"Trust me." Dean said to an unsure Sam.
"Always."
And Sam always had trusted his big brother, he thought as he remembered good memories of him and Dean. No matter what situation they had found themselves in, Sam had always been able to trust Dean with anything. He trusted Dean to protect him. To be there for him. Everything. Hell, he trusted that Dean would come to Sam, if Sam ever needed him to. Just one call, one text to say that Sam needed him and he'd be there. And if Sam were to be honest with himself, if Dean came to him and said that he needed his help with something serious Sam would help. Sure he might grumble at it and appear reluctant but he knew that if Dean truly needed him then he would be there for the big brother that had been there for him all of his life.
Thinking of Dean, Sam found his wallet and opened it up as he sat back down on the couch. Opening one of the small side pockets he pulled out an old picture that had been folded and handled so many times over the years that it had started to fade a little. But Sam could still see the two kids in the picture.
It was one of him and Dean at the home of one their Dad's friends, Bobby Singer. He was a hunter too, but he still owned the house he had had before he had become one, along with the salvage yard he owned and ran.
In the picture, he and Dean were by the Impala with its hood popped open. Dean was fifteen in this photo and already he knew how to fix up a car when it wasn't ticking quite right, and especially when it came to the Impala. Dean was covered in car grease, and Sam remembered coming out to see whether or not Dean had finished up. So of course Dean had decided that it would be a great idea to cover Sam and his clean clothes in the same grease that covered his big brother.
Both of them were laughing whilst Dean had tried to completely cover him with the grease, and at the same time Bobby had snapped up a camera that was lying around and had taken a picture of them both. He had said that the two boys had needed a reminder that they could have happy times, despite the life that they led. And Bobby had been right. Every time Sam pulled it out and remembered them laughing, he was reminded that not everything about their life had been terrible. He had still had his big brother with him.
A few stray tears fell down Sam's face. He wished he could have that kind of relationship with his brother again. When they had conversed with ease, laughed together over stupid things, played ball and hung out as brothers. But he couldn't. Dean was so firmly in the hunter's way of life that going back to him would mean entrenching himself back into it as well.
But Sam could do what he could here. Maybe after he had finished law school, he would be able to help Dean out in his own way. God knows how many times Dean got himself into trouble, and as a lawyer he could help get him out again. He may not want to be a hunter, and he may want to lead a safe life, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to be able to help his brother.
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Dean wiped away the single tear that had managed to escape as he thought about the days when Sammy had trusted him blindly. When he had been able to give his brother the normal things that he wanted, or at least try to. But it just hadn't been enough, not really. And Dean couldn't help but resent the fact a little. He had tried so hard to make life better for Sam when they were growing up, and Dean felt as if he had basically thrown it back in face when he had walked out that door without a backwards glance.
And Dean knew that Sam probably felt betrayed by the fact the Dean hadn't supported him, but how could he have? His little brother had wanted to leave them, and family was supposed to stick together, not up and go off to freakin' college, for God's sake! Sam wasn't the only one who felt as if his brother had turned his back on him.
But he couldn't dwell on it now. Right now, he had a job to do, and by God he was gonna do it without getting his damned chick emotions involved.
He grabbed his shovel and was about to stab it into the ground when he paused and looked at all of the pictures and ornaments. He left his shovel where it was and went over to move them and put them to one side so that they wouldn't get damaged. Kid might be killing people but ghosts were hardly a true representative of what a person has been like when they were still alive. It was why they were called 'vengeful' spirits. All that was left of them was the part that wanted revenge, not the part that they had truly been.
After setting all of the pictures and mementos to one side, Dean went back to the shovel and got to work.
