Author's Note: This chapter was WAY longer than anticipated. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to Meggin Lane, she provided me with the inspiration to get busy writing for today. Thanks!!! Please read and review I like to know what people think!

Dean finished the first book of his life, well technically he hadn't finished it, Sam had finished it and it was one of hundreds that Sam had finished. Dean's thought triggered Sam's mind to think about all of the books that he had read in his lifetime, and Dean found himself impressed with the sheer number of volumes that Sam had completed in his life when depression crashed over him like a wave and anger and frustration rode on that wave and crushed him with its impressive weight. Sam was angry that despite all of his intelligence and all of his reading that he couldn't find a stupid solution for this damn deal.

The deal seemed to be the only thing that Sam thought about, Dean realized, and that cut Dean to the quick. Out of all of the things that Dean had done for his brother, the only thing that Sam could think about was how stupid Dean had been to make that deal, how Sam should have been dead, not because he wanted death, like Dean had when his father had saved him, but because then he wouldn't be in this situation. Wouldn't be forced to find a way to save his brother from another bout of stupidness. Dean's soul felt choked. Was the only reason he was upset was because he was in this situation? Dean was just about to probe further when the answer came to Sam's mind.

Under all of Sam's anger and want, no need, to save Dean from the deal was fear. He was scared of being left alone. Once Sam had said that he had been looking up to Dean since he was four years old, and in all honesty Dean had the vague notion that that comment was nothing but crap, but here he was in Sam's head. Sam couldn't imagine life without Dean.

"Stanford? You didn't miss me too much while you were there. Never called, never thought about me probably." Dean mumbled as he stood from the chair and looked out the window. Sam's brain answered as if it were a computer designed to answer any question posed by its master. Yesterday, on his walk, he had been treated to Jessica encouraging Sam to go outside and walk with her to blow off steam, and now he was treated to the cause of that anger. It had been Sam's birthday and he had checked his cell phone a half dozen times before noon and there was no call from Dean.

"Sam?" Jessica asked.

"Hmm?" he asked trying to look like he wasn't checking his phone for the millionth time.

"Expecting a phone call?"

"Nah."

"Then why are you checking your phone like every three seconds?"

"No reason."

"That's bull shit and you know it Sam. If we are going to make this relationship work then you need to talk to me." The beautiful blond sat down next to him and put a hand on his thigh.

"I really thought he was going to call me this year."

"Dean?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I saw a couple of weeks ago."

"What?"

"He was following me to my classes."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because he didn't want me to see."

"I don't understand."

"You would have to know Dean to understand."

She chuckled. "I would love to know Dean. I would love to know about your family period. You never talk about them."

"It's kind of hard to talk about people who have abandoned you. Told you that you are never allowed to come back because you left for college."

"But, Dean followed you to your classes?"

"Dean raised me." Sam admitted more to Jessica in those three words than he had ever admitted to anyone. "He raised me, he even dropped out of school to raise me."

"Dropped out of school?"

"Well, he doesn't think I know that, but well."

"Where was your father?"

"Who the hell knows and I really don't care. He can fall into a ditch and die for all I care today." Anger surged through his body. Anger at a man who he thought loved him and would do anything in the world for him and couldn't simply pick up the phone and call and say 'Sammy, Happy Birthday! I'm proud of you kid.'

"Screw Dean too!" Sam added in an intense burst of anger. He stood and began to pace. "I mean, what kind of family doesn't even call you on your birthday? Huh? Would it be too hard to pick up the phone and call? I don't think so. I looked up to him all of my life Jess. I wanted to be just like him! I wanted to do what he did. I expected him to be proud of me when I got into Stanford, but no, he sat there and starred at me like I had three heads when I told him and Dad. Some support and love he gave me then."

"Come on Sam let's go for a walk and cool off."

Dean was jerked out of the daydream by Bobby's call for dinner. The memory left him with a pain in his heard. Dean assumed it was because Jessica was no longer there to soothe Sam's heart but as Dean was turning to head into the kitchen, Sam's mind left him with "I shouldn't have been a stubborn ass and called him. I wasted so much time. So much time. Now here I am and I'm going to loose him."

Dean's soul was left stunned and amazed. The pain in Sammy's heart had nothing to do with Jessica it had everything to do with him. Sam's body let a tear flow freely down his face. Then the thought "Damn my stupid chick flick moments. Must look strong for Dean." Ran through his mind. Dean forced Sam's body to run a hand down his long face. Maybe Sam had just as many issues as he had. Maybe more.

Dean got to the table and found Sam washing his hands. "Working on the Corvette?" Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"God, is she as beautiful as I think she is?"

"It's a mess."

"How do you like working on a car?"

"It actually isn't too bad. You find it relaxing."

"You find reading relaxing."

"How was the book?"

"Pretty good. The first book I've ever finished." Bobby put a plate in front of each brother. "But then again, I think if I saw the picture show in my head like you do, complete with sound effects, I think I would like to read more. It's just hard for me to read. I can't concentrate." Dean said and took a bite of the carrots that he was fairly sure were going to make him gag. To his surprise he liked them. He not only liked them but he wanted more of them. "Sammy you really need to get better taste buds." Sam shook his head and tried to ignore his brother's comments.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"I want you to know, that I wanted to call you on your 20th birthday. I tried. I couldn't get a hold of you. And then, well, Dad took my phone away from me." Sam put his fork down and looked at his brother.

"What?"

"Just think about your 20th birthday." Dean didn't want to share the memory out loud. He couldn't put into words the humiliation and pain he had experienced on that day. He didn't really want Sammy to see what had happened, he was afraid that it would make him look weak and even more insignificant than he already felt he was. He kept his eyes steady on the plate. He couldn't watch the emotions play across his face as he watched the moving picture show of memories.

Sam watched as Dean became suddenly interested in his meal and wondered what could have been so bad that it made Dean not want to look him directly in the eye. With that thought he slammed with the memory.

"What are you doing Dean?" Dean remembered being just slightly frightened by his father. He had been drinking and from the looks of it, quite a lot.

"I was trying…uh…to call for pizza."

"You need to quit eating so much, son. I can't have you fat and slow on hunts." John said and took a swig of whatever alcoholic substance was in the flask. The comment had stung Dean more than he would have liked. 'I'm not a girl. Being fat should not bother me.' he had thought.

"Yes, Sir." Dean headed toward the bathroom.

"Why are you dialing the phone on the way to the bathroom?"

"I guess I didn't realize I was sir."

"You were going to call Sammy."

"Umm…" John stood in a flash and took the phone out of Dean's hands and looked at the partial number on the screen. The phone was cracked against the side of Dean's head before he knew what was going on.

"When are you going to learn that he is dead to us?" John advanced on Dean, and Dean could feel the blood running down the side of his face where his father had hit him with the cell phone. "He chose to leave us. He chose this perfect life he is leading. You aren't to call him. That is an order."

"But Dad…" John backed Dean into a corner and grabbed him by the throat tight enough to make breathing difficult.

"Do you dare disobey an order Dean Winchester?"

"No sir."

"You are not to contact your brother."

"Yes sir." John let his eldest go, keeping the phone, he went to the chair he had been in before the burst of anger and continued to drink. Dean had sat in the corner most of the night waiting for him to pass out so he could move.

Startled, Sam forced himself out of Dean's memories. He looked at his brother who was eating his carrots with interest and enthusiasm. Sam swallowed and the feeling of choking still lingered.

"He hit you?" Sam asked quietly. Bobby looked at Dean.

"He hit you boy?"

"No big deal."

"Dean…I didn't know." Dean shrugged.

"I never really wanted you to know."

"Why?"

"Doesn't make me look very manly now does it?" He tried for humor.

"Dean. I'm sorry."

"Nothing for you to be sorry for Sammy. We all make choices in our lives, and that one was mine." Dean paused for a moment, put down his fork and looked his own eyes dead on. They were filled with Sammy, and Sammy was confused and hurt. "Do you at least understand a little more?" Dean asked.

"Yes. I definitely understand you better." Sam said quietly taking in the feelings and the echo of the memory that was still ricocheting across his mind like a ping pong ball on crack.

"Good. Then the embarrassment is worth it."

"What do you mean?"

"If you have to play me, you have to understand my insecurities and weaknesses. Because whether I like it or not, that is a big part of me."

"I am so sorry that…"

"What? That you left for Stanford? That you had Jessica for those years? That you didn't have to hunt? Sammy. Don't worry about it. You did what you had to. I'm glad you did. Makes you the geek boy research partner." He said trying for levity.

"No. I'm sorry that you were treated like an animal and not the man that you are."