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Chapter Three

Dean felt slighty relieved when he walked out of the coffee bar. It wasn't that he didn't like the kid – "Hell, it's impossible to not like him – he has that Winchester charm," Dean thought to himself smiling. It was just that Dean felt an overwhelming need to keep Jack at arm's length.

He knew the deal he had made was killing Sammy. Dean just didn't think it was right to get close to Jack just to up and die on him too. He had enough guilt over leaving Sammy. "Besides," Dean thought determinedly, "hopefully, after I'm gone, Sammy will quit hunting and go back to a regular life with law school and a girlfriend. He'll need Jack to help him do that so the further we can keep Jack from this life the better."

The thought of someone taking his place at Sam's side, watching Sam finally get the life he deserved made Dean's jaw clench to the point of cracking. That was the only regret Dean had about making the deal. He wanted to be the one to provide Sam with the opportunity to have a real life. If he were honest, he wanted to live down the block from Sam and have two point five kids and a dog named Tiger. And on weekend his and Sam's kids would play while the two of them shot the shit over the grill. Dean thought back to the Dginn and the life he had in his mind before forcefully pushing it away.

Dean shook his head and pushed the regrets behind the wall in his mind. Whatever he had to do, whatever he had to give up, it was all worth it. Sam was alive and that was the most important thing. If Dean resented Jack and the place he would take when Dean was gone, well, he would just have to live with that – "or not – as the case may be." He snorted cynically.

Dean was leaning against the hood of the Impala when his thoughts were interrupted but he wasn't sure by what. He had positioned himself so he could watch Sam through the window without being seen by Jack. His senses on alert, he looked around for anything that could pose a danger and then glanced back into the coffee shop window. When Sam leaned over and grasped Jack's arms, Dean's big brother alert sounded loud. Dean knew Sam's face better than he knew his own and no matter how Sam tried to hide it, Dean could see he was freaked.

Dean watched as Sam put his head down on the table. Cursing, he pulled out his cell phone, wishing that he hadn't promised to stay out of sight until Sam could get Jack to agree to confide in him. Dean drummed his hand on the hood as he watched Sam slowly reach into his pocket to pull out the phone.

He answered. "Dean?"

"Sammy, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Oh God, Dean. It's all my fault," Sam said miserably, lifting his head and looking around until he spotted Dean outside. "I did this. It's my fault." Sam's face crumbled as he met Dean's eyes.

"Screw This!" Dean said angrily, snapping the phone shut and jogging across the street to the coffee shop. He threw open the door and was seated across from Sam within seconds. "Sam, Sam, you have to tell me what's wrong dude." He said as Sam started shaking his head. "I can't help if you don't tell me."

Just then, Jack came out of the bathroom, stopping cold the moment he caught sight of the two brothers. As they turned to look at him, Jack stumbled back a couple of steps, his hand going to his head as a quiet groan came out of his mouth. Jumbled voices filled his head - Sam's guilt and recrimination, Dean's frustration, anger and worry, the curiosity of the other patrons – they all got louder and louder. Jack felt sick to his stomach again as his panic shot up another notch. Rubbing his hands over his face in an attempt to quiet the voices, Jack's face filled with horror when they came away bloody. "Oh God," he whispered, looking from his hands to his brothers and feeling their fear. Jack didn't know what to do so he fell back on human instinct – he ran.