Disclaimer: I do not own "Supernatural." (I always get the urge to write 'duh' after these things... hee ;-))

Author's Note: Wow! and Yay! Thank you so much for your reviews! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. One chapter left-- I'll post it tomorrow (maybe even later today). Again, thanks for reviewing :D

Happy Reading!

It was one thing to be betrayed by your brother, to have the kid you'd practically raised take everything of yourself you'd given him and toss it out without a second glance.

It was one thing to be betrayed by your body, to have it insist on driving in the direction said little brother currently resided.

It was one thing to be betrayed by your thoughts, to have them repeatedly turning back to the same one thing you wanted to avoid thinking about.

But when a man's car betrayed him—that's when you knew the world was shit and it was time to call it a day.

It was almost midnight and his baby had just decided to stop. No sputtering, no smoke, nothing… just stop… on a corner. If he didn't know any better he would say that the car had, in fact, decided to stop.

He knew better though. His baby wasn't possessed. Her battery had just died… it had died in Sam's neighborhood. The neighborhood he probably shouldn't even know about let alone be driving in.

Some instincts were too deeply embedded to ignore, to avoid; and John Winchester had forged in his eldest son the compulsion to check on his little brother.

John Winchester also had no qualms whatsoever about any legality when it came to checking up on said younger son. The Stanford University database was a fountain of information concerning the youngest Winchester— grades, class schedules, off campus housing…

On every trip John had made to California in the past four years, he'd been sure to routinely inspect Sam's haunts. The place he lived, the place he worked, the buildings he took classes in—all carefully studied and investigated—just in case, to be safe.

And despite all their problems, Dean had found himself doing the same thing. He doubted Sam would appreciate finding him two blocks outside his apartment, though, that might disrupt his "normal" life.

He sighed roughly, looking around. He'd managed to roll his baby into a semi-parked state where she wouldn't be in the way, but that still left the little problem of getting the hell out of here.

Calling a tow truck was out of the question—weapons in the trunk probably wouldn't go over too well.

He needed to jumpstart his baby, he had the cables to do it—all he needed was to flag a car down for help. Apparently, though, cars were hard to find at almost midnight in this area.

Of course, there were other ways. He could always… borrow power from one of the parked cars. It's not like he was going to steal anything valuable—and it wasn't like there was anyone awake to see him do it.

He smirked a little, as he turned around and selected a parked car not too far from where he was standing. He'd just unlock it, hotwire it, move it close to the Impala, borrow the power, move it back, fix the cables, and lock it back up— no sweat… yeah, right.

With a long, weary sigh Dean set to work— fuck, this night was shit and California sucked.

"I'm telling you this is a good idea."

"The party's over."

"We still have to congratulate him."

He heard them at least three minutes before he saw them. Something he was thankful for, it gave him time to put his things away and put some distance between himself and car he'd temporarily uh, repositioned. He'd shut the hood on both cars and carefully leaned back against his baby, pulling out his cell phone and glancing at the time, noticing for the first time that it had no signal.

The people were giggling loudly and they're voices seemed to echo in the quietly, sleepy street.

"We'll get yelled at."

"But they'll feed us."

"I am hungry."

"Walk faster."

Dean continued to wait. He watched as the couple turned the corner. He'd expected them to be staggering, they sure as hell sounded drunk, but instead the couple was walking calmly, smiling at each other, holding hands.

They appeared blissfully unaware that they sounded drunk off their asses—which for some reason pissed Dean off. If you were going to sound drunk at least have the decency to be drunk, otherwise just… shut-up.

Of course, his lack of tolerance could have to do with his current predicament.

They were chattering more quietly now, having a disagreement about something if the girl's hand motions could be believed.

He drew a quiet breath and pulled up a charming smile. "Hi," he called out in his most friendly, I'm-not-a-psycho-killer voice. They noticed him then, and he nearly rolled his eyes. He'd been standing here the whole time and they'd just seen him. Hadn't these people ever heard of neighborhood patrol?

They slowed their steps and stopped talking, eyeing him warily.

He took the fact that they hadn't turned around screaming as a positive sign.

"Hello," the man said, his tone a bit cautious, but still friendly, "Car problems?" he asked, his gaze sliding past Dean to the car he was leaning against.

Dean nodded, letting a sheepish look steal over his face, "Yeah. She died on me."

The man's eyes lingered on his baby, "She's beautiful." He murmured; and Dean figured that finally something had gone right this night—someone who appreciated his baby.

The girl jammed her elbow into the guy's gut, "You're drooling," she hissed at him, before turning back to Dean.

"You call a tow truck?" she asked him, her eyes studying him.

He stood up a little straighter, the girl's eyes making him feel a little uncomfortable, "No reception." He told her, showing her his cell phone, grateful for the lucky coincidence.

"Yeah, cell reception sucks around here," the guy added, taking a step closer. Dean almost smiled, the guy was totally enamored with his baby.

He stepped to the side a little, silent permission for the guy to get a closer look. The man took another step, only to be held back by the girl.

She gave him a pointed look, then looked at Dean again, she pinned bright blue eyes on him, "What's your name?" she asked.

The directness of the question startled him a little and he responded automatically, "Dean." He answered, then almost winced, hopefully he wouldn't have to use an alias tonight.

She didn't notice the gesture, instead she nodded, "Dean, I'm Kerrie. This is Doug." She stated, simply. "We're kind of in a rush—"

"Jeez, Kerrie, can you be ruder?" Doug hissed at her.

She sent him a scalding look, "Yeah, I can." She hissed, "Let me finish." Her gaze returned to Dean and he couldn't help, but smirk. Kerrie was obviously in about as pleasant a mood as he was in—somehow that pleased him.

Misery did love company after all.

Her gaze met his again, "We have to get a friend's place—"

"The party's over." Doug interrupted.

"— but if you'll wait here, we'll give you a boost on our way back. We parked over that way." She stated, as though Doug hadn't spoken.

Dean smiled, "That would be great." He told her, and it most certainly would be great—if he were going to be here when they got back.

Which he wasn't.

Doug was eyeing his baby again, "She's a real classic you got there," he stated, coming closer.

"Yeah, my baby's usually better behaved than this," he commented, with a sheepish grin.

Doug nodded, reaching out and laying his hand on the hood of the car, "What year?"

"'67."

Doug nodded again, his eyes studying the Impala.

Kerrie sighed, "Let's go." She stated, reaching out and pulling him away. Dean almost laughed, Kerrie was clearly not enamored with his baby.

Doug turned to her a little, almost pouting, "I don't see why we can't just leave it till tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow."

"You know what I mean. Sam won't mind. He probably didn't even notice we weren't there."

"Of course he noticed we weren't there. He notices everything."

"It's past midnight. Sam's bedtime is like eleven."

"Don't let him hear you say that. Plus they're probably cleaning up."

"We'll get yelled at."

Dean vaguely registered the fact that once again Kerrie bestowed a scalding look on Doug.

Most of his energy went into reminding himself to breathe, reminding himself that there was more then one Sam out there in the world, reminding himself that he was an idiot who should know better—because it was just that kind of night.

"Listen," he interrupted, "You two go along. I'll be fine. Really…" He stated, unable to keep a certain taint of panic from his voice.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

He wasn't ready to be here.

Kerrie stared at him, "Where're you from?" she asked, again in that same direct tone.

Dean barely stopped himself from answering, clamping down hard at the last minute. Pausing a moment, he took a slow breath and then shrugged, "Here and there… I'm just passing through."

She stared at him a moment, before nodding, accepting his words.

"I'll be fine." Dean pressed, notching the smile up some, "I remember there was a 7-11 over that way. I'll just wait till sunrise and head over, no biggee." He cajoled.

"We'll give a boost when we get back," Doug stated, not at all fazed by Kerrie's heated glares, "We should be back in like twenty minutes. We're only going two more blocks that way. And we're gonna get kicked out—and yelled at." He added pointedly.

Dean told his mouth to be quiet, to shut the hell up—that he wasn't supposed to be here, but still he somehow heard himself speak, "Why you gonna get yelled at?"

"Friend threw a party tonight… we kinda didn't make it." Doug stated simply, "He's gonna pissed. It was kinda a big deal."

"Naw, Sam's gonna be fine with it. He'll just shake his head and say something Sam-like and be done with it. Jess is the one that's gonna be pissed," Kerrie corrected, she threw a smirk at Dean, "She's the one who planned the party." She explained to him.

Dean swallowed hard, willing himself to nod and let them go, but instead he heard himself asking more questions, "Party's over kinda early?" He prodded.

"Ahh, well it's not that kind of party." She said her eyes suddenly twinkling in a way that made her seem much more attractive, "It was a dinner party celebrating the fact that Sam's uber-smart."

"And that he finally got his ass into gear and proposed." Doug added.

Kerrie's smile widened, "Yeah, that too." It was obvious she was pleased about that.

Dean on the other hand felt like he'd been sucker punched.

His little brother had proposed?

Maybe it's not him.

His more naïve side whispered.

But he knew it was—it was Sammy, he knew it, could feel it and after all, it was just that kind of night.

"Yeah, so she threw this dinner party," Kerrie continued, "And we didn't come. She'll be pissed."

She took a step closer to him suddenly, "Hey, you okay?" she asked, her voice suddenly concerned.

"You look kinda green suddenly?" Doug added.

Dean smirked, using the careless shrug he'd perfected long ago, "Yeah, yeah…" he murmured, "I'm fine…"

He wasn't fine.

But he would be— if they would just leave. So that he could leave.

They eyed him in silence for a moment and Dean sensed the invitation that was about to be issued—an invitation that he couldn't accept. One he might not be strong enough to refuse.

"Go on…" He added, smiling at them now, "You don't want to be any later, do you?" He asked.

"No, we don't," Kerrie agreed, she shot Doug a look.

He shrugged, then glanced back at Dean, "Why don't you--" he began and Dean panicked.

He cut the guy off, "I'm good here." He stated, in a voice that brooked no discussion.

They both jumped a little at his tone. They stared at him a moment, before sharing a look and looking back to him.

"Okay then," Kerrie said breezily, "We'll be going."

Dean nodded, feeling a little bad that he'd snapped, but really—fuck. They were about to invite him to Sam's.

"We'll give you a boost on our way back," Doug repeated, still kindly.

Dean shrugged, "Uh, thanks…" he said lamely, as they walked past him… past him—towards Sam.

They were going to see his brother…

"He's pretty happy, then huh?" He heard himself ask, "This uh, Sam guy—with his fiancée and all?"

They turned back to him, eyeing him strangely a moment, before Kerrie answered, "Yeah…" she said, "Sam's golden right now. He's got it all."

Dean swallowed hard, "Good. Good. People, should uh, be happy." He trailed off.

Again they stared at him and he knew he deserved it—he was behaving like a lunatic.

"Yeah, yeah… they uh, should," Kerrie stated, obviously humoring him.

Doug chuckled, "World peace and all that." He murmured.

Dean forced a chuckle and watched as they turned headed up the block, watched as they turned the corner, watched as they went to congratulate his little brother on his upcoming wedding.

He reminded himself yet again to breathe; reminded himself that it was to be expected—after all, that is what "normal" people did.

It didn't help though. It didn't diminish the shaky feeling that was spreading through him or the shallow breaths he was drawing or the stinging that had materialized behind his eyes.

Sam had proposed to someone. He was getting married. He was going to belong to another family…

The realization stung, burned even— stripped away all the lies and left behind nothing, but a lone stranger stalking the steps of someone he once knew.

With a nearly audible snap and a determined turn towards the Impala—away from the street— Dean shut down all thoughts of his little brother.

Focusing instead on re-hooking his baby to the other car, he needed to be gone by the time those two came strolling back down the block.

Fuck.

He hated California.