BANG.

Wincing, Mildred swore inside her head, then pinched the spot water stung at.

"Red, five-oh."

Quickly, she gave a couple more swipes of the disposable razor over her leg to finish the job, rushing to turn the water off and hop out. She could hear the noise of grabbing stuff outside of the bathroom. Yanking her hair back, she snapped a ponytail around it into a messy wet bun. Which was going to suck later. More a tangled mess of curls of younger years rather than the waves of now she preferred dealing with.

"Hurry up. Dean's been spotted outside. A couple of officers. "

Grabbing her change of clothes, she dressed in a hurry, sparing a glance at her leg—glad to find there was no blood trickling—and to the upper part of her chest in the mirror. Faintest bit of color. Fine. Not like she'd have time to do anything about it if she had to right now.

Past her frenzied hurry, a thought struck her.

"Wait."

She yanked the bathroom door open and went to the window, peeking through the curtain gap. Her forehead hit the window with a loud thunk.

"Red, what are you doing, we got—"

"It'd deputy Jaffe. And his partner. I gave them one of Bobby's cards." Mildred's head rolled along the windowpane, hazel eyes going to Sam. It's not like Sam knew about those. "A card for our boss. To what Dean claimed we were while here. Look. They're just chatting. I'm going to go fix my hair."

"Really? Are you sure?" Sam stepped up behind her, pulling the curtain a bit farther open to look for himself. In time to see Dean walking away, a large paper bag swinging at his side, a cup holder in the other hand. "Huh. Wait. Bobby's got what? Cards? For federal marshals? That was plural. What else?"

Mildred just turned from the window and smiled. Torn between impressed and appalled, Sam stared. She shook her head at him.

"Unless you think up a way to make the loose hunter community a legal business or government based operation, that's the closest any hunter can be taken seriously as experts in what they do. Even harder when most people think this kind of stuff is the stuff of stories. We'd practically have to become the Men in Black."

Sam chuckled. Fondly. "I remember that. I helped you write up an entire thing after we watched that. Dean got pretty into it too. But then Dad… Hey! That's an idea. I'd be able to help with legal stuff, read through and work out that sort of thing. The idea isn't that crazy. There've been a few officers who've tangled into hunter kind of cases. I'm sure we could get together the right kind of people to make something official out of what hunters already do."

She paused on her way back to the bathroom. Mildred had said it, used the reference of Men in Black, but that hadn't been on the forefront of her mind. That had been done for fun years ago. Got really into it with what they'd all wrote down and worked out details. As much they could at 14 and 18. She hadn't really thought about that for years. After all, it was silly. Off a comedy movie. To get that working in real life was not going to easy. If at all doable.

Still. There kind of was an organization through the Roadhouse and Bobby. Maybe it wasn't so crazy.

"You gave them one of Bobby's cards?"

Mildred rolled her eyes at the irritated complaint, glancing over a shoulder at Dean. His entrance came with a scowl and a side of delicious smelling food. "You're welcome. Not a real five-oh you terrified Sam with."

"And before them, I got stopped by this old wrinkly grouch. The owner of this place. Both him and the deputies all interested to know how finding Dad was going. You said Dad was a federal marshal?"

"No. I said something along the lines of the job you do ran in the family. They came to that conclusion themselves." She turned her head back to the bathroom, speaking away from Dean as she undid her hastily made bun. "Made your attitude more forgivable, so again, you are welcome. Jaffe had a face of ready to call you out and bring you down when you were walking away. In this case, I'm pretty sure your 'high and mighty' authority act was going to blow up on you. So, yes. Y—"

"I'm welcome, I got it. Thanks. As an offering…"

Warmed at the thanks, she ducked her head down, fingers toying with her hair rather than combing through it. A couple seconds passed. And Mildred turned around all the way, curious at Dean's pause filled with crinkling.

Dean finished digging around in the paper bag, grinning broadly as he held up the prize. "Got'cha extra buns, Red."

"Gimmie." Eyes lit up, she dashed over and snatched the small box from him, prying it open to find four steaming buns inside. She took a big whiff. "Nice."

"I know. I'm awesome." Dean shook the large bag, smirk broad. "Fancy pasta dish with shrimp included."

"Awesome," she agreed and conceded easily. No arguments from her.

Grabbing a hold of the edge of one of the desks, Mildred dragged it closer to the bed, setting it up in front of the end. Shoving a bun into her mouth, she moved back around to pick up the chair to set it on the opposite side of the desk. Motioned to Dean to set the food down, swallowing her bite of bread, hand shifting the bun for another bite.

"What about your hair?"

Mildred waved a dismissive hand at Sam, taking the time to chew and swallow. "It'll dry. Got to eat while it's hot."

"Yeah, Sammy. Priorities. Got to eat it while it's hot."

"It's Sam," he grouched back uselessly. Sam was already over at the desk, pulling the top of the paper bag further open, peering inside. "What'd you get me?"

"Meat." At Sam's glare, Dean rolled his eyes and reached inside of the large bag to pull larger boxes out. One placed close to Mildred. The next near Sam. "A large grilled chicken salad. With strawberries. So mind Red's hands."

Mildred meet Sam's glance to her and made her eyes wide, silently pleading. His mouth twitched and he glanced down to the small box she held. Mildred sighed and handed over one of the buns. Together, from opposite sides, they sat beside each other on the end of the bed, cracking open their boxes. Sam waited to tuck in, letting Mildred reach in to pluck out a few of his strawberries, munching on her shared bun.

"Right," Dean drawled at the pair. Then promptly ignored them to dig out the last box out of the bag. He slid into the desk chair, opening up his meal box before him with undisguised glee. "Which means best for me. The bacon cheeseburger. With steak fries. Don't even with the eyes or sneaking some off my plate, here."

Drawing out a single fry, he dropped it into Mildred's pasta box. "One for little Millie and one for Sammy." And dropped one into Sam's salad. "So neither of you two mess with my delicious meal."

"A greasy meal."

"I'm sorry, what was that? You didn't want to match Red and keep that fry? Oh, gross! It had your fruity vinaigrette on it!"

Gagging—and overplaying it—Dean quickly rushed to snag one of the large drinks from the cup holder and slurp half of his down. Mildred and Sam shook their head at him. Both fought smiles.

"Should have had my camera out."

Dean's green eyes snapped up to Mildred. "I'll get one of you, just you wait Red."

Sam snickered. "Good luck. And Red loves the candid shots."

"Oh, I am full aware. But I will figure and find out what picture I can take that will finally get her." Eyes narrowed, Dean popped a fry into his mouth, chewing harshly. Swallowed and glanced away for a moment. Mildred frowned, pausing from raising another forkful of pasta to her mouth. Attention back to his salad, Sam missed the change until Dean spoke again.

"So, Sam. You and Jess have a picture up of me at your place?"

Startled, Sam's head jerked up, eyes wide. Dean wasn't looking at him. Instead, Dean was eyeing his burger, shifting it in his hands.

"Uh, yeah? Why? What about it?"

"Well, it's just… You've not really wanted to be connected to hunting."

Sam's brows furrowed. "What's that got to do with—"

"That's a huge part of my life. This. What we did together these past 24 hours."

Dean shifted the burger, eyes pointedly not looking up from it, going silent.

"Dean." Sam set his fork down. "What is your point? I don't see the connection here."

Mildred could. Underneath the desk, she placed a light hand onto Sam's knee, then pulled away. Confused at the light touch warning of 'remain calm' and 'listen', he stared over at her. Searching her face for a clue. Then, to Dean.

Their older brother swallowed, heavy and hard, eyes raising up to look at Sam.

"Sam, I am a hunter. We're all hunters. At least raised that way," he tagged on when Sam opened his mouth. Probably to protest. Dean's eyes flickered to the side for a moment, pained. "I get it, all right? You don't want to be part of hunting. That you're serious about being a lawyer. And Jessica. Fine. But hunting is part of me. Part of Red. Part of you. Does Jessica know? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam's jaw clicked shut. A hand fell to his lap, touching where Mildred had touched before. Then gripped his knee tight. "No. She doesn't know."

"Well, that's healthy," Dean scoffed. "I thought you were serious about her."

"I am," Sam hissed through clenched teeth.

"You have my picture up at your place. Sam, I'm a hunter."

"Yeah, well, you're also my big brother. A real jerk right now, but you're family."

Dean's grip tightened on his burger, ketchup sliding out the sides and plopping into the box. "Am I? Because I remember our argument winter before the last. Sam, I can get it. I'm not Red with rah-rah support about it, but I can get it. Not wanting to be a hunter. But man, that's who I am, that's who we all are in how we grew up."

"And how we grew up wasn't right, it wasn't normal, Dean!"

"Damnit, Sammy! Save it on the judging and arguments! It's a simple fact of how we grew up! You know, not wanting to be a hunter, doesn't equal cutting it and everything attached out of your life! I remember how our visits went before that argument. What caused the argument. No mixing between worlds. Hunting, and family, completely cut out from your new safe little world. Damnit, Sammy. That's my whole damn world."

Dean sucked in a slow steadying breath.

"So. It sucked. But I could live with knowing how you were through Red. Her visits to you. While I… Maybe I'm reading into it, maybe you just want to keep up the pretense of normal, but you have a picture of me up at your place? Almost like you want me there. For Jessica to ask. Possibly know. To let me, and everything I am, into your new world. And I…"

Silence fell. Heavy. Speechless, Sam stared across the table, visibly rattled at hearing the anguish in Dean's voice. Dean swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bouncing, dropping his burger and scraping his chair back. Clearing his through of any roughness, he gestured to the door.

"I'm getting pie. Diner didn't have any. Gunna see if I can find some."

Shoving the desk back, Mildred raced across the room, dashing in front of the door. Eyes reddened, Dean stared at her, stunned. Mildred lifted up her jaw.

"Oh no. You started this chick flick moment. And I am not playing the game of telephone between the two of you again. Now. I know you and Sam wind up misunderstanding each other often, conflict will undoubtedly happen between you two, but talk to each other. You've made it clear you've missed him. Sam has made it clear he has missed you. Both of you walling up and running on scared about the whole stupid ordeal of facing each other. One grand match of a wanker and wank stain! You march back over there, I got Sam to listen to you—mostly—so now you'll do the same in return."

Dean blinked. One foot stepped back. And stopped.

"Suddenly, I think I might be regretting you living with Bobby."

"I don't," Sam snipped. His voice lowered dangerously. "And you better not either, Dean."

Dean squawked, spinning furiously at Sam. "I'm not!"

"You just dislike Red's new backbone aimed at you."

"No," Dean replied mutinously. He slumped his way over to the chair, spinning it around on one leg before sitting on it backwards. And muttered. "She's not wrong. Usually isn't. Just…way more fed up Bobby about it. I was expecting idjit to come outta her mouth."

Eyes flicking over to Mildred blocking the door, Sam looked back to Dean with an agreeing nod. "Yeah. But which one of us is the wank stain?"

As one, they straighten up, eyes wide. "You are!"

Eyes going up to the ceiling, Mildred shook her head. That was what they choose to focus on? Her choice of odder insults? She'd only used those because they were the first matching ones that popped up into her head in the heat of the moment. Sue her as a kid finding the odder ones she came across in movies and books as far more memorable and worth using. Like neither of her brothers failed to laugh at one she picked up from a girl who grew up on a dairy farm. Son of a monkey spank was far more hilarious than Dean's preferred 'son of a' version.

"So, uh…"

Sam hesitated. The plowed in.

"Dean, I didn't offer a place to crash just for a place to crash. You know that, right? Uh, seriously though, don't actually crash into my place like you did the other night. It's not that I don't want you around. It was only…"

Dean raised an eyebrow, leaning back and waiting.

"You always brought up the job at some point during your visits. And it, I was terrified that if you asked, I might go back. I wasn't trying to cut you out. I'm not Dad," Sam added aggressively. Then sunk back in the bed a bit, looking away from Dean's sharp gaze.

"I just… I worked hard to get to college. I worked hard to stay there. I worked hard to get the most out of it. I worked hard to get close to people outside of the family. Because I was so used to keeping a distance, us always coming and going, it was difficult to actually let myself get and stay close. It still gives me trouble," Sam admitted. "Struggle with it."

He turned his face back to Dean, earnest and fierce. "I worked hard for everything after Dad told me to stay gone. Me. All my hard work. And it could all disappear. Like every other time I started getting comfortable at a school. Because, yeah. I did grow up that way Dean. It's part of why I choose to become a lawyer. I spent the first year trying to work out what I wanted to actually do outside of hunting. Thought seriously about the medical field. But I went with lawyer. Same reason for both. To help people."

Dean's face slacked at the words. Mildred nodded from the door, not stunned or surprised by it. It should not have been a surprise. But somehow, for Dean, it was one.

"So I was terrified that if you asked, I'd wind up helping on a job, possibly lose everything I worked for. I wasn't trying to make it seem like I didn't like or want you. Just the hunting part. Because." Sam licked his lips. "I was trying to…protect everything I'd worked for. To keep it safe."

Brows furrowing, Dean shifted in his seat. "You left Stanford and helped us with this case."

"Because you asked. And Red. Dad's an asshole, but he was possibly in trouble. You two asked for my help." Sam shrugged helplessly. "You're still family. It was more about that than Constance and her kids."

He huffed, shaking his head with a laugh, breaking up his serious sincerity with humor. "And Red guaranteed I'd be back in time."

Dean grumbled, scowling and making an offended face at that point.

"And yeah. That's part of my struggling." Sam lowered his head, refusing to look at Dean. Choosing to speak to his grilled chicken instead. "Flirting around the edges of wanting to open up to Jess about…about things I've done, things we grew up doing. I…I don't like pretending or lying or playing off things. Not with her. But I don't want to ruin things between us. And it's not really a door you can close back shut once it's open."

"Like trying to shove toothpaste back into the tube once it's out?"

"Uh." Bewildered at the example, Sam goggled up at Dean rather than his food. "Yeah? Yeah, kind of like that."

Dean tilted back in the chair, arms holding onto the back of it as he stretched back with a grin. "You don't remember. Oh, I'm so telling your Jessica that story from when you were a kid."

"What story?" Pale faced and wide eyed, Sam looked terrified by what the story contained.

"Nothing bad." Dean waved concerns off. Sam didn't look at all consoled by that. And Mildred was trying to figure out what possible story about toothpaste concerned Sam. Toothpaste? She moved away from the door, glad her brothers had each had a chance to talk. And filled with curiosity.

"Just embarrassing and adorable. You guys were, what? Like three or four? Oh boy. You cried and bawled over that empty tube of toothpaste. Oh man. You panicked. Dropped your toothbrush and squeezed the tube when it fell. Went everywhere. Kept crying at me to help you fix it, to put it back in. You screamed when I tried to joke to make you laugh instead of cry. What's even better is what Red did."

Dean shot a grin over at Mildred. "You wandered off, then came back with a pair of scissors and a Band-Aid. Chopped off the end of it, then started scooping it up into the tube, before handing it over to Sam for him to stick the Band-Aid on. I ended up wiping and washing off the rest of the mess in the bathroom, but it finally stopped any crying about it. Except."

He snorted.

"What?"

"Do I want to know?"

"The two of you kept insisting on only using that one. It was hilarious. I had to carefully undo the Band-Aid and squeeze a new tube of toothpaste into the thing so itty bitty Sammy wouldn't go off about it being thrown away. Little Millie here even named it. Dumpty. You two were adorable."

"Dumpty? Like Humpty Dumpty?"

Dean rolled back on his heels, pure amusement radiating. "Yep! Ah. Shame Red hadn't hit her obsession with cameras yet. At least not to the point of us having one on hand. That would have been a good picture."

"Yeah." Sam's voice was dry. "A real shame."

"Hey." Jabbing a thumb up to his chest, Dean leveled Sam with a stern look. "Big brother. I'm supposed to tell embarrassing stuff to all your friends and girlfriends. Red can tell only so many tidbits that curious Jessica Rabbit may want to know. I remember more about when you were real young."

Sputtering, Sam managed to finally speak, face a mingling of embarrassed red and furious red.

"Don't you ever say that to Jess's face! Never say that again!" A shiver rolled up through his body. "Just…just. No, Dean. You hear me?"

The smirk was slow, but it was all mischief. "Roger."

Sam's realization to Dean's meaning lead the pair into another squabble. The night grew later, meals finishing up underneath sibling bickering and teasing and remembering things of the past. Stories brought up, most dismissed by Sam in telling to Jessica, but all spoken of with high emotions. At some point, the television was turned on. It went ignored by conversation. Time passed with ease. None of them realizing how late it was until Mildred realized the television was airing a bad infomercial. Still enjoying the company of each other, it took nearly an hour after changing and settling into sleeping arrangements for there to finally be silence.

All three siblings fell asleep smiling.