A/N: As always, thanks to Cynbad3 for being my chief encourager and beta. Thanks to all of you for sticking with me, even though we're now AU. I loved the episode, but fortunately it was different enough from our story here that it shouldn't interfere.

Disclaimer in chapter 1

Chapter 9

Dean woke abruptly from his impromptu afternoon nap to find Bobby standing over Sam's bed, watching him anxiously, but then Sam turned over restlessly and Bobby fled the room, not even noticing that Dean was watching. He turned his attention back to his brother. For some reason, once he was sure Sam was actually waking up, he pretended he was asleep. He wasn't quite ready to have that talk yet. He could feel Sam's gaze on him, but had to fight to keep still when he heard his brother get up suddenly and leave the room. As soon as Sam was gone he sat up and listened to hear where the hurried footsteps ended.

Oh. The bathroom. That made sense. It had been a ridiculously long time since Sam had visited one of those. Dean winced even thinking about that. He settled back and closed his eyes, ready to get some more rest until the younger man returned. But Sam didn't come back, and after several minutes of waiting, Dean started to get nervous. Finally he got up and retraced Sam's steps to the bathroom, slightly relieved to hear the shower running. That made sense, too. But when he had been standing there in the hallway for fifteen minutes and it was still running, his uneasiness increased rapidly.

He paced the hallway outside the door for a few more minutes and then finally knocked. "Sam? Are you okay in there?" The shower continued to run, and there was no response to his question.

Maybe he hadn't knocked hard enough. Or maybe Sam was just ignoring him. He stood there for another minute, undecided on what to do next. When the shower continued to run, Sam showing no signs of being done soon, he couldn't take it anymore. Raising his fist, he pounded on the door much harder than before.

"Sam! Are you okay? Answer me!" There was no way Sam could miss his question this time since he had practically shouted it. He was mildly surprised that Bobby didn't come charging up the steps to see what was going on.

The shower stopped abruptly, and he could hear Sam moving around in there, but he still didn't respond, and the door stayed closed. Dean tried to be patient, but when it had been five minutes with no acknowledgement, he raised his fist to pound on the door again. Just as he did, the door opened, releasing a rush of warmth and steam.

He lowered his fist sheepishly, encouraged when Sam grinned at him. But the younger man was holding a spare towel closed across his upper body, looking uncomfortable. Huh. Dean hadn't even thought of what Sam was going to think of his new appearance. His hair was longer than he would remember, and it was apparent that his brother wasn't feeling comfortable with his new bulk yet. He wondered suddenly what other surprises waited for Sam that they hadn't thought of.

"Get dressed. We need to talk." He threw his brother one last sympathetic glance and headed toward the stairs. "I'll be down in the kitchen."

He heard the door close again, presumably for Sam to continue getting dressed, although now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure his brother had taken any clean clothes with him to the bathroom. He made a quick detour to the bedroom to dig some clothes out of Sam's duffel. He laid out a worn black t-shirt and one of Sam's favorite flannel shirts, but after a moment's thought he replaced the jeans he had selected for the gray sweat pants the two brothers shared when dealing with leg injuries. The jeans would probably be too rough on his cut leg.

Satisfied with his selections, he resumed his trip down to the kitchen, satisfied when he heard the bathroom door open again. Sam should be down soon.

Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a beer, and he looked up casually when Dean entered the room. "How's your brother?"

Dean studied him shrewdly. Bobby was good. If he hadn't seen the older man in their room himself, he would never have known. Bobby looked like he had been established here for a while. He had a newspaper spread out across the table and was holding a black pen in one hand like he had just been circling possible hunts in the news.

Dean did know better, though, and it concerned him that Bobby wasn't even being honest with him about how he was feeling. He shrugged and dropped down into the chair across from the older hunter. "He's okay, I guess. I think he just discovered that he looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger with long hair, and he seems a little freaked out, but he'll be okay." He hoped he sounded more positive than he felt. "He's getting dressed and then he'll be down."

Bobby nodded, looking down at his bottle. "Do you need me here when you talk to him?" He sounded a little hesitant. "I was wondering because I have a car that I need to get done, and I was thinking I should be getting back to it as soon as I can."

Dean felt like the bottom was dropping out of his world. Bobby had always been there for the two brothers, even when he didn't have to be. If he was going to leave this whole explanation to Dean with not even an assist, the situation must be even worse than he had thought. He nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, sure, Bobby. I got this. You go ahead and get some work done. I know things have been a little up in the air for the past couple of days."

Bobby nodded gratefully and stood up, taking his beer with him. Halfway to the door, he stopped, back still turned to Dean. "If you do need me . . . for anything . . . you know I'm there, right?"

Dean nodded, and then remembered that Bobby didn't really have eyes in the back of his head, contrary to what the boys had thought as children. "Yeah, I know. We both know. You go do what you have to do. It's going to be fine."

Bobby continued out of the room, and Dean thought it was interesting that not thirty seconds later he heard Sam at the top of the stairs. He stood up and crossed to the refrigerator, pulling out two fresh bottles. Sitting down in the seat Bobby had just vacated, he waited for his brother.

Sam's footsteps were slow coming down the stairs, and Dean could tell he was definitely favoring the left leg, but he entered the kitchen and sat down across from his brother, picking up his beer and taking a long drink. Dean figured he probably needed the courage that would come from the bottle before their talk, so he wasn't overly surprised. He watched Sam for a moment, studying the wary expression on his brother's face.

Finally Sam made the first move, apparently uncomfortable with the silence, or else impatient to find out what he had missed, or maybe even both. "So what's going on, Dean?"

Dean had been expecting the question, in some ways even welcoming it so they could get this dreaded talk out of the way, but he still couldn't completely prevent the flinch when he heard it. He took a deep breath, going for calm. "What do you remember?"

Sam shrugged sullenly, picking at the label on his beer. He seemed almost offended that Dean had even asked. "I told you what I remember. I remember killing Bobby and Castiel, almost killing you, and then trying to jump into the cage."

The blunt words brought back horrific memories. The anguish of losing first Castiel and then Bobby; the agony that had exploded throughout his body as he lay on the hood of the Impala, barely able to see past blood and swollen flesh; but worst of all, the devastating finality when he looked at Sam and actually saw his brother looking back. "It's okay, Dean. It's going to be okay. I've got him."

Those words still haunted Dean's worst nightmares. He had known at that moment that it was all over. The world was safe, but nothing would ever be right again. And now eighteen months later here was Sam sitting across the table looking at him. He swallowed hard, choking back unwanted emotion. "Yeah. I remember that, too."

Sam nodded, appearing sympathetic. Dean guessed that he was probably remembering his own experience with losing his brother more than three years earlier. He decided it was time to get the show on the road. Taking a deep breath, he began to simply tell his story.

"You were gone, Cas fixed everybody, and we all went our separate ways. Cas is the head honcho now that Michael's gone, so he's been keeping really busy with angel stuff. Bobby went back to hunting, and I went to Lisa's. I didn't hear anything from Cas, but Bobby and I kept in contact. Things with Lisa were . . . not exactly great, but we were getting by, and at least they were happy I was there. I got a job working construction, put the Impala in storage and tried to get on with life after the apocalypse."

The last phrase of his sentence came out more bitterly than he intended, and he could tell that Sam noticed. He rushed on before his brother could say anything. "Then I realized you had been gone for a year . . . a year, Sam. I knew you were never coming back. I had tried everything I knew how to, called everybody that I thought might be able to help."

The more he spoke, the more worked up he was getting. This was not what he had intended to say, and he really didn't want to talk about it. Sam looked at him accusingly, and he forged on angrily. "Don't look at me like that. I know I promised you I wouldn't try, but did you really expect me to keep that promise?"

Sam hesitated a moment, and then spoke sadly. "No. I wanted you to, but I knew you wouldn't."

Dean nodded, realizing Sam meant that. He hadn't seriously expected his brother to just let him go, but he had felt compelled to try. Dean understood that. He sighed. The next part of the story was going to be hard to admit. "So when I realized you had been gone a year, I just gave up. If I hadn't found a way in 12 months, I was never going to find it." His eyes gleamed with unshed tears, but he blinked them back impatiently. "And then one day you just showed up."

Sam didn't react right away, looking confused. And then he looked at Dean, shock darkening his eyes. "I just showed up? Just like that? You didn't have to do anything to get me out?"

Dean shook his head ruefully. He wished he had been responsible for getting Sam out. So much would have turned out differently. Hopefully he would have figured out a way to get his brother out with all of his vital parts, for instance, including his soul. How different would the past year and a half been if that had been the case? "No, nothing I tried worked. You just appeared, kept me from being taken out by a djinn, and took me home with you."

Sam was looking more and more confused and anxious. "Took you home with me? I was living somewhere else?"

Dean was seriously starting to wonder if they should continue this discussion yet. Sam wasn't ready to hear what he had to say. But he continued reluctantly, knowing Sam would never let it rest. "You were staying with a bunch of hunters that were related to Mom. Most of them are gone now, but our grandfather is still around somewhere."

Sam looked completely bewildered by the mention of Samuel, but he picked up on the first part of the sentence instead. "Most of them are gone? Dean, how long have I been back?"

Sam's voice was rising, and Dean winced. "Don't worry about that now. So you took me home with you and wanted me to help you and our 'family' with some hunts. I decided to stay with Lisa and Ben instead, because I thought they were in danger."

He wasn't totally surprised by the next question. It was Sammy, pure and simple. "Are they okay? They're not dead, are they?"

What happened next was a surprise, and not in a good way. Sam's face want lax, as though he had suddenly gone somewhere else. Dean hadn't seen that look in a long time, but if he didn't know better he would say that Sam might be having a vision. Then his brother stood up suddenly, swaying as he grasped his head. "No!"

Dean lurched to his feet and grasped Sam's arm to steady him as his brother gripped the back of his chair tightly to keep his balance. "Sammy? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Sam looked shaken, and he replied with a tone of voice Dean hadn't heard in a long time. "Dean, I think my visions are back! This is the second time it's happened today."

That was the last thing Dean was expecting to have to deal with today, and he guessed he probably came across as helpless as he felt. "Really? What did you see?" This wasn't fair. How could he possibly deal with the fallout of Sam's visions when he was too busy being terrified that the wall would come down?

Sam sounded bewildered. "The first one was kind of obscure. It was just me doing pull-ups in a hotel room. I didn't get much. But this one was bad. Dean, we need to stay away from hunts involving vampires. One caught you, and it was either killing you or turning you, I'm not sure. We need to be careful."

No! This was almost worse than visions. If Sam was remembering flashes of what RoboSam had done, how long would it be before he started to remember more? He wasn't sure what to say. "Uh, Sam. Actually, that's not a vision you're seeing." He paused for a minute, searching carefully for the correct words. "I think you're seeing memories."

Sam pulled back in confusion, and Dean could actually see his brother's freaky brain trying to put it all together. When the younger man paled, he thought he had, but when Sam finally spoke, it took him a minute to process what his brother had just asked. "Dean, are you telling me that . . . Are you telling me you were turned? Are you a vampire?"

What? The question caught Dean off-guard, although it shouldn't have, because he knew his brother. He knew how his quick mind put things together in the way they made the most sense, and with the information Sam had, this was apparently what made the most sense. He shook his head, studying his brother with concern. Sam really didn't need to get this upset right now. "No, Sam. I'm fine." He paused, wishing he could stop there, but knowing he needed to give his brother more information than that. "Yes, I did get turned, but turns out there's a cure. Grandpa Campbell knew all about it, and I'm fine."

He watched Sam closely, waiting for him to calm himself. How had things progressed to this point so quickly? Maybe it was time to stop the Q and A for today, or at least until his brother had some food and some more rest. He just hoped he would be able to convince Sam of that. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sam wasn't listening anymore.

"Wow that was convenient. Did we know that before we went into the hunt? Was that how it happened? Did we get careless because we knew we could fix it if anything happened?" Sam's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Dean's heart sank to somewhere down around his feet. Sam had no idea that he had deliberately let Dean get turned, and he was already upset. When he found that part out, he was going to be devastated. "I think we've had enough for now. Why don't we stop and get something to eat? It's been a long time since you ate anything."

Sam shook his head, that stubborn look that Dean knew and dreaded appearing on his face. "I'm not hungry. Dean, I need to understand what I missed. The not knowing is driving me crazy."

Dean sighed and nodded. He knew Sam, and his brother was never going to let this go until he knew everything. The trick was going to be making Sam think he knew everything and letting the matter drop until Sam was stronger. "Yes, that is what happened, Sam. We got careless and I almost paid for it. But we did know that Samuel could fix it, or it would never have happened. I'm just sorry you had to remember that. It seemed like a really traumatic experience for you when it happened."

The lie made Dean sick. He could still remember the anticipation and excitement that twisted his brother's features as he watched him get turned, the evil smirk on his face. It still gave Dean nightmares.

Sam looked a little suspicious, but he let it drop. "So what else happened? How did I end up down in the panic room? "

Speaking of panic, Dean hoped that his didn't show on his face as he frantically tried to think of an excuse for Sam to have been sleeping chained to the cot in the panic room, an excuse that didn't involve attempting to kill Bobby and having his missing soul replaced. He shrugged carelessly. "That's just where you were when you collapsed."

His mind showed him an instant replay of Sam's 'collapse'. The cold determination on his brother's face, his arm raised in preparation to bring the knife down to kill Bobby, the terror on the older hunter's face, terror that Dean wished he had never witnessed. He had always thought of Bobby as being fearless, facing whatever came his way. But that look haunted him, and it was why he knew it was going to take a while for Bobby to work his way through his issues with Sam.

He didn't blame their surrogate father for the terror, since he was pretty sure that same feeling had surged through him when his brother had just watched him getting turned like it was a particularly interesting scientific experiment. He still remembered Sam's questions, asking what it felt like, curious rather than the desperation to help his brother that Dean had been expecting.

Suddenly, Sam looked startled. "Oh wait. When I had that . . . memory, you were just about to tell me if Lisa and Ben are okay. Are they?"

Like a dog with a bone. Dean sighed resignedly. He had known he wasn't going to get out of it, but he was still searching for a way to keep Sam from knowing the whole truth. "Yes, they're fine. But I started to hunt again, and Lisa was afraid that I was going to start bringing my 'work' home with me. It was really over between us anyway."

His mind dredged up Lisa's bitter words on the phone. "But I didn't expect Sam to come back. And I'm glad he's okay, I am. But the minute he walked through that door, I knew it was over."

He studied Sam closely to see if his brother was buying this half-truth version of what had really happened. And he could tell he really was. But then the kitchen door slamming brought him back to earth as Bobby, who had apparently been listening at the door, stormed back out to the garage. Dean cringed, holding his breath as he turned to look at Sam.

His brother's face held only disillusionment and impatience. He had apparently figured out that Bobby's quick retreat meant that there was something more going on. "So what aren't you telling me, Dean?"

TBC . . .