs and torso it was much harder to reach the ground while still supporting another person. Clumsily, they both tumbled onto the ground, laughing hysterically at the absurdity of the situation. Sam pulled himself back to his feet, then reached out to pull Jessica up as well, swearing quietly as the keys fell out of his grasp again.

Jess bent down to retrieve them this time, laughing while jiggling them in Sam's direction teasingly. She managed to open the apartment and they both entered, Sam kicking off his shoes in the living room entrance instead of putting them up like he normally would. It was late, they were tired and giddy and he just didn't have the energy to do anything at the moment. Stripping down to boxers, he flopped down on the bed and waited for Jess to join him, not bothering with pajama pants. If things went as he hoped they would, he wouldn't need them quite yet. As if reading his mind, Jess appeared in the doorway just a few minutes later, her button-down shirt open, underwear and bra showing with nothing else on. Sam grinned appreciatively, pushing himself up on his elbows to enjoy the view a little more. Jess knelt down on the bed, straddling Sam's legs and bending over to kiss his stomach gently, but the moment was ruined by the ringing of Sam's cell phone.

"I'm going to throw the damn thing against the wall." Jess stated plainly, rolling off of Sam and searching around for the ringing phone, "Talk about bad timing-"

"It could be one of our friends," Sam reminded her, "Someone could have run into trouble."

"Sure, be reasonable." Jess joked, handing him the phone from the bedside table, "Make it quick, we have...stuff...to do."

Sam's smile quickly faded when he saw the number on his phone, his blood turning to ice. He sat up, answering the phone with a tone of barely-controlled panic, "What happened?"

"Hey, Sam…"

"What's wrong?" Sam snapped, jumping out of bed and gathering his discarded clothes, dressing quicker than he ever had in his life, "Where are you guys? How bad is it?"

John's voice was gruff and Sam knew his father was dreading this call without even having to see his father's expression, "There's been an accident, the hunt went bad. We were unprepared; we thought we were dealing with something else-"

"I told Dean you needed to do more research!" Sam shouted, panic firmly settling in his chest at his father's admission. If Dad was calling and not Dean, it had to be bad. "Where are you? I'm on my way."

"You don't need to come-"

"Of course I'm coming!" Sam retorted, his worry coming out as anger in a way that was so like Dean that it made his heart ache for his brother, "Now where are you? Is he even alive?"

"We're in Nevada, Carson City. He's in pretty bad shape, Sam." John admitted, and Sam could envision his father scrubbing at his face, trying to reign in his emotions. "He took a beating from a Gueridia and is in the ICU."

Sam swore loudly, grabbing his keys and heading for the door, completely forgetting about Jess until she grabbed him by the arm with a concerned and confused expression. Into his phone, he barked, "I'll be there in four hours or less."

Sam hung up the phone and then turned to Jess, surprised to see she had gotten dressed as well. He flashed her an apologetic smile and then leaned forward to kiss her forehead, "My brother's in bad shape, I've got to head out to Nevada. I'm sorry, Jess, I know this seems crazy, but he needs me."

"I'm going with you, then." Jess replied, reaching around her boyfriend to grab her purse off of the nearby table, "Look at you, you're a mess...you can't drive alone when you're upset like this."

"I'll be fine. You really should stay-"

"It's not up for discussion." Jess insisted, "You stayed with me the entire time my mom was in the hospital after her heart attack, this is me doing the same for you. This is what you do for the people you love, Sam."

Sam walked out the front door, not too surprised when Jess followed, and as he took the stairwell at marathon speeds, he told her, "I just think it's a bad idea. My family isn't like other families, Jess, my father is...well...he can be a dick sometimes and he's already going to be pissed he has to deal with me, much less if I bring someone else along…"

"I'm coming, Sam." Jess said firmly. They reached the car, and she stopped beside him as he reached for the door handle, reaching up and touching his cheek lightly, "I don't care if your father is a complete monster. I don't care if he rips me a new one or if I have to sit in the hall the entire time. One, you're in no shape to be driving at all since you've been drinking. Two, you've been awake for nearly 24 hours and combined with the alcohol, you're going to be getting pretty tired on a monotonous drive. Three, your brother is important to you and therefore he's important to me. Most importantly, no one should have to be in a position to face this sort of thing alone, Sam. If your dad doesn't want you there, it doesn't seem like he'll be supportive. You need someone on your side, Sam, and I'm going to be that person. I'll give you all the space you need when we get there, but I'm still going."

Sam leaned down to kiss her gently, his hands in her hair. He pressed their foreheads together, whispering, "Thank you."

"I love you, you moron." Jess replied with a smile, "You don't have to thank me for anything."

They made the four and a half hour drive in three hours and fifteen minutes, and by the time they got there both Sam and Jess were a bundle of nerves. Sam, because as time passed his worry for his brother grew exponentially as did his apprehension about having to face his father again. Jess, because Sam's foot had stayed firmly pressed against the accelerator for the duration of the trip and she had been certain in some points that they were going to die a dramatic, explosive death after a horrific crash.

Sam pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, turning off the engine with a sense of foreboding. Every instinct told him to get as far away from there as possible, though he knew that he needed to lay eyes on his brother just in case Dean didn't get better. Just the idea of Dean not healing was enough to send Sam's mind reeling, and he put his arms across the steering wheel, burying his face into them while taking a few steadying breaths. It would do no good to think about the worst case scenario, and he didn't even want to think about a world without his older brother in it. He felt Jess's hand on his shoulder, but remained silent, trying to pull himself together enough to walk in to the hospital, face his father, face the image of his broken brother and not completely lose it in front of his girl.

It took nearly five minutes before he was ready, but as soon as he made up his mind that he was not going to fall apart, the last little bit of the buzzed feeling he'd been feeling since hanging out with his friends evaporated and he put up a barrier to keep his emotions reigned in. He looked at Jess, who looked as tired as he felt but was being incredibly fantastic about the whole situation, and asked, "You ready?"

"If you are." she replied, "Do you want to go in alone, first? I can wait in the lobby or something?"

Sam shook his head and got out of the car, walking around to open the door for Jess and then wrapped an arm around her, drawing strength from her calming presence before he led them towards the entry doors. He didn't want to see his brother this way. He knew that if Dad had called, it had to be really bad, and he had never seen Dean in a position where their father was worried for his life. He never wanted to; he wanted Dean to outlive him, he never wanted to live in a world where his big brother wasn't a phone call away. By the time they got to the elevators, he was slightly trembling despite his promise to maintain control of himself. Jess was kind enough not to mention it, but she did tighten her grip on him in a silent show of support. The ICU was on the 5th floor, and the elevator was the slowest moving contraption in the history of machines. By the time they reached their destination, Sam was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground, his fingers twisted in the soft cotton of Jess's sweater. He let go as the doors opened, but took her by the hand for both reassurance and as a show of unity. He had a feeling her presence wouldn't be well-received by his father.

Sam immediately spotted his father when he stepped off the elevator, the older man's presence echoing like a beacon, drawing his attention to the one very spot with no effort whatsoever. Sam wasted no time crossing the distance of the reception area and the angled hallway, and stopped in front of his father, unsure of what to say.

"Hey, Sam." John said gruffly, emotion that Sam couldn't quite read on his face, "You made good time."

"It's Dean." Sam said simply, as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did, because his father nodded grimly. Sam pulled Jess a step closer, looking from his father to his girlfriend and said quietly, unsure of the reaction he'd receive, "Dad, this is my girlfriend, Jessica. Jess, this is my Dad, John."

Sam didn't bother with a last name, assuming that whatever name Dean was admitted under was not 'Winchester' and not up for explaining insurance fraud to his straight-laced girlfriend. He watched, holding his breath as John looked Jess from head to toe, and then exhaled deeply when John shook out his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Jessica."

"The pleasure's mine." Jess replied, though her tone wasn't as welcoming as it generally was when meeting someone for the first time. Sam had to assume that it was because of him and the few stories she had heard about the huge fight they had before he left for Stanford. His suspicions were confirmed when she added, "You have a wonderful son; he is truly a remarkable human being. Of course, I'm sure you already know that."

Sam recognized the slight shift in her tone of voice as being the tone she used when she was passively aggressively trying to right a wrong but not wanting to completely overstep her place. He put an arm around her shoulder in an attempt to shut her up, knowing his father would immediately see what she was up to and while Sam didn't think he'd cause a scene in the middle of the hallway, he didn't particularly want to find out. Before either his girlfriend or his father could speak, Sam interjected, "Tell me about Dean."

John looked from Sam to Jess, as if he was trying to calculate what he should and would say in front of the outsider. Realizing the dilemma, Sam wished he had sent Jess away for coffee or something so they could have gotten through this part without an audience. He wanted, no, he needed to know all of the details, not the censored version that was fabricated for the hospital staff and/or police. Hating himself for doing it, he put on his most pitiful face and put a hand to his forehead as if he were in a bit of pain. He groaned slightly, then asked Jess, "Hey, baby? Could you run and get me a coffee? My head is killing me."

He hated to play on her sympathy, but he knew it would be a lot easier to get some solitude with his father if she thought she was helping than if she thought he was shutting her out. He didn't want Jess to think he didn't want her around while they discussed Dean, but he needed to know the truth and there was no way he was going to expose her to the life he used to live. Jess's face was full of compassion with the slightest twinge of concern as she agreed and quickly left in search of a coffee machine. Sam let his hand fall, knowing they didn't exactly have much time, and asked his father urgently, "What happened?"

John raised an eyebrow at the exchange between Jess and Sam, clearly wanting to say something but as soon as Sam spoke his expression hardened and he went back into business mode, "We thought we were hunting a werewolf, all of the signs pointed to one. Turns out it was a Gueridia and you know silver don't do shit to them. He jumped Dean before we even realized what was happening, the shot just pissed it off. By the time I found the iron in our weapons bag, a lot of damage had been done. Dean's pretty torn up; deep cuts from the claws, the bites. A nasty concussion and a skull fracture from where he hit his head going down, broken ribs and lung trauma from the impact. He-He looks like crap and I'd like to say it looks worse than it is, but that's not really the case this time, Sam."

"How do you confuse a Gueridia and a werewolf?" Sam snapped, anger flooding through him in waves so powerful that he was starting to scare himself. He knew that questioning the hunt was the least of their worries right now, but it was so much easier to be mad at Dad and Dean than to absorb what his father was telling him. The rational part of his brain was telling him to shut up and go be with his brother, but the fueled up, terrified, exhausted and angry part of his brain was reminding him that picking a fight with his father would keep him from having to see his brother in such bad shape, to prolong having to actually lay his own eyes on his brother and make this a reality. His stomach churned unpleasantly at the idea of seeing his brother after he had been mauled, and he decided to listen to the slightly more unbalanced side of his brain. "I told Dean you guys needed to do more research, that it just didn't make sense, but no one ever takes me seriously! Dean's fighting for his life, Dad, all because you couldn't just stop and listen to reason. You never listen! You think you know everything about everything and now this is on you. If Dean dies, it will be your-"

Sam's statement was cut off by his father's fist connecting with his mouth. For a moment, the two stood nose-to-nose in the hallway, furious and barely under control. Sam's own fist clenched; he had never raised his hand to his father, but there was always a first time for everything.

"Don't you dare!" John said in a quiet, menacing tone. The oldest Winchester didn't need to rely on shouting to be intimidating, evident as his son immediately deflated partially at the tone, "You abandoned this family, you turned your backs on us and left. You have no right to criticize how we hunt when you wanted nothing to do with the life. You want to obsess over research and plan every detail of our jobs? You lost that right when you walked out on us."

"I didn't walk out, you forced me to leave!"

"You're the one who wanted out in the first place." John reminded his son harshly, "I can't believe you; you claim to love your brother and you came all the way down here to what? Throw around some blame and yell at me? You couldn't do that on the phone, Sam?"

At those words, Sam stilled, a haunted look passing over his face before he adopted a more neutral expression. He hated to admit it, but his father was right; this wasn't what needed to be happening, he needed to be helping Dean and not playing the blame game and making a scene. He looked down, unable to meet his father's gaze now that the majority of his anger had flickered out, "Sorry, sir. Can I go in to see him?"

John moved out of the doorway and Sam took a step towards the entrance, stopping only when he heard Jess call his name from behind. He looked back at her, recognizing her silent question of if he wanted her to come with him, he nodded and she crossed the gap between them, taking his hand into her own and squeezing it tightly. Sam closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, then exhaled heavily, forcing himself to open his eyes and enter the room.

The minute he laid eyes on Dean, Sam forgot how to breathe. He forgot how to blink, how to walk, how to speak and how to think. He couldn't look away, even though the sight of his brother made his heart race and his stomach churn with dread. The entire world came to a screeching halt and the only two things left were his barely functioning brain and his unresponsive big brother. This could not be happening.

Somehow he made his way across the room and to his brother's side, gently taking Dean's bruised hand into his own, taking great care not to disturb the wires or cause him any pain. He drew in a breath, the air burning as he inhaled, and realized that he had been holding his breath. As his oxygen made its way to his brain, he became aware of Jess's hand on his back, tapping him not-so-gently and telling him to breathe before he passed out. Once he got his breathing under control, the rest of his senses started returning as well and he finally began to hear the beeping of the machines, the wooshing of the ventilator, the dripping of the IV liquids. He could smell the antiseptic mixed with blood, the tangy scent familiar and excruciatingly painful. He could taste his own blood, where he had bit his lip so hard that he had broken through several layers of skin in his mouth. His could feel the tears that he hadn't even realized were present spilling onto his cheeks, and his sniffed slightly to keep snot from running from his nose. A tissue was passed into his hands and he scrubbed it against his face with a shuddering breath. He had experienced some really unsettling moments in his lifetime, but this was a million times worse than anything that he could have ever imagined.

"Sam?" Jess asked quietly, rubbing his arm gently, "Are you hearing me?"

Sam glanced at her, seeing the tears in her eyes and realizing that she had probably been trying to get his attention for the last few minutes with no success. He sniffed loudly, his voice shaking when he spoke, "Jess...this is my brother, Dean. He...well, he usually looks a lot better than this." He glanced at Dean, flinching, then turned his eyes back to Jess. It hurt too much to look at Dean, his brain wasn't having much success processing what was happening here.

Dean's face was swollen, his skin grey in the few places that weren't colored blue, purple and black. There were four deep gashes that had been stitched, one on his forehead and three in a line on his cheek. Sam had been out of the hunting life for almost two years, but he was still able to immediately recognize claw marks. Both eyes were completely swollen shut and his cheeks and nose were swollen so much that Sam wasn't entirely sure the ventilator wasn't being used just because his nose holes were so tiny that he couldn't inhale. His lips were chapped and dry, colored a disturbing shade of purple. A thick bandage was wrapped around his head concealing even more injuries.

The look on Jess's face was the final straw that broke the proverbial camel's back, her eyes watery and her expression filled with concern and sympathy for someone she didn't even know. He wasn't sure if the emotion that exploded from him was a result of her compassion or the fact that his brother looked so terrible that someone who was a stranger to him could even look so miserable on his behalf, but regardless of the reason, part the dam holding back Sam's emotions crumbled and he took a few steps back, sinking into a chair and burying his face in his hands. Silent tears streamed down his cheek; it was taking everything he had to hold back gut wrenching, ugly sobs that were trying to break loose. He wasn't going to lose control like that, not here and not now.

Jess rubbed his back gently, whispering soothing words though Sam was not really hearing anything through his grief. How could someone so broken possibly survive? If he did survive, would he even be the same Dean? He abruptly stood, his tears drying as the stubborn part of his mind took control. He swiftly moved back to Dean's side, his thumb gently brushing over his older brother's hand. "I'm going to find a way to fix this, Dean. I'll leave no stone unturned, I will contact everyone I know and then find more resources until I get ahold of someone who can help. Just hang on and keep fighting and believe me when I say I will fix you, man. Now it is time for me to take care of you, so just hang in there and let me do it."

Sam brushed away the wetness on his cheeks, forcing the agonizing waves of sadness and anxiety back as he began to mentally catalogue where to start looking for answers. Obviously, begin with their closest circle of friends; Bobby, Jim, Caleb and Joshua. He could build resources from them and reach out to the hunting community as a whole to see if there was some magic cure, some way to reverse the injury from a monster attack. If that didn't work, there were witches, hoodoo, shamans, healers. Someone had to be the real deal and everyone had their price; he was willing to pay anything. He cleared his throat, turning to Jess with no way to explain any of this to her other than to tell her the truth.

"Jess, I-"

"Sam's going to take you home." John interrupted from the doorway, the expression on his face telling Sam that he knew what his son was up to and he disapproved.

Unfortunately for John, Sam was used to his father's disapproval and disappointment, and he shook his head, retorting angrily, "No, I'm not. Not yet. We're going to get a hotel room and I'm going to do some research on his...condition. I don't expect you've done the same; we've already established you are incapable of gathering accurate and important information."

John's expression was lethal and Sam knew he had crossed a line but was too upset to really care at the moment. There would be plenty of time for regrets later, but right now he needed to stop being treated like a child and get to work. John took a few steps towards Sam, crossing a bit of distance in just a few strides, his anger filling the room with its presence. Sam wasted no time bridging the gap between them, rising to full height, his chest heaving with emotion. He was just as furious as his father looked, both out of anger that Dean had been hurt and the rapid conversion of fear to fury.

"I'd suggest you take yourself out of here before I do something I will regret." John said in a dangerous tone, "You don't even belong here, you're no longer part of our family. You abandoned us and look what happened!"

"Me?" Sam asked incredulously, his temper further getting pushed to the edge by his father's words, "You're the one who closed that door. You're the one who is responsible for this. Don't you dare try to pin any of this on me!"

"Woah, woah…" Jess interjected, unable to watch this go on any further for fear that one or both of them would start throwing punches, "I know you're both angry and have a lot of unresolved issues, but this isn't what Dean needs right now."

John didn't even bother looking in the petite blonde's direction before dismissing her with, "Listen, you don't know shit when it comes to my kids and my don't even belong here. Neither of you."

"Don't talk to her like that!" Sam replied venomously, his voice rising slightly as he took another step towards his father, "We have every right to be here-"

"Enough!" Jess shouted, throwing her arms apart to keep the two men separated, "Sam, you've had a long week and an even longer night. You're tired and you're scared; don't say something you'll regret. Let's get a hotel, get some rest, take a shower and calm down. After you're feeling more like yourself, we can come back."

"I'm fine." Sam replied automatically, his eyes still locked on his father, "I want to stay here with Dean."

"Dean wouldn't want to see you and your dad fighting like this." Jess reasoned, "And you two getting into it won't help him heal any faster. You both need a break from each other. There are a lot of unresolved issues, but this isn't the time or the place to hash them out, Sam." She turned to her boyfriend and put her hand against his cheek softly, "If you would just calm down for a minute and think about this, you'd realize I'm right."

The most annoying part was that Sam did know she was right, and therefore had to give in and be reasonable. With a look at his father that clearly said that this wasn't over, Sam went back to Dean's bedside, whispering quietly that he would be back later, and then followed Jess to the door. He half-expected his father to take a swing at him again, or perhaps shout out obscenities and threats, but instead John just took a step back, letting Sam pass without a word. The elevator ride to the first floor and the walk to the car was silent, Sam not even noticing the worried looks Jess was throwing in his direction.

When they got to the car, Jess held out her hand expectantly for the keys and Sam turned them over with no protest, walking to the passenger side and sitting down, his head resting against the window as she turned on the car, fiddling with the seat position, mirrors and radio. They had driven nearly two blocks before Jess broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

"Come again?" Sam asked, glancing in her direction with a confused expression.

Jess sighed, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she often did when she was nervous, "I overstepped my boundaries. It was none of my business...you guys looked like you wanted to beat the crap out of each other and I just knew you would regret it if you got into a huge knock-down, drag-out fight and got yourself kicked out of the hospital. I tried not to get involved, but I guess I'm not very good at sitting by idly."

Sam turned to face her, his eyes wet with tears for a few moments before he reigned them back. He had no idea how he had gotten lucky enough to have such a wonderful girlfriend, but he had really hit the jackpot when it came to Jess. "You didn't overstep." He cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged pink as he admitted, "You're right, actually. My dad and I, uh, we tend to react to each other in the worst way possible at any given moment. We can barely exchange pleasantries without getting into it, and when something major is happening like this, it brings out the worst in both of us. If you hadn't intervened, we would have probably not just been kicked out of the hospital, but arrested as well. And it wouldn't have been fair to Dean; we need to be focused on him right now."

"I have to admit, watching you with your dad is like seeing a side of you I've never seen before. You looked like you wanted to rip his throat out." Jess commented, turning into the parking lot of a Ramada, "I've never seen you so pissed before."

"My dad brings that side out of me...out of most people, actually." Sam replied wryly, "He is really hard to be around sometimes, a lot of the time, actually. Dean gets him and they can peacefully coexist, but I lack that gene." He glanced at the hotel, his wallet hurting as he thought about how much this could wind up costing him if they stayed more than just a night or two. And what if he did decide to stay longer? It could be weeks before Dean was better, and Jess couldn't miss that much class. Anxiety welling up in his chest, he tried to come up with a plan, a strategy, something that had rules and boundaries that he could lay out and follow without having to think too much. Thinking hurt so incredibly bad right now.

"I think that could be said about a lot of families. My mother and I are only recently able to spend more than a few hours together without getting into an argument about something stupid." Jess replied with a sympathetic smile, pulling into a parking spot and reaching for the door handle but falling still when Sam reached out to grab her arm.

Sam cleared his throat quietly, giving her arm a tiny squeeze, "I think you should leave me here and head back home."

"Are you serious?" Jess asked, her voice raising with surprise, "I'm not going to leave you here alone to deal with this, Sam. It's not happening."

"No, hear me out." Sam argued, "I know you're worried about me, but I can handle it. You need to be back at school on Monday for your exam and I don't know how long it'll take before I'm ready to come back. I like having you with me, but school-"

"Did you hit your head?" Jess's forehead wrinkled as she frowned deeply, "If you even think that I'm going to just leave you here alone, without the car or a bag packed or anything, you must have a head injury."

"I'll get my Dad to bring me back to school." Seeing her skeptical look, Sam shrugged slightly, "I'll rent a car or something. I'll figure it out. If you failed this semester because of me, I'd never forgive myself."

Jessica rolled her eyes, pulling her arm away from Sam gently and opening the car door, "If I have to, I'll drive back Sunday night or early Monday morning. You don't need to be alone right now, especially around your dad. I'm going to go get us a room, we'll get some shut eye, and we'll talk about this more later."

She shut the door behind her, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts. He leaned his head against the back of the seat with a groan, knowing that there was no way he'd be able to do the research he needed with Jess hovering over him. He'd either have to tell her the truth, which could put his relationship in jeopardy, or be incredibly sneaky, which would also put his relationship in jeopardy. He reached behind the driver's seat, unzipping his backpack that he had left there the previous day to see if his laptop was still in there. Seeing that it was, he started to formulate a plan.

He and Jess got settled into their room in record time, finding it was quite easy when both had no luggage to bring upstairs or unpack. Unfortunately, no clean clothes meant both were reluctant to shower, seeing as how they'd just have to put back on their dirty clothes afterwards. Deciding to worry about that after a nap, Jess convinced Sam to come lie beside her in bed; she fell asleep quickly and easily and Sam had to force himself not to do the same. When he was sure she was deeply asleep, he carefully got out of bed, scribbling a note on the notepad next to the bed telling her he ran to the store to pick up some necessities. He was able to sneak out of the room without a sound, thanks to years of practice while hunting and training with his family, and headed towards the nearest library.

Thanks to the amount of time he and Jess had been awake before getting the call about Dean, he was able to get nearly ten hours of worth of research done before she was calling his cell phone to find out where he was. He had set up a research station at the university library, spreading out notes on the creature that Dean and their father had encountered as well as notes on different avenues for treatment that may or may not work. On the far end of the table sat discarded coffee cups from his attempt to stay awake; he was past running on empty and wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to stare at a computer screen since the words were blurring together so bad that he couldn't make out half of what he was reading.

He had some viable leads, though, and was already starting to pack up when his phone vibrated, Jess's name popping up on the display. He hastily jammed the rest of the papers into his backpack and hurried out the front door of the library to answer the call, slightly breathless when he did accept the call.

"Hello?"

"Sam, where are you?" Jess asked, sounding a good mix of worried, upset and confused, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam replied automatically, having years of experience answering that question this way without thought, "I left you a note; I needed to pick up some things. I'll be back soon, though."

"Did you get any sleep?" Jess asked, sounding less upset and more concerned now, and Sam could picture her clearly in his mind, knowing that she probably didn't even look for a note and likely had just woke up to find herself alone and jumped to conclusions. "We could have gone to the store together, Sam. You didn't stop by to see Dean, did you? Not alone with your dad there?"

"No, Jess, I didn't." Sam answered truthfully, "And even if I did, I can handle my dad. I've seen him a lot angrier for a lot less, we've been getting on each other's nerves and in each other's faces for as long as I can remember and we've both survived so far. I'll be back in twenty minutes, okay?"

Sam disconnected the call before she could pry further, and pulled into a Target parking lot to hurry and grab a few items to make it look like he had really been shopping. As he looked cluelessly at clothes for Jess, he dialed the first person on his list to contact about Dean.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi Bobby. It's Sam. Sam Winchester."

"I know who you are, you idjit." Bobby's voice rang through the line, sounding surprised but pleasant, "I didn't expect to hear from you though, son. How is college treating you?"

"Um, it's really great, actually." Sam replied, feeling unexpectedly emotional at the warmth in Bobby's voice. He had always had a good relationship with the older hunter and it was nice to know that didn't have to change because he went away to school. "Listen, I'm in Carson City with Dad and Dean-"

"What happened?" Bobby interrupted, his voice hardening slightly as if he knew, and he probably did, that if Sam were with the other two Winchesters something terrible must have happened to cause it, "Are you alright? Your Dad and Dean?"

"It's Dean." Sam admitted, "They thought they were hunting a werewolf, but it was actually a s Gueridia-"

"How the hell do you confuse a Gueridia with a werewolf?" Bobby asked incredulously, which only validated Sam's righteous anger at his father for their lack of preparation. He was glad he wasn't the only one asking this question.

"No idea. Lack of preparation?" Sam replied, then continued, "It attacked Dean." he paused as Bobby hissed with surprise and concern, and then brought up the reason he was calling, "It isn't good, Bobby. He's in ICU and they're not sure he's going to make it. I need some help."

"Name it, kiddo." Bobby replied, his heart breaking for the Winchesters. He knew John wouldn't survive losing another member of his family and he knew Sam would deal with the loss of his older brother even worse. He was already starting to gather books on the Gueridia as he waited for Sam to continue, having an idea already of the direction this conversation was heading. He tossed the books into a bag and then tossed his black book of contacts on top of it.

Sam hesitated for just a moment, tossing a few random articles of clothing for Jess into the basket and moving on to hairbrushes and shampoo, "I've done some research on the Gueridia, but I can't find anything on curing or treating an attack. And some of the damage isn't just from the monster, but from the physical altercation. What I really need is someone who can heal-a shaman, voodoo?, trateur? Do you know anyone that is the real deal? Or maybe a spell or a, I don't know, freelance non-evil witch?" his voice broke slightly and he said quietly, "Bobby, I just can't lose him. We've got to do something."

"I'm on my way. I'll call some of my contacts on the way in and see what I can find. You sit tight and try not to panic. I'm sure your dad treated the wounds with holy water? If not, I'd start there and then apply a tincture of sage, basil and Henley's Best-your father knows how to whip up a batch of Henley's. Spread it over his worst wounds and then put the bandages back on, it will draw out a lot of the toxin from the Gueridia. It won't completely cure him, but it will help with the stuff the doctors can't fix."

"Thanks, Bobby." Sam said gratefully. He knew he'd be able to count on Bobby for help, the fatherly figure had never let them down before and was known for always coming through in a pinch, "And listen, if one of your contacts has any lead-big, small, whatever-let me know. I'm willing to do anything, pay any price, whatever it takes to save him." His phone beeped, saying another call was coming through, and his breath caught in his throat when he realized it was his father, "I've got to go Bobby, but I'll keep in touch."

He ended the call with Bobby and took a steadying breath before connecting to his father, trying to push down some of the paralyzing fear that this was going to be the call. "Hello?"

"Sam, you need to get back here."

"Is he-?"

"Just get back here." John said firmly, giving nothing away before hanging up. Abandoning the partially filled basket on the next aisle, Sam hurried to the exit, everything else forgotten as he raced back to his brother's bedside.

He arrived at the hospital in record time, hoping to God that there were none of those red-light or speeding cameras stationed in the city, because he had broken many traffic laws to get there as quickly as possible. He mashed the button for the elevator, and when thirty seconds passed without the doors opening, he changed his mind and took the stairs, running as fast as his long legs would carry him. Sam made it to Dean's hospital room breathless and sweaty, earning plenty of stares in the hallway from staff and visitors alike, but none of that mattered when he entered the room and saw his brother looking at him. Dean was awake.

Sam crossed the room in just a few large steps, ignoring his father completely, only having eyes for his brother, who looked completely stoned and half-asleep, but whose eyes were open and looking in his direction. He put his hand over Dean's, giving his big brother a smile and hoping that no one noticed the tears that he was refusing to let fall. Forcing the emotion back, he said shakily, "Hey, Dean, how are you feeling?"

"Like...hit...truck." Dean rasped out after pushing his oxygen mask to the side, his eyes falling closed for a moment from exhaustion from the minimal work required to speak, "Why...here?"

"Are you kidding me? Why wouldn't I be here?" Sam asked, watching his brother anxiously but wanting to hide the fact that he was scared to death that his brother could be so weak when he had always been the epitome of strength. "In case you missed it, you're in the hospital. If you're in the hospital, then I'm right here beside you. It's a rule, you know, in the Little Brother Handbook."

"Should...school…" Dean insisted, looking irritated with himself that he couldn't say more. He started to cough, and Sam gently slid the mask back on his brother's face.

"Breathe, Dean." Sam soothed, swatting his brother's hand gently as he tried to take the mask off again, "Leave it alone and breathe. You sound like a 90 year old asthmatic." Once he was sure Dean wasn't going to pull the mask off, he continued, "I'm not at school because it's the weekend, you idiot. You think I'm just going to sit around my apartment and watch TV knowing you're here in the hospital? You must have hit your head harder than they thought."

Dean moved the mask slightly, wincing as his muscles protested the action, "Study...not here...work...fine."

Sam rolled his eyes, following along with Dean's broken words easily because he knew Dean well enough to anticipate what he would be saying anyway and having always had a knack for even the least vocal communication when it was with his big brother, "I have nothing to study for, and you're not that far away from school. Seriously, dude, I left when Dad called and was here within a few hours. I literally spent less time driving here than I did observing Jess's study group last night. I'm off work this weekend and you're absolutely not fine. You're pretty far from it, actually, but at least it looks like you're on the road to recovery."

"You….your….call"

"It is not!" Sam argued, laughter in his expression, "Are you kidding me? This would have happened if you had been given the death speech or not, your research was wrong, you jerk. Unless you're saying you are pmsing and you spent the whole hunt dwelling on the goodbye speech, in which case, I'll buy you a midol and a cosmo and be back on my way to school."

"Bitch." Dean snorted, the one word summing up an equal amount of teasing to the one Sam had dished out. His eyes drooped closed and he tried to resist, but couldn't hold off the pull of sleep any longer.

Sam patted Dean's hand, gently telling his brother, "Get some sleep, Dean. I'll be here when you wake up. You're going to be okay."

Dean went limp with sleep just a few moments later, leaving Sam no choice but to acknowledge their father, who was still standing in the corner, watching them. He looked over at the exhausted older man, and said quietly, "I didn't tell Jess about us. She doesn't need to know the truth."

"You're just going to keep her in the dark forever?" John asked, "You plan on never talking about your childhood? Or are you just going to lie?"

Sam shrugged, not meeting his father's gaze because he didn't want to see the disapproval in his expression, "I don't know, Dad, but I can't tell her. She'll think I'm crazy and leave."

"And it doesn't really matter, because you have plans for a white-picket-fence fairy tale life." John added pointedly, "It's easier to cover when and if Dean calls or stops around and just pretend like you're not who you actually are."

"I'm not a hunter."

"No, you're not. You've made that perfectly clear. But you were raised as one. Any other version of your childhood that you spin will be a lie. You may not want to live this life anymore, but the past doesn't go away. Trust me, I know."

Sam looked away, feeling his temper starting to inflate and not wanting to argue again. He had informed his dad that he had kept their secret as a peace offering for the fight earlier and it would make it useless if they got into it again. Sensing Sam's internal struggle, John added, "You should head back to Palo Alto, Sam."

"What? Dean needs me here." Sam argued, a flurry of panic building in his chest. Dean was hurt, in the hospital after serious injuries, and Dad wanted him to leave? He couldn't leave now, not until Dean was better. He couldn't deny that he was also feeling more than a little hurt that Dad was pretty much kicking him to the door as soon as the crisis had started to clear. It had hurt when he had been told to stay gone and this didn't feel too much different from that conversation even if the words weren't screamed in anger.

John shook his head, "No, Sam, he doesn't. The longer you're here, the worse it's going to be when you leave." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezing lightly to try and convey the sentiment that he wasn't going to verbalize but that he hoped Sam understood, "It nearly killed him when you left for school, and I had to pick up the pieces. I'm not going to do that again. He may not even remember you being here if you go now, it will hurt him less."

Sam remained silent, wanting to argue but also knowing that his father was right about it being even harder to leave if he stayed longer. He didn't want to hurt Dean, that was the last thing he wanted, but he also didn't feel right leaving until he knew Dean would make a full recovery, until he could see it with his own two eyes that Dean was alright.

"Sam, you have to make a choice, son. You can either be in or out of this family. You can't have it both ways. You can't be a hunter and a civilian. You certainly can't be a hunter and a lawyer, of all things. If you really want to have a normal life, you need to let us go." John shook his head sadly, adding, "We don't want you to go, we're not sending you away. It's your choice completely, but whatever you choose needs to be it."

Sam sniffed, looking at his brother longingly. Dean had practically raised him, he had been the most constant presence in his life. How could he walk away from that? From the one person he trusted and cared about more than anyone? The one person who knew everything about him and loved him anyway? They had been soldiers in the same war, had faced nearly every impossibility life could throw at them together and survived to tell the tale. Cutting Dean out of his life would be like cutting off his right arm. How could he live with that? But how could he give up his future? Jess, his friends, his education, all of the plans he had made for himself? Why couldn't he just have both?

"I…" Sam trailed off, looking at his father and then his brother, feeling like he was drowning and no one was there to help. His internal debate was broken by his cell phone ringing and he looked down at the display, recognizing Jess's number. His past or his future, he couldn't have both. He had to make a choice. He had spent years trying to get away from hunting and this life, he was happy now; making his own choices and living his own life. To leave it all and go back to following orders and living in chaos was equally as difficult to imagine.

Blinking back tears, Sam said quietly, "I guess I should go, then."

John's own eyes were misty as Sam spoke, his decision clear and definitive. He pulled his son in for a tight hug, patting his back firmly twice before releasing the young man, "You stay safe, now, Sammy. Take care of yourself."

"You too. Take care of Dean. Make sure he knows...no, actually..." Sam closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He knew he had to leave, because if he had time to think over this any longer he may change his mind, "Just...Just take care of Dean. Thank you for letting me see him."

"Goodbye, Sam."

"Bye, Dad." Sam said quietly, taking one last look at his sleeping brother before exiting the room.

He walked down the stairwell and to the car with his mind in a fog, unable to process what had just happened and feeling completely detached and numb. He arrived at the hotel without even realizing he had been driving, his body on auto-pilot as he tried to come to terms with the decision he had made.

The minute he saw Jess, he broke down, sinking to his knees and covering his face with his hands as he began to sob. What had he done? How could he have chosen anyone over his family? Over Dean? How could he have chosen to walk away from 18 years of his life in favor of the freedom he had only been living for two years? Had he completely lost his mind?

"Sam? What happened? Is it Dean?"

Sam shook his head miserably, though he couldn't form any words. How do you tell someone that you chose them over your flesh and blood? That you just blew off your chance to get back into a family that had been so incredibly hard to lose the first time around? This was what he wanted, wasn't it? Freedom and independence? The chance to pave his own way and make his own choices, to be normal and live a normal life? To have a wife and a family and a job that he could talk about with friends? If he had made the right choice, why did it feel so wrong?

He struggled to pull himself together and rose to his feet, crossing the room and taking Jess in his arms, burying his head in her strawberry-scented hair in an attempt to ground himself. He had been working toward this goal for years, he had already lived through being disowned once and he had survived. He'd survive again. There was really no other option.

"Sam, you're scaring me. What happened?"

"Jess, it's time to go home. I'm done here."

The words were raw and painful and they felt and sounded completely wrong, but it was too late for regrets now. He had to focus on the future and put the past behind him, no matter how hard it was. Sure, it was reckless and stupid to choose the girl he had only been dating for a year over the brother who had raised him, but one day she would be the girl he'd been married to for twenty years and perhaps then it wouldn't hurt so bad. And if he was wrong? Well, he had plenty of time to believe the lie before that time came.

-Please let me know what you thought! This was so hard to write! Next will pick up somewhere in S1 or S2-