April 7, 2006

From the front door, Sam took in the sight of the Impala in the driveway, his brother buried under the hood. He could easily imagine the circumstances that had lead Dean to come here to their parent's home for the pre-trip tinkering rather than doing it at his place. He flushed lightly, embarrassed that it had taken him so long to pick up on the pattern in Dean's visits at school and his domestic problems.

The annual Winchester brother's post break, Kansas to Cali road trip was now in its fifth year. Truth be told, Sam loved them as much as Dean did. He would arrive back at school refreshed and relaxed, just the right mindset for diving into the hard work ahead. Dean could be a pain in the ass once they'd arrived and he needed to buckle down to his studies, but Sam had to admit, having his brother there to force the occasional break on him and save him from burn out had been a good thing. Be all that as it may, things had to change, for Dean's sake.

Summoning his resolve, Sam squared his shoulders and crossed the yard to where Dean was working and happily humming "Ramble On". "Hey, Sammy," he called over his shoulder, hearing Sam's approach, "hand me a three quarter's crescent, wouldja?" With a mischevious smirk, he continued, "That's the one with the little three, and the little four."

"I know what a three quarters is, Dean." Sam sighed, handing it over.

"Sure you do." Dean joked. He was in a good mood. Sam hated to ruin it.

For a moment he considered letting it go. Maybe they could do this one last trip and he could find the right time on the road to let Dean know that this would be the last one, give him a whole year to get used to the idea. He liked that idea better himself. Dean wasn't the only one that had been looking forward to the trip.

He remembered the call he'd just taken from Brenda. "Just wanted to make sure he got there safe...tore out of the driveway like a Duke's of Hazard re-run...no, don't tell him I called."

No, Sam decided, just like a band-aid, all at once, get it over with. "So, Dean," he bagan hesitently, "I was thinking, maybe I should just fly back to school this year."

"Sammy, you know I'm not a good flier." Dean answered, wrestling with a stubborn bolt. "Look, if this is about last year, I promise, I won't play Highway To Hell more than three time in a row, OK?"

Sam inhaled deeply, "No dean, I mean, well you've got responsibilties here. We're not kids anymore, and," here we go, "maybe it's time for me to go to school without my big brother to hold my hand."

BOOM

Dean went still. With each secend that dragged past Sam felt more that anything Dean might say would be better than the pregnant silence. "Um yeah, OK." Dean said at last. "You go ahead and hop a plane, and I'll be out in a couple of weeks, you know for your birthday." The false casual tone he tried to present did nothing to hide his hurt.

"No Dean, that's, I mean..." a lump rose in Sam's throat. He really didn't want to be doing this. "I think it's better if we..."

"You don't want me coming at all. Is that it?" Dean cut him off, finally pulling himself out from under the hood and letting Sam look him in the eye.

Oh great, Sam thought, of course Dean would take it that way. "Oh god Dean, of course I want you there, but it's time to start figuring out, we don't always get everything we want. Dad needs you at the garage. Brenda and Johny need you to...well, they just need you. You need to stop living your own life part time trying to look after me...and I need to let you."

"Yeah, whatever." Dean mumbled, slamming the car hood harder than was necessary. He turned to stalk off, intent on raiding the cooler. At least the beer wouldn't go to waste.

Sam grabbed him by the arm, "Dean, stop it! You know what? You don't get to do that. You don't get to just walk away from this. Look, you've been there for me my whole life, and I appreciate it, I really do, but now it's my turn to be there for you. You could build something really good for yourself here, if you would just do it. I will be fine, just like Dad said, just like you said five years ago."

"Wow, you were actually listening." Dean snarked, jerking his arm out of Sam's grasp. "I'm surprised."

Sam refused to take the bait. "Yes, I was listening, and you know what? You were right. I don't need..." He clamped his mouth closed. No way, "I don't need you to take care of me anymore." would have gone over at all well. He chose his next words carefully, "Johny needs his dad more than I need my big brother. I have to step back and let that happen. Now, get in that rolling antique you're so proud of, take your dumb ass home, and beg that wonderful girl, who puts up with you for reasons I'll never understand, to forgive you for planning on running out on her again."

Dean blanched. The ghost of words he hadn't bothered to listen to an hour before replayed in his head. "Damn it Dean, I used to like to drink too much, and drive too fast, and stay out too late too, when we were kids! We've got a kid now. We've got a mortgage. You've got a business to run. We are adults, at least I am. Do you have any plans on ever getting in the game?" It hadn't been anger that had sent him screeching out of the driveway. He'd just wanted to put distance between himself and the problem. He'd just been running away he admitted to himself, ashamed.

It was rare that Dean Winchester found himself speechless, but there he was, his mind void of any response. He was confused. Suddenly all the rules were changing, and he didn't seem to be able to keep up.

"Dean," Sam's voice, gentle yet firm, broke the silence, "go home."

"Yeah," Dean responded absently, "I think maybe I should do that." The driver's side door creaked when he opened it. "But hey, Sammy," he called to his brother over the top of the open door before ducking into the seat, "I'll call you, you know, for your birthday."

Sam gave him a warm smile, "You'd better." He hoped his voice didn't betray the ache in his heart.

XXXXX

Dean had gone, but not home. He couldn't, not yet. He knew Sam had been right and had to admit, Brenda had been nothing short of a saint to have taken him back so many times. Now the guilt was gnawing a hole in him, and he just couldn't face her.

Perched on the hood of his car, working his way through his second beer he tried to sort out just where it had all gone so wrong. He'd started out with the best of intentions, making sure Sam hadn't been alone, with no family, on the big days.

Sam got home for holidays as often as he could. The times he couldn't would always see Dean on the road, pedal down, tunes cranked, big brother to the rescue. The yearly road trip had been his favorite. Sam had been saddled, in his opinion, with a bummer of a birthday, early May, too soon after break to get away again. Dean knew without him there, Sam would just blow it off altogether. After the first year, when it had just sort of worked out that way, it was just understood that once the trip was over Dean was there for the duration.

Oh and he had loved it, the parties, the attention lavished on the cool older brother that could buy the booze and be the wheelman. No worries, no responsibilities, unlike the "kids" he'd surrounded himself with while he played at being an adult, pretending that few extra years under his belt made any kind of difference.

Thinking of the girls made him grimace. They had been fawning, flirty little things, attracted by the mystique, the image, the car. He berated himself for the times he'd surrendered to the temptation. What the hell, right? Brenda was going to dump him when he got back, if not before. Might as well deserve it. Might as well let a kiss or a slow dance, or whatever depending on how drunk he was take the edge off the sting.

He had to admit, and he would have avoided it if he could, that it wasn't about Sam, hadn't been for a long time. It had been at first, just him doing his job, looking after his baby brother. Things had changed, however. Somewhere along the line it had stopped being Sam needing him, and became him needing Sam to need him. Looking after Sam had given way to the fear that Sam was outgrowing him.

The truth was, he realized morosely, Sam was outgrowing him, but not because Sam was growing up. Out of the two of them, Sam was the only that was growing up, and that was the problem. Sam was outpacing him.

Sam's whole life, Dean had already been wherever Sam needed to go. Bully problems, girl problems, puberty problems, Dean had been there first. He could handle it all because he'd already explored and charted that territory and could guide his little brother through it with a sure hand gained from hard learned lessons.

Then college happened, and Sam had gone off to an alien world that he had no clue about, and he had freaked. He'd tried to introduce himself into that world, an effort to keep Sam from drifting too far away.

Only not really, because it wasn't really Sam's new world he'd become part of. That world was classes and studying, and high goals that Sam had set for himself, a grown-up place. Dean had been proud of all that, but his priority had been getting Sam to go out and play with him, to stay his little brother. If Sam never grew up, then Dean didn't have to, but Sam was growing up. He saw that now. He couldn't stop it, so if he was going to be the big brother, he had only one road open to him. It was time to grow up.

He set the half full bottle down and fished his phone out his pocket. He took a deep breath and dialed. "Bren? Hi, it's me." his heart pounded. "I...I was just wondering, if you haven't had the locks changed yet, would it be all right with you if I brought my dumb ass home and begged you to forgive me?"