The worn leather of the Impala's front seat creaked in protest as Sam settled his weight on it.

Although Dean kept the classic car in tip-top condition, there was no getting away from the fact that she was as battle-worn as he and Dean themselves.

Sam reflected fondly on how the Impala had gone from this enormous black car he remembered as a toddler to one into which he now barely managed to fit his tall body. Even for his brother, the Impala was every bit as cramped, but that was something Sam would keep to /

Dean loved the old muscle car so much that any criticism belittling it would be badly received.

The practical part of Sam's mind told him that the car was past its prime. The engine guzzled gas like nobody's business and despite Dean's loving and attentive maintenance, the truth was that the Impala had been in multiple crashes and was once a complete write-off. For all her courage and spunk, she was no longer the ideal vehicle for their work.

Sam's heart, however, danced to a different tune.

Whereas not as vocal as his big brother about his love for the car, he did feel a strong attachment to it. Besides being the one true place he'd called "home" for most of his life, the Impala had been his only comfort throughout all the times Dean had been taken from him. Just the lingering scent of 'Dean' infused into the seats and trimmings had given him the strength and hope of finding his brother again.

:

:

He thought back to Broward County and the six terrible months searching for the Trickster or the traumatic weeks after Dean was dragged to Hell by the hounds, leaving Sam to bury his brother's torn and bloodied body.

Even the months he'd been with Amelia had been peppered with long hours just sitting behind the wheel of the car, and to this day he was confused as to why he'd acted as he had back then, giving up on Dean when he could have been searching for him.

At times he wondered if someone or something had been affecting him, a curse or a spell cast by those who wanted to keep the Winchesters apart. Or maybe he'd just mentally shut down, having finally reached his breaking point, unable to cope with hope followed by disappointment yet again.

He'd probably never know for sure, so the only thing he could do was imitate Dean's philosophy and push all Purgatory-related events into the depths of the pit that contained his unwanted memories and lock them down.

He knew his big brother had been hurt by his abandonment back then but all Sam could do now was to demonstrate how much Dean did mean to him so that there would be no doubt in the older man's heart.

Sam was aware that Dean considered himself to be worthless. He hated it when his big brother put himself down. It made Sam angry and sad at the same time because it wasn't true. Dean was special.

The words Sam had once said to him years before, "You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you" were branded into Sam's heart and would be forever. And they weren't just words. Sadly, after the whole Purgatory debacle, Dean no longer seemed to fully believe that, but Sam was determined to prove to him that it was as true now as it had been then.

Though he and Dean were different in many ways, their love for each other was an unbreakable bond that could never be severed.

Sam's lips curved into a quirky grin at the thought of Dean's reaction if he vocally expressed the love he felt for him. Dean would no doubt come out with a list of adjectives as long as his arm about how girlie, emo, and Disney princessy Sam was!

:

As they left the last few out-buildings of Lebanon at their back, heading home to the bunker, Sam's mind brushed everything to the side, his attention turning to something entirely different.

It was rare that Sam felt fully satisfied with himself, yet he couldn't deny the warm feeling in his gut as he thought of the young girl Magda. Her family had treated her as a freak because of her psychic powers, believing they were of demonic origin.

She'd been kept prisoner in the basement for years until Sam had set her free, encouraging her to accept herself and her powers, explaining that he too had possessed the same abilities and that they could be kept under control. She had no need to be afraid.

In all honesty, Sam wasn't going to deny that the good vibes he felt for helping Magda were linked to the fact that he'd seen her as a reflection of himself, and in liberating her, he'd somehow liberated himself too.

Although her situation hadn't been completely similar to his own, there were enough details to make it close enough.

She had psychic powers, much like those Sam had once possessed. She'd been freaked out by them just as Sam had by his own. Her family had been upset by them just as Dean had by his. Moreover, Sam had felt even more drawn to the young woman because he'd shared with her details he'd never brought up with Dean, preferring to sideline that part of his life completely.

In fact, he'd never mentioned his powers again, steadfastly ignoring the few times Dean had thrown out an off-the-cuff comment about 'psychic boy' or something equally flippant.

:

Stealing a glance at his brother, Sam couldn't help but notice that Dean was unusually quiet, his eyes fixed on the road.

In this case, Sam didn't need psychic powers to guess what his sibling was brooding about.

If Sam was reminiscing about Magda, he was one hundred percent certain that Dean's thoughts were occupied by those of his mom. The reappearance of Mary Winchester had taken them completely by surprise, but it was Dean who was most affected.

As if their lives hadn't been complicated enough, Amara had thrown in another wild card, one which, Sam sighed, they really hadn't needed.

:

Sam realized he was being unfair in thinking about Mary Winchester in less than warm terms, but although he understood she was his mother and he should love her unconditionally, he found it impossible to whip up instant affection for a woman he'd heard about his entire life and whose death had traced out the future of his dad, his brother and himself, but of whom he didn't possess a single memory.

It wasn't the same for Dean. His big brother did have memories, albeit those of a four-year-old, and the love for his mom had been hands-on and tangible. Dean still remembered the warmth of her hugs and the comforting sensation of being the object of her attention.

Perhaps over time, he'd come to love Mary as Dean did but Sam wasn't going to lie to himself, the bond he had with Dean, nurtured and strengthened during the hardship of years, occupied most of his heart and soul, leaving only a tiny speck for any other type of relationship.

He stole another glance at his brother but Dean's face was set in stone, no music was blaring from the car's speakers, nor did Dean seem inclined to talk, so Sam returned his thoughts to Magda. When Dean was in silent mode it was better to leave him be until whatever was torturing him passed.

::::::::::::::::::::

When it happened, neither brother was prepared!

A huge harvester, its tires so large as to top the Impala's roof, veered onto the tarmac from one of the fields alongside just as the car took a bend in the road.

Horror filled Sam's eyes as he caught a fleeting glimpse of the flaming red monster of a vehicle bearing down on Dean's side of the car. If it hit the Impala, his big brother would be crushed to death in a mangled embrace of flesh and razor-sharp steel.

As soon as Dean realized what was about to happen, he slammed on the brakes and tried to swerve, but it was obvious there was no way he'd be able to avoid the impending collision.

There was no time to react, no time to think, no time to do anything but that which Sam did, though it wasn't until it was over that Sam even realized just what he HAD done!

Instead of plowing full speed into the Impala, the harvester stopped dead as if hitting a wall, bare inches from the car's side window, the thrashing blades practically brushing the glass.

For an interminable moment, there was silence, time eking out the seconds as if they were hours until Dean's voice filled the air with a loud curse. "What the fuck! " he yelled, white-knuckled hands gripping the driving wheel, his foot still jammed down on the brakes.

He turned his gaze to his brother. "What just happened Sam? That thing should have crashed right into us. Why didn't it?"

Sam could feel his jaw hanging open, a sensation of terror gripping him.

:

He wanted to answer Dean's question but he could feel his entire body tremble, both at what the answer would signify and from the aftermath of the release of power that he'd felt burst forth from his mind.

For the moment, all he could do was stare back at his brother, eyes wide with shock.

By this time, the harvester's driver had exited the vehicle, scampering around the hood of the Impala to knock on the passenger window, peering inside. "You all right in there?"

The glass muffled the man's words so Sam quickly rolled down the window, concentrating on the man's voice to ground himself. "We're good, " he mumbled. "We're good." /p

"Don't know why my machine stopped when it did but it was surely your lucky day," the guy continued, scratching confusedly at his cheek.

Closed in as he was by the harvester, Dean couldn't get out of the car and Sam reckoned that it was the farmer who was lucky for by the look of rage on his brother's face, nothing could have saved him from tasting Dean's fist, but the older Winchester had to content himself with yelling.

"Fuck you, dude. You gotta be careful with that monster. Rolling onto the main road without stopping to see if a car is coming along. I've got a good mind to sue your careless ass."

"I'm really sorry, son. I was on the phone with my wife. I wasn't paying attention but there's no need to bring the law into this." The farmer's cheeks had paled to white as he apologized profusely. Having a pissed Dean Winchester eying you as dog-kill would scare the crap out of anyone.

Sam could see that Dean wanted nothing more than to get out of the car and beat the dude to the ground.

He gripped Dean's arm squeezing it. "Let it go, Dean. There's no point in making a fuss. We're okay and that's all that matters."

Dean's eyes met his and Sam could read the anger and confusion in them.

It wasn't just the fact that Dean had escaped death by harvester or that the Impala could have been flattened to a pancake, killing them both. What he saw in Dean's gaze was preoccupation, for Dean suspected what had happened and he was running scared because of what it meant for Sam.

:

Why Dean should have jumped to the conclusion that the accident had somehow been avoided thanks to his baby brother, Sam wasn't sure but maybe Dean was more psychic than either of them gave him credit for, or maybe he was just super in tune with all things 'Sam' because he'd almost instantly put his finger on the cause of their good luck.

After more profuse apologies, the farmer climbed back into the cab of the harvester and reversed into the field.

Dean took a deep breath and turned to his brother. "You care to explain that, Sam?"

"Dean…I…uh..."

"Nope, " Dean sighed tiredly, holding up a hand as if to protect himself from the truth of what had just gone down. "Never mind. Save it until we get home, Sam. This day's already sucked balls and I need a drink. or five before we talk about what just happened. "

Dean gazed into his brother's eyes, "And it was you who stopped that thing, wasn't it?"

At Sam's nod, Dean pursed his lips, slipped the car into drive, and headed for the bunker.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The drone of the out-of-date machinery which supplied the bunker with light and energy was all that could be heard as Dean poured himself a glass of whiskey and dropped onto a chair opposite his brother in the little kitchen.

Sam took a moment to study him. Dean was pale, the smattering of freckles lightly powdering his features. His big brother looked tired and Sam's heart went out to him. He didn't want to be the one to place another burden on Dean's shoulders. But then, when did the Winchesters ever catch a break?

"Well Sam, " Dean sighed. "Just when my day was already as enjoyable as a werewolf tearing me to shreds, you decide to make it a thousand times worse. So, how long? How long have you been keeping this psychic stuff a secret?"

Sam shuffled uncomfortably on the chair. If Dean's expression was anything to go by, his brother was pissed.

"I haven't," Sam replied defensively. "What happened back there was as much a surprise to me as it was for you. I…don't know what to say other than I saw that harvester coming right at you and my only thought was I had to stop it before it hurt you."

The expression on Dean's face was indecipherable. "Sammy, we're not talking about moving a cup a few inches along a tabletop like some party trick. That was a ten-ton vehicle you…uh…stopped with your mind. You'll forgive me if I'm fucking worried about what's going on with you."

Passing a hand through his unruly hair, Sam averted his eyes. "I wish I had an explanation, Dean but I don't. I was convinced my powers had gone after Lucifer was freed from the Cage."

"You never tried to use them again?"

Sam shook his head. "No."

Studying his brother, Dean could see the sincerity in Sam's eyes and believed him. But that just led to more questions.

"So why now? " Dean asked. "Though I'm guessing the hunt we had with that psychic girl might have something to do with it. Am I wrong?"

"I don't know, Dean."

Sam pushed back his chair and began pacing, anguish in his voice. "I thought I'd left all this freaky stuff behind me and now it seems that it only took talking to Magda to have it all flare up again."

"Sam, calm down! " At the sight of Sam's obvious despair, Dean's attitude changed completely, all his frustration draining away, replaced by his 'look out for Sammy' mode.

He got to his feet and grasped Sam's arms. "Look at me, Sammy. It's okay. We'll figure it out like we always do. It doesn't matter to me if you have horns growing out of your head, you'll always be my tight-assed little brother."

Seeing the unfettered affection in his big brother's eyes, Sam offered a watery smile. "You're always there for me Dean. I don't know what I'd have done all these years without you having my back."

It was as if the very air around them became charged with emotion.

"We watch each other's back," Dean replied, his eyes raking his baby brother's face, one he'd gone to hell for and if necessary, would again.

"C'mere." Dean pulled Sam into a hug, the younger man's face nestling into the curve of Dean's shoulder.

When they embraced it was as if their batteries were recharged, the knowledge that each would always be there for the other unconditionally, being the only security in their fucked up lives.

"I didn't thank you for saving my ass today, Sam, even if it was due to your freaky powers," Dean murmured before the brothers moved apart with a mote of regret at the loss of contact

Now that Dean saw that his brother was calm again, he sat his ass back down on the chair.

He had no idea what Sam was capable of doing with his psychic abilities. Dean only remembered him having visions, and that one instance of shoving a heavy armoire out of the way when Sam believed Dean's life was in danger from Max Miller, but strangely enough, Dean realized that the action of stopping the harvester with his mind was not the thing that had freaked Sam out.

His brother seemed more upset by the return of his powers in general.

Sooner or later Dean would get into all the details, he'd make sure of that. To protect his baby brother in the best way possible, there couldn't be any /

As for Sam's newfound abilities, they didn't matter. Dean knew nothing could ever affect his love for his baby brother, however negative it might be./p

Draining the last drops of whiskey from his glass, Dean felt calmer. His bad day was getting a little better.

:

Just then, the door to the bunker clanged open and Mary Winchester entered.

"Don't tell mom, " Sam muttered from across the table.

Dean raised an eyebrow in agreement. Although Mary was their mother, they weren't ready to share everything with her, at least not yet.

:

"Sam, Dean."

"In here, mom," Dean called out.

Mary appeared in the kitchen doorway, her arms filled with bags of groceries.

"I thought I'd get some supplies in. Have dinner together tonight," she smiled. " Get to know each other a little better."

Sam expected to see an answering smile on Dean's face at their mom's light-hearted words but the older Winchester's expression was once again bone-weary.

"You don't have to, Mom, " Dean replied, staring up at her. "We're not kids who need a treat before being given the bad news."

"Bad news? " Mary echoed, not meeting her son's eyes.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Dean stated.

Mary looked up then, eyeing her grown-up children with a guilty expression.

"I suppose there's no point in denying it. Yeah, I need some time on my own. To get my head around all that's happened, you know. Coming back from the dead is kind of a 'unique' experience."

"If that's what you want, " Dean declared flatly, "fine. But we can skip the 'treat' part. I'm not hungry and it's been a long day. I'm off to bed."

Before Dean got up, Sam caught a glimpse of the sadness and disillusionment in his brother's eyes. His sibling had always feared abandonment and now his mother was about to do just that.

:

As Dean exited the room, Sam glanced up at Mary.

His gut was telling him that she too had secrets hidden away, and Sam guessed she wasn't going to share them with her sons anytime soon.

There was an awkward silence before Mary addressed her youngest. "I didn't mean to hurt Dean's feelings," she began. "All I'm asking is for some time on my own to work through everything I'm facing."

Sam studied this stranger, for to him she was.

His mother, sure, but he hadn't grown up with her, didn't remember her caresses, nor any gentleness of her touch. He'd liked to have known her better but his instinct was telling him he never would. You couldn't make up for the missing years with a superficial knowledge of each other.

In a way, he was glad she was leaving.

For Dean, at least, Sam hoped that 'out of sight, out of mind' would work.

But he didn't say any of this out loud.

"It's fine, mom," he exclaimed instead. "I realize that you need some time to process everything. Dean will be…" He hesitated. "...We'll be okay." /p

"Thanks, Sam. I'm glad you understand. Well then," she shrugged. "I'll go grab my stuff. There's a motel nearby. I should go now."

Sam wondered at what was wrong with him and Dean that everyone wanted to get away as far as possible from them, but a part of his heart, the selfish part that wanted Dean forever by his side, rejoiced.

:

Regarding his newfound abilities, they were something he'd never wanted nor desired, but he was older now, no longer the young scared kid he'd once been, and if his powers could help protect Dean from the dangers they faced every day, then Sam was no longer going to deny them.

"You didn't need a feather to fly, Sam!" a smirking Ruby had said to him back in the Convent years before.

Maybe it was time to take to the skies!

The End