CHAPTER 30

Dean pushed Sam down onto the bed. "Take your shirt off. I want to check your shoulder."

Obediently, Sam removed his shirt, moving slowly. His shoulder was stiff.

Dean examined the healing wound, nodding in satisfaction. "Bobby did a good job." Rewrapping Sam's shoulder, he said awkwardly, "Sam, listen. I'm – brother, I'm sorry."

Sam swallowed hard. "Me too," he answered¸ voice shaking a little. "Dean, I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't want to leave you. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I just – I had to get out."

Dean felt again the familiar pain of the night Sam left for Stanford. He tried to hide it, but Sam saw and grabbed his hand. "It wasn't you, Dean. You have to know that."

"It's okay. I know," Dean said huskily. He cleared his throat, tried to smile. "Decision time, Sammy. What do you want to do?"

"The cops aren't gonna go away, Dean. They think –"

"Screw the cops. I need to know what you want to do. Do you want to go back to Stanford?"

"No. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to." Sam's eyes flared, hardened. "I've got unfinished business with that yellow-eyed son-of-a-bitch."