Thanks to everyone for the reviews - especially a guest's rather frantic demand that Dean keep his ticker in his chest; nice to know my fic reduces someone to capslock ;)


Years ago...

When Dean finds the plane ticket, he's not sure what it means. It's stashed away in Sam's car, hidden in the glove box with the deed to the house and everything else Sam wants to keep safe and hidden. It's above Amy's birth certificate and underneath the worn prenup with thumb marks and dogged ears and all the signs that someone has been pouring over it with shaking for the past few months, alone in this very car.

At first, he tries to rationalize it; maybe Sam couldn't swing a two-way ticket. Maybe it was some kind of present from Jess, or they just all bought tickets separately for a vacation (in the middle of January?). He tries to hide it away, bring it up later, but before he can stuff it back where it came from, Sam comes out of his house. Dean sits in the car, window rolled down, staring at his brother.

"I was looking for the keys."

Sam's panicking. Dean can tell. He recognises the way Sam licks his lips and forces himself to stick his hands in his pockets casually. He can see the cogs turning in Sam's brain - maybe Dean doesn't know what it is. Maybe Dean didn't see.

Dean opens the door and gets out of the car. "What the hell is this?"

"Dean, listen, it's not-"

"No, shut up, Sam. For once in your life be straight with me. What the hell is this?"

Sam's eyes flicker to the ground, resigned. "It's a plane ticket, Dean."

"To Canada? In the middle of January? One-way? Hidden away in your car-" he stops.

Sam purses his lips and nods.

Dean's fist tightens around the ticket, crumpling the edges. "Sam…" he says, warning in his voice, but Sam cuts him off, sudden vigor flaring in his eyes.

"You know what, Dean?" he snaps. "Eat me. You don't know-"

"I don't have to know! You have a kid, Sam!"

"She's not-!" Sam shut his eyes tightly. "Don't bring her into this, okay?"

"What, you think she's not already involved in this? You're her dad, Sam, and I won't let you abandon her!"

"What if we hadn't grown up with dad?"

The question catches Dean off guard. "What?"

"Would it be better?" Sam asks, his smile bitter. "Being put in foster care? Knowing a bunch of meaningless people don't really care about you one way or the other - or knowing the one person who should care about you doesn't?"

Dean is silent. The words make an impact. For what feels like the longest time, he stares at Sam unrelentingly, the anger and shock in his face plain; then before he can think, he snaps, curling his hand into a fist and hitting him.

Sam reels. He falls back, just barely catching himself. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't have budged; but this was Dean. Tears spring to his eyes.

Breathing hard, Dean collects himself as he stands over his brother. "Damn it, Sam," he growls a little shakily. "She's your daughter. If you can't care about her, who can you care about?"