Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

A/N: Thanks for reading over it for me, mimishell—as always! Maybe you'll actually read this one—LOL!

Chapter 29: Degrees of Truth

He looks like shit warmed over, was all Sam could think when he opened the door to his older brother and his sister.

"Hey," Dean murmured, offering a pale version of his usual smirk as he stood awkwardly in the doorway, Aubrey partially hidden behind him, and though Dean's usual smart-ass expression was missing, Sam felt all of his nervous energy melt away at the sight of his older brother.

"Hey, Dean—it's been awhile," Sam told him with a soft smile, and as though that was all he needed to hear, Dean stepped forward and pulled Sam into a bear-hug, slapping him on the back heartily before stepping back with a grin.

"It's damn good to see you, Sammy," Dean told him.

"You, too, Dean," Sam said, feeling as though everything was right in the world again, for the first time in two years. Sensing that Dean felt embarrassed by the sentiment, Sam knew well enough that he was going to have to break the developing chick-flick moment or risk Dean shutting him down. "Dude, I've gotta say, you look like shit, man. You okay?"

"Just tired, Sammy, just tired."

Frowning worriedly, Sam stepped back from the door, gesturing them inside as he turned his attention to Aubrey.

"Hey, Aub," he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair, but she stepped away, staring up at him with a wounded expression before darting around him, heading straight away for Braden.

Oh.

Watching his little sister turn away from him hurt more than Sam had ever thought it would. He watched silently as Aubrey dropped to her knees beside Braden, silently guarding her brother, who'd fallen asleep stretched out on the floor in front of his artwork, steadfast in his refusal to let Sam anywhere near the glyphs and sigils that framed the doorway.

"Just give her some time, Sammy. She'll come around," Dean told him softly, squeezing his shoulder briefly before glancing over at Aubrey.

"What if she doesn't?"

I just wanted to do something with my life, something besides hunt. I didn't want this. I didn't want to ruin things with my family.

"Dude, this is Aubrey we're talking about, not Dad. She's just…hurt. She didn't exactly handle it well when you left and never called. I mean, yeah, she adjusted, seemed okay, but…seeing you again...like this…I think it just kinda hit her suddenly."

"I didn't want to hurt her, Dean," Sam began, but Dean shook his head.

"Intent doesn't change the facts, Sammy."

"I thought maybe you were mad," Sam mumbled, feeling very much like the guilt-ridden little boy who'd had to confess to numerous childhood infractions, not to his father but to his older brother. "That's why I didn't call," he finished, glancing down at the floor sheepishly.

"Maybe I was at first. But you know I've never been able to stay mad at you, Sammy—you're my pain-in-the-ass little brother," Dean said simply, a half-smile on his face before he turned away to look past Sam. "That shit's still pretty damn impressive, isn't it?" he commented, eyeing the doorway with an admiring gaze before turning to Sam with a smirk. "How the hell did he manage to do all that? You're gettin' sloppy, little brother."

"He was napping," Sam said defensively, "and Jess was in here studying—I thought she'd hear him if he got up…he's gotten quieter about it, I guess."

"Told you to keep your eyes on him," Dean said with a smirk.

"Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean retorted, a relaxed grin taking the place of the smirk. Sam returned the smile, enjoying the simple moment for what it was—a return to a simpler time, before things with his family got so complicated.

I can almost pretend nothing's changed.

But when Dean's gaze sharpened on something behind Sam, he turned, suddenly reminded that things had changed. He held out his hand and Jess stepped forward from the kitchen doorway, placing her hand in his. He gently tugged her forward, bringing her to stand up beside him.

"Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica. Jess, this is my brother Dean. And that's my sister Aubrey on the floor down there."

"Hi, it's nice to meet you," Jess told him with smile, holding her hand out for Dean to shake, which the older Winchester took with a charming smile.

"Yeah, I've seen you around," Dean said casually, and 'oh shit, Dean, don't tell her that' was all Sam could think, even as Dean continued. "It's nice to finally meet you in person," he continued flawlessly, flashing that patented Winchester smile at her despite the frown that was starting to appear on Jess's face.

"Wait, how could you have seen me around? Sam said—"

"It's complicated," Dean said abruptly, cutting her off, and though the smile on his face remained, Sam could tell it no longer reached his eyes.

Subject closed.

"So yeah, I guess we'd better get going," Dean said, the smile slowly melting off his face as he turned to face Sam.

"Don't go," Sam wanted to say. "I want my family back." But he didn't know how to say it.

"But you just got here," Jess interjected, casting a friendly smile at his older brother. "You should stay! Besides, it's getting late—it's going to be hard to find another place to stay."

C'mon, Dean, go for it. Say you'll stay.

"Sammy, Dad's a couple of hours behind us, but he's gonna want to meet up with us as soon as he hits town. And I don't think I'm wrong when I say you probably want us gone before then."

"I'd like you to stay," Sam murmured, his issues with his dad seeming less important now than they had two years ago.

I'd rather have an awkward reunion with Dad than have you and the twins walk out the door right now. I want my family back.

It was as though having them with him suddenly made their absence over the last two years become painfully apparent, and Sam didn't want them to leave anymore.

"So, you'll stay then?" Jess asked, her eyes going back and forth between them for a moment before settling on Dean expectantly.

"Uh, you sure you've got room for all of us?" Dean asked, eyeing Sam as he tried undoubtedly to give Sam one last chance to back out. Sam gave Dean a slight nod, even as Jess mistook the question for one aimed at her and answered.

"Sam's smart—I'm sure he'll figure something out—that's why I keep him around, you know," Jess replied playfully, smiling a smile that Sam was well familiar with as her I-know-I've-won smile.

"Ha-ha," Sam told her dryly, pretending to be offended, but really, he'd already figured out a solution. "We have a couple of air mattresses, and the couch is a fold-out."

Okay, so it's not the most comfortable couch…but we've slept on worse in the past.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Dean asked as Jess went to look for the air mattresses, and Sam could see in his eyes that what he really meant was, 'You sure you're okay with Dad coming here?'

"Yeah, I'm sure."

I'll play nice if Dad does.

"Alright, if you're sure," Dean said with a careless shrug, dropping onto the couch with a tired sigh as Sam watched. "So, why are you still standing there? Go grab our shit from the car, Jeeves—I don't pay you to stare at me like a dumbass."

"You don't pay me at all," Sam retorted, enjoying the chance to banter with his brother.

"Yeah, you're right—I totally don't. But since you're standing anyway, you can still go get our shit from the car. 'Cause there's no way in hell I'm hauling it up three flights of stairs. You should have gotten an apartment on the first floor, Sammy. I thought you were smarter than that."

"Yeah, well, you try finding a cheap place on the ground-level and then we'll talk," Sam told him with a laugh. "Throw me the keys, asshole."

With a grin, Dean dug the keys out of his pocket and tossed them to Sam, who caught them easily in one hand before heading for the door with a good-natured smile.

"Just grab the overnight bags, Sammy—don't worry about the large duffels," Dean called after him, and Sam nodded, relieved that he at least wasn't going to have to carry the huge-ass duffels up three flights of stairs. John Winchester had trained them long ago to have a small set of bags for those one-night motel stays.

"Saves time," he'd always said. "It's strategically stupid to offload every damn thing we own in the middle of the night just to haul it back to the car the next day. Besides, you never know when we're gonna have to get outta town fast." Sam could still hear his father's voice lecturing him and Dean when they were younger, his deep voice seeming to echo in Sam's ear. "Pack one smaller bag for overnight, boys—and don't fill it with a bunch of shit, either. Change of clothes, sleep gear, and a toothbrush is all you need."

Guess Dad's obsessive-compulsive need to micromanage everything comes in handy on occasion.

As he started out the door, he could hear Jess asking Dean if he was hungry, and all Sam could do was laugh at his brother's eager reply.

Some things never change.

As he came off the last stair and stepped outside, a bittersweet feeling went through him at the familiar sight of the Impala, gleaming in the light from the streetlamp nearby. Flashes of lightning in the distance were enough to tell him not to dawdle, the storm system that had been sporadically popping up obviously once again moving through the area. Hoping he wasn't going to get caught in a flood of rain while he was outside, he inserted the key into the trunk, lifting it up to reveal an accumulation of the duffels, pillows, shovels, car stuff, and junk his siblings managed to amass.

Slobs. They're all slobs, he thought, eyeing the mess with a grimace. And as completely anal as Dad is, you'd think he'd have Dean trained to keep things at least semi-organized. Sighing, he started shifting through the pile, quickly finding Aubrey's small pink camouflage bag as well as Braden's dark orange camouflage bag, the only things in the trunk that weren't matte black, army green, or gunmetal gray. As he slung them over his shoulder and dug around for Dean's bag, which wasn't nearly as conspicuous as the others', he suddenly sensed a presence behind him.

Shit!

Dropping the bags, he whirled around, only to see Aubrey standing close to him, staring up at him solemnly.

"Dammit, Aubrey, you scared the hell out of me," he griped, leaning down to pick up the bags as he turned back to continue the search for Dean's one-night duffel. She didn't comment as she stepped up beside him soundlessly, propping her hip on the Impala's back bumper as she watched him dig through the contents of the trunk.

Come on, Aubrey—don't be like this. Help me out here.

"You could help, you know," he muttered, hoping she'd play along, act as though things between them had never changed.

Even though they have.

Sam wasn't often one to just sweep things under the rug rather than talk about them, but in this case, he was willing to pretend nothing had happened. But again, she didn't comment, and as he glanced at her, he couldn't help but worry that she was taking a page out of Dean's book and adopting a policy of selective mutism.

"He's tired," she said softly, and Sam frowned.

"What?"

"Dean. He's tired."

"Yeah, he looked it. Driving from Seattle—"

"No. He's been tired for a long time—longer than just last night."

"Oh."

"It's because you weren't there anymore. You weren't there to help," she told him bluntly, and Sam winced. "You left him to do everything on his own, and he's always sad. Or angry."

She's not pulling any punches, is she?

"Aubrey—look, I'm sorry, but…I've gotta live my own life. I'm not a kid anymore," he told her softly. "I want a life outside of hunting. And I know it probably hasn't been easy for you guys, but you're still a family. You still have each other, and you've still got Dad."

Wish I could say the same.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked him sharply. "I mean, seriously. C'mon, you know as well as I do that Daddy leaves all the time. D's been tryin' really hard to take care of everything like he always does, but things are different now," she told him, shaking her head as the anger melted away to be replaced by a quiet helplessness. "Bray's up all the time now, and Dean can't do it all anymore, and it's not fair, Sam," she told him, her voice breaking even as she struggled not to cry in front of him. "What about Dean? Doesn't he get a life, too?"

And Sam reluctantly had to admit that it had simply never occurred to him that his older brother might want something more for himself than hunting. To be honest, Sam was feeling downright guilty for never considering the one person who mattered more to him than pretty much anybody.

But too bad things aren't any easier now than they were two years ago, he thought ruefully.

"Aub, you know I'd do anything for Dean, but coming back isn't something I can do right now. Even if I wanted to leave all this behind tomorrow, I can't. You know Dad—he meant it when he told me not to come back."

"No, he didn't. Ya'll were just fighting again like always, and you and Daddy both say stuff you don't mean when you fight. It's stupid, Sam. All of it."

"Look," he told her with a sigh, unwilling to acknowledge that maybe she was right and the grudge he'd been carrying had all been meaningless, "it's water under the bridge now. I'm sorry things are rough, and I'll help however I can. But I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?"

"Fine," she replied curtly, jerking the key out of the trunk and moving around to the passenger side door without looking at him. Reaching into the backseat, she emerged a second later with a familiar hamster cage, and Sam tried for a smile, hoping he could coax Aubrey into something resembling a friendly conversation.

"How's Bones?"

"Bones died four months ago. This is Lucy," she said bluntly, obviously not going for it, so with a sigh, Sam went back to digging through the trunk. The wind picked up, whipping Sam's hair into his face as he shoved more of Dean's junk aside to reach for the small, nondescript bag that Dean used as his 'one-nighter.' Aubrey was waiting for him by the door to the building, but Sam didn't kid himself that it meant anything more than Aubrey not wanting to be alone.

When he finally shoved the trunk closed and moved towards the building, she stayed only a few steps ahead of him, preceding him into the apartment building without a word. They made it inside just in the nick of time, as thunder rumbled ominously behind them, and lightning streaked across the sky. Ahead of him, he could see Aubrey shiver, but much to his surprise, she didn't hang back to walk beside him. Instead, she sped up a bit, never out of earshot, but far enough ahead that Sam knew she didn't want any comfort from him.

You used to, though. You used to come to me first when you were scared.

The fact that she'd rather seek comfort elsewhere was a bitter pill to swallow, and with a sigh, Sam followed her up the remaining stairs. By the time he dropped the pillows and bags on the sofa, Braden was sitting up cross-legged in the floor across from Aubrey, and Sam could tell from the heavy silence and the beseeching look that Braden was casting in Dean's direction that he was interrupting what had been the start of some heavy family drama.

"What's going on?" Sam asked slowly, his eyes darting back and forth between Dean and Braden, instinctively knowing that Aubrey was only an observer this time around.

"Nothing," Braden said hastily, glancing at Dean with a pleading look before he turned to face Sam once again.

"Braden, if you want me to leave so you can talk to Dean alone, just say so—don't play the bullshit game with me," Sam told him, not sure whether to be angry or just hurt. He'd never taken well to being left in the dark, but he also knew that Braden wasn't the sort who would open up if he didn't want to.

He gets that from Dad, that stubborn-as-hell, pain in the ass silence. Dammit.

"Okay," Braden said with a careless shrug. "I want you to leave so I can talk to Dean," he finished bluntly.

"Dammit, Braden," Sam said exasperatedly, dragging his hand through his hair. "Hasn't this family had enough with the secrets already?!"

"Hey, I gave you a chance to listen to me—you didn't want to hear it. So don't bitch at me now 'cause you suddenly wanna be back in the loop," Braden retorted, giving Sam a cold look that was unmistakable.

"You weren't even making any sense, Braden! You just kept saying we couldn't stay here. Cryptic much? I mean, what the hell!?"

"You know what, Sam? Fuck you. Seriously. I'm not talking about this with you anymore."

"Bray," Aubrey murmured, casting an indiscernible look at Sam before looking back at Braden. "Maybe you should tell him everything—Sam's good with the hard-to-find stuff. Maybe he could—"

"No."

"Sammy."

Sam looked over at the couch to see Dean nodding towards the kitchen door.

Is he serious? Is he actually asking me to leave?

"Dean—"

"Sammy, you know as well as I do that Braden's not gonna talk with you in here, and I need to know what the hell's going on. So do me a favor—quit bitching, and go into the kitchen with your girlfriend."

Fine. I'll do that. I'll just have to eavesdrop at the door.

Without another word, Sam pushed the door to the kitchen open, letting it swing shut behind him, content in the knowledge that he'd be able to hear quite easily so long as they didn't talk in low whispers.

"Oh, hey, is everything okay?" Jess asked, casting a look at Sam over her shoulder from where she stood at the stove.

"Just the usual family drama that never seems to end," Sam muttered, frowning as he watched her stir something in a pot on the stovetop. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm just warming up some of the leftover soup for Dean. I asked him if he was hungry, and he said he could eat, so…"

"Jess, if you learn nothing else about Dean for the rest of our lives, you should know that Dean is always hungry. Unless he's sick or hurt, he'll always say he can eat."

"Gotcha," she said with a grin. Now that the door had stopped swinging, Sam turned his back on Jess and stepped up to the door soundlessly. "Sam, what are you doing?"

"Eavesdropping."

"Sam," she started, her voice admonishing, but Sam cut her off, trying to hear over the shifting in the other room.

"Shh," he whispered, his brow creasing as he caught the low murmur of Dean's voice, vaguely aware of her coming up behind him.

"Alright, he's in the other room—we can hear him talking to Jess," Dean said bluntly. "So cut the bullshit and start talking, Braden. You might want to start with why the hell we're here."

"I was doing it again, D—I fell asleep in Seattle and woke up here. I don't know what's going on, but all I know is that I needed to come here," Braden told him earnestly, but Sam had to wonder if Braden was really telling the whole story. He couldn't put his finger on it, but some gut feeling told him that Braden was holding something back.

"Why? Why do you think you needed to come here?" Dean was asking, his voice demanding as he squared off with Braden.

"I just did."

"Dude, you're the one that just told Sam you wanted to talk to me. You didn't tell him to take a hike just to feed me a load of bullshit. And to be honest with you, I'm pretty damn sick of it. Now you need to level with me here."

"D—" Braden began, and Sam knew from the tone of his little brother's voice that since an outright lie wasn't going to work, he was about to do his damnedest to simply evade the issue. And obviously, Dean picked up on it as well, because he cut Braden off before he could even get started.

"No. No more evasions, no more excuses, no more pretending everything's all fucking sunshine and daisies. You tell me the truth now."

"I…well…when I sleepwalk sometimes…well, it…I can remember some things."

Still avoiding the issue. He's gonna give you half-truths, Dean, Sam thought, the stilted way in which Braden was answering enough to clue Sam in to his younger brother's less than complete truth. He's distracting you—giving you just enough to hopefully steer you away from further questions.

"What kind of things?"

There you go, Dean—keep pushing him for more. He might slip and reveal something…

"Um…not much. Impressions, mostly. Like, right before I came here, I uh…I remember feeling this…um…drive…to look for signs."

"Signs? Dude, what the—"

"Look, the how isn't important right now."

The hell it's not, Sam thought, his eyes narrowing as he focused in on that bit of information. Something tells me the how is exactly what's important right now—what are you hiding, Braden?

"The signs, Dean" Braden continued, "the signs are all here—something's coming! I tried to tell Sam, but he wouldn't listen!"

"Okay, back up a minute. What signs are you talking about?"

"The power outages, the freak storms coming out of nowhere, the ground drying up—and if there were cattle around here, they'd be dropping dead by now. I'm tellin' you, something's coming."

Finally, a completely honest answer. Still, there's more to this than just that.

"Do you know what it is?" Dean asked, and Sam could almost hear the sound of his older brother's brain trying to map out the problem and a solution.

Could be demonic, Sam thought, considering the list of phenomena that Braden had described. But then again, it could just be coincidence. Droughts and storms happen, and storms can cause power outages—that kind of shit happens all the time. No cattle deaths. Nevermind that it's been perfectly safe here for years. Factor in that there's nothing here to attract the demonic and you're left with the only possible answer: sheer coincidence. Braden's just freaking out over nothing.

"No," Braden admitted, pulling Sam's attention back to the conversation. "But I know we shouldn't stay here. None of us. It's not safe here. Please, Dean, you gotta talk to Sam. He won't listen to me, but he'll listen to you."

Listening for Dean's answer, Sam jerked when Jess put her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.

"Okay, Sam!" she hissed, her expression making it more than clear that though she disapproved of his eavesdropping. "It's wrong to eavesdrop, but now that you did it—and I totally joined you—I'm really wishing I hadn't, because whatever the hell they're talking about—it's seriously freaking me out. You need to start talking. Now."

Shit.

"Look, I really don't know much more than you do."

And that's not really a lie …It all depends on the intent behind the question, and since you weren't really asking me about the shit that I know but instead asking me about the immediate situation, it really doesn't qualify as a lie, just an omission of certain facts that I do know.

Unfortunately, Sam's logic didn't seem to occur to Jess, because she clearly wasn't buying it.

Dammit, Jess.

"Nice try, Sam. But since when do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Okay, something is going on, but you heard as much as I did. Braden's at the root of it, and he's not talking to me."

"Well, clearly," she retorted. "But what do you think is wrong?" she asked, glaring back at him stubbornly, even as she cast a worried glance back at the door.

"I don't know. He's scared about something. He's not being all that forthcoming with specific details—I can't make sense out of any of it."

Nothing you would find acceptable or believable anyway.

"Sam, none of this is making any sense."

"I know," he murmured, casting an apologetic look at her before he turned his attention back to the door, hoping he hadn't missed Dean's reply, but after a few seconds, Dean heaved a heavy sigh.

"Dean?" Aubrey prompted, speaking up for the first time since Sam had left the room. "What do we do?"

"Let's just hang tight until Dad gets here. If he says we go, I'll talk to Sam."

"Well, when's that gonna be?" Braden asked, impatience coloring his voice. "Look, can't we just go ahead and try to convince Sam to come with us for a few days? If he'll come, then Jessica will, too."

"No. We'll wait for Dad."

"Dean—"

"We're done, Braden," Dean said, putting an end to Braden's protests in no uncertain terms.

Sam wanted nothing more than to barge back into the den and let his brothers know in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going anywhere. But he didn't, because it wouldn't change anything. With an annoyed shake of his head, he stepped back from the door, almost knocking into Jess, who stood at his back with a pissed off expression that Sam knew from past experience didn't bode well for him.

She was just about to speak when the door swung open from the other side and Dean walked in with a cocky smirk.

"'s the food ready?"

"Just about," Jess told him, throwing a hasty smile in Dean's direction, even as her eyes promised a forthcoming interrogation.

Or maybe just a big argument, he thought, knowing well enough from that look that Jess had reached her quota for piss-poor excuses and evasions. No doubt she'd managed to hear just enough to be confused as hell, and she was going to want answers, Sam knew, answers that he wasn't sure he was capable of giving.

"Finish this, Sam—I'm going to look for sheets for the couch," she told him tersely, passing him the spoon and brushing past him on her way out.

"Trouble in paradise, little brother?" Dean asked when the door swung shut behind her.

"Nothing I can't handle," Sam replied, wishing he felt half as confident as he sounded.

"You sure? 'cause judging by the looks she was giving you, I'd say it was a pretty sure bet that your ass is toast, dude. If we weren't here, you'd be sleeping on the couch."

If you weren't here, it never would have come up.

But he didn't say that. Instead, he put his back to Dean and occupied himself with stirring the soup. Lifting a spoonful, he carefully tested the temperature, deciding to give it just a few more minutes.

"So where do you keep the salt?" Dean asked, and Sam was about to point towards the table where the saltshaker lay when Dean continued. "We need to lay lines tonight."

Oh hell no. That's all I need—Jess asking more questions that I don't have answers for.

"Dean, we can't lay lines."

"Why the hell not?" Dean demanded, and even though Sam's back was to his brother, he could almost feel Dean's gaze narrowed on his back.

"Dude, Jess is already starting to ask questions—if we start pouring salt all over the place, she's gonna be relentless. Not to mention she'll think we're all certifiably insane."

"So wait. You're tellin' me that you've been living with this chick all this time, and you've never laid a damn salt line? Please tell me you're shittin' me, Sammy," Dean said, his voice dropping as his ire grew.

"Look, it's not a big deal—"

"Not a big deal?! It's fucking dangerous, Sam! You can't do shit like that—you get complacent, and you leave yourself wide open for anything. What the hell's the matter with you?!"

"Keep your voice down," Sam hissed, glancing worriedly back at the door, but Dean shook his head, his eyes heated.

"You're laying lines tonight, or we're gone. You wanna put yourself and your girlfriend at risk, I can't really stop you. But I'll be damned if I'm gonna put the rest of this family in danger because you're too afraid to accept reality."

"Dean, don't do this."

"You gonna lay the lines or not?"

"I'll do it after Jess goes to sleep," Sam mumbled, knowing he'd have to concede on the issue or his brother would do exactly what he'd said: he'd leave.

I'll just have to sweep it all up before Jess wakes up in the morning.

"Make sure that you do."

With a sigh and a growing headache, Sam let it go and spooned some soup into a bowl for his brother, setting it down in front of the older Winchester.

"So, uh…new hamster, huh?" he asked, well aware that it was a completely lame way to start a conversation but needing something to cut through the awful tension that had come between them.

"Dude, don't remind me. Mini hell-beast," Dean muttered, shaking his head angrily before pointing a finger at Sam. "I know I said it about the last two or three or four—whatever—but seriously, this one really is evil. I still can't believe Dad let her get another one of the damn things."

Speaking of Dad…

"Hey, listen…d'you call Dad, yet?" Sam asked him after a few moments, watching silently as Dean spooned soup into his mouth.

"Yep. Called him while you were digging shit outta the trunk."

"What did he say?"

"Said he'd be here in a couple of hours. Dude, you better hope Jessica goes to bed soon, 'cause if those salt lines aren't out by the time Dad gets here, you can bet your ass you're gonna hear about it."

"Yeah, I kinda already thought of that."

Dammit.

And suddenly, the reality of facing his father for the first time since their fight two years ago suddenly hit him. And it scared the shit out of him.


A/N: The 'mini Hell-beast' phrase came from StoryTagger—she graciously told me I could have it, so thanks to her!

StoryTagger: Thanks again for the usage of the aforementioned phrase! Hope you liked how I used it!

iVans: As excited as you are to get my chapters, I'm just as excited to get your reviews—they always make me smile. I'm trying to keep Jess's exposure to the 'Winchester Weirdness,' as you called it, slowly. But she's going to get exposed in a big way in the next chapter, so stay tuned! Thanks for the review! Looking forward to hearing what you think of the chapter!

eggylaine: So how did I do with the reunion chapter? Sam chapters are proving a bit difficult for me—it's harder for me to get into his head now that he's older, so I've been questioning myself more than usual the last two chapters. I hope the 'reunion with the family' stuff was worth the wait—John's going to show up in the next chapter, so stay tuned, okay? Thanks for the review!

Sammyluvr83: So glad you liked it—I'm trying my best to keep Jess in the story. I don't want to have to kill her off! Thanks for the review!

DrifterFanatic92: Glad you're still loving the story, despite the long, annoying waits between chapters. Oh, and don't worry—Sam's going to stick around for the foreseeable future! Thanks for the compliment and the review!

rholou: Jess is really hard to write, seeing as how she only appears in, like two episodes. Fleshing out a character like that is a real pain—a lot harder than just creating a character of your own. So thanks for the compliment about my version of Jess! And thanks for the review!

Jenmm31: Glad I could make your wish come true! Yeah, Sam's going to be sticking around (barring some freak, unforeseen circumstance). Thanks for clearing up the confusion about chapter length—this one is a bit shorter than usual, but I needed to switch POVs before I went any further, so I had to cut it at twelve pages. But it works, I think. Anyways, hope it was worth the wait! Thanks for reviewing!

Phoenix07: I know what you mean about not having much time to review—I've been terrible about reviewing lately. Glad you've kept up with the story anyway! Hope you like the chapter!

Bunty: THANK YOU SO MUCH, BUNTY! I was so glad to read that you liked Sam's POV and thought I had his 'Stanford voice' down really well—I was actually pretty worried about it, because I've discovered that adult-Sam is much harder to write than fourteen-year-old Sam. This chapter wasn't much easier, either. I'm just hoping I managed to keep it together for this one, because I couldn't make anyone else's POV work for this chapter. Anyways, thanks again!

PRACK: So Dean made it back into the chapter—and unless something changes in the next little while, the next chapter is Dean-centric. Oh, and I'm trying really hard not to kill Jess—I like her, too! She'll only die if I absolutely cannot make anything work with her alive. But as of this minute, I have no intention of killing her off. Thanks for the review!

Boyparts: Your pen-name is incredibly amusing—heehee! Anyways, I'm glad you found the story and that you're really liking it! I always get really excited when I see that I have a review from someone I haven't heard from before, because it means I'm still picking up fans, even though I'm almost to Chapter 30. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

jade1056: I'm sorry I make you wait so long for an update—you make me feel all warm inside when you say things like, "this is definitely my favourite story of all time." You really know how to brighten a person's day, you know. Anyways, thanks for the compliments and for taking the time to send a review!

zuimar: Yeah, I'm totally stretching the Braden mystery out for all it's worth. I try to keep dropping hints every now and then, but mostly I'm holding out for a little while longer. I can't really give you an estimate as to when it will be revealed, mostly because I don't really know at this point. I've sort of just been letting the story write itself. Anyways, hope you liked the Sam and Dean reunion—I was trying not to get too sappy. Let me know what you think!

saberivojo: You signed up for an account on the site just for me? Awww, that's so sweet! I'm so glad to read that you like John, even though he's a bit 'growly' sometimes. Some people don't like him much—my own beta calls him an 'ass' more often than not—LOL! Anyways, thanks so much for the review! I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

stoic81: Wow, you read all 28 chapters in one day?! That's awesome, and it makes me smile! I hate to break it to you, but I have sort of long waits between chapters (about 2-3 weeks sometimes). Which is longer than I'd like, but I write long chapters, and it takes awhile to generate that much material. Okay, that and the fact that some chapters are just a bitch to write. LOL! I'm glad you like Aubrey—I'm gonna do a poll sometime on LiveJournal to see how many people like her and how many don't, because I'm curious. Heh. Thanks for the compliment about my handle on Dean's character—he's my favorite character, so his voice and his chapters come a little easier for me than the others do. Sorry you're not liking Jess too much. She's a hard character to write, since she wasn't in the show long enough to get a true read on her. I tried to put myself in her position when I wrote a lot of it—I figured if some strange kid started sleepwalking and drawing freaky shit all over my wall, I'd be a little upset, not to mention freaked out big-time. Maybe you'll come around to liking her later crosses fingers. Anyways, thanks so much for the review!