Thanks so much for all the reviews and well-wishes everyone. You guys are making writing this story a dream come true
Sam woke up screaming, hands clutching at the bedsheets as images of Dean with a knife through his stomach sliced through his dreams. His eyes landed in horror on the empty bed beside him as Becky came running in. "Where's Dean?" Sam asked frantically, getting up off the bed so fast his head spun.
"I don't know, Sam," Becky responded, staring at the empty bed. "He was here last night."
"Damnit!" Sam stared around the room in a complete panic. "What if the shapeshifters got to him? What if they took him? I-" A thought suddenly occurred to Sam, and he sprinted outside, the lack of the Impala freezing him in his tracks. "He left." Sam's words came out as a whisper, but within seconds he had spun around to face Becky. "Can I borrow your car?"
"Yeah of course," Becky answered, looking at him in confusion. "But how do you know where to find him?"
"Because he'll be driving as far away from here as possible, in the opposite direction from how we came in, because he thinks he's protecting me." Sam opened his hand as Becky threw the keys to him. "Is there a shortcut to the main road out of here?"
"If you go up Shooter Road, you can cut a few miles off," Becky said, stepping closer to Sam. "I'll come with you and show you."
"Thanks Becky," Sam said gratefully, jumping into the driver's seat of the car. As miles went by with no sign of Dean, Sam began to fidget nervously, his hands unconsciously tapping out a Metallica rhythm on the steering wheel.
Suddenly the Impala came into view, and Sam stepped on the gas, swerving around the familiar car to halt in front of it, effectively blocking Dean from escaping. Sam jumped out of the car, slamming the door and stepping up to meet a startled Dean.
"You are such an asshole!" Sam yelled, shoving Dean in the chest. Dean stumbled back, his body bumping into the Impala.
"Sammy, what the-" Dean began, but Sam quickly cut him off.
"So what, you were just going to leave me there, is that it?" Sam slammed his hands down on the roof of the car, then spun to glare at Dean furiously.
"What did you expect me to do, Sammy, huh?" Dean fired back, recovering somewhat from his shock. "Those shapeshifters are using you to get to me! Knocking you out, almost killing you! That shapeshifter you stabbed-I'm sure it was creeping up to take you out!"
"And leaving is going to help me? I woke up and you weren't there and I thought…Dean, after what happened last night, I thought the shapeshifters had grabbed you!"
Dean was about to retort, but was stopped short by Sam's unexpected words. "Sammy, I didn't think you would think that," Dean said with a sigh, leaning his back against the car. "I figured…you would just stay at Stanford with your friends, and then you could have a normal life."
"So then I would what, Dean? Forget about you?" Sam stared at Dean in disbelief.
"Well you did before…" Dean trailed off as hurt suddenly flared up in Sam's eyes.
"Dean…" Sam sighed, leaning up against the car next to Dean, looking out into the distance. "I did anything but forget about you." Dean turned quickly to look at Sam. "I worried about you all the time. Every time the phone rang I was afraid to answer it because I knew it could be Dad calling to tell me you had died."
"You did?" Dean asked, unable to keep the astonishment from his voice. "You could have called…"
"Yeah, you could have too," Sam answered, punching Dean lightly in the shoulder. "We're both pretty stubborn bastards." Sam seemed suddenly to think of something. "Ok, let me explain this in a way your version of a brain can understand." Laughing at the glare Dean gave him, Sam shifted his weight against the car.
"When you said back in the hotel that it must be nice to have people calling worried about me," Sam began, "Dean, people did call when it looked like you had died. People called me." Dean remained silent, Sam knowing from Dean's posture that he was listening more carefully than he would care to admit.
"Let me make this even simpler," Sam continued, laughing as he felt a light punch hit his shoulder. "I had three pictures up in the house I shared with Jessica, ok? One was of me with Jessica, one was of our mom, and the third one was of you and me, Dean. So what I'm trying to say is all my friends were calling me, afraid I was about to be admitted to an insane asylum after watching you die."
"Well I always knew you were crazy, Sammy," Dean said with a smile, though Sam could have sworn he saw Dean quickly brush tears off his face.
"Were you…were you crying Dean?" Sam asked, unable to keep the smirk off his face.
"No, and if you ever suggest that again, Sammy, I will beat your ass so hard…" Dean swung open the passenger door of the Impala, then walked over to the driver's seat and settled in. "Now are you coming or not?"
Sighing, Sam happily rolled his eyes at Becky. "Becky, can you drive your car back? Dean here needs some adult supervision." Becky laughed, then nodded and climbed into her car as Dean started up the Impala. They drove in silence for a few minutes before Dean spoke up again.
"Which picture did you have up?" The question was so quiet Sam almost missed it. With a smile, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a picture of him and Dean, arms around each other shoulders, the picture taken on Sam's last birthday at home. He flashed the picture at Dean.
Dean unexpectedly reached into his pocket and tossed his wallet into Sam's lap. Opening it up, Sam found the exact same picture staring up at him. Unable to stop a surprised grin from spreading across his face, Sam poked Dean in the side. "You love me…" Sam needled Dean, smirking.
Dean's response was to suddenly turn the music on, Metallica blaring through the Impala, but Sam didn't miss the smile Dean let flash across his face. "You're my stupid jerk of a big brother and I love you too," Sam said, again poking Dean in the side.
Dean slapped his hand away, then turned back to face the road. "You're my whiny bitch of a little brother and I love you too," Dean said, just loud enough to barely be heard above the music, a statement Sam would have missed if he hadn't been listening so hard to hear it.
Dean quickly cranked the music up louder, making any further conversation impossible, and both brothers sat back with smiles on their faces, driving back along the road to Stanford together.