A/N This is the last part. I have a one part sequel in the works the first part of it should be posted soon. Please leave reviews good or bad.

Peace

Sam lay stretched out on his bed staring up at the ceiling, dinner still heavy in his gut. The room was quite beyond the sound of the click of computer keys as Ryan typed. Dean had promised to call, so far he hadn't. Sam watched the ceiling.

Sam awoken late and sticky. His sheets damp from sweat among other things. The room had been empty, Ryan gone off to his afternoon class. Sam showered dress ran to his late afternoon class and from there to study group. His cell phone silent the whole afternoon and into late evening. Dean would call he was sure of it, if not today than tomorrow or the day after.

They were not so close anymore. Not like when he was small and Dean had no choice but to take him everywhere. Not like that short span of space when Sam was 15 than 16 and not so angry and Dean wanted to take him everywhere. They talked more now that Sam was away. More than they talked for his last two years traveling with them. They still said nothing. When they talked they skipping over the riff, dad, the important things. They usually ended up fighting but it was shallow, stupid, fighting nothing that lasted to long or brought out the pain. Dean would never leave things between them broken. Not when he wasn't close enough to fix it.

Sam knew when Dean was really angry at him he could feel it, the anger vibrating cutting through every word.

It wasn't always used in love, his nicknames. There were times when Dean would twist them lacing them with something hard hurtful. Bitch it would be a sneer not an endearment a way to goad Sam into something anything. Sammy could become an accusation a word dropped to push Sam away. Dean knew the power of words. He saw the effect, they could cast a spell, bring a man to his knees. Dean knew that words could cut just as rash and hastily as a well sharpen knife he knew it and he used them just as fast and fiercely as he used any other weapon their dad taught them to use.

Sam missed him now. Missed him like an ache. He wouldn't lie to himself. That could get him killed. Dean wasn't always the best older brother in the world. He was human. He had flaws and damaged done to him, done by him. He was a wondrous broken thing with sharp teeth and a killer grin. There were walls in Dean so thick Sam would break if he hurled himself against them, crack under the weight that held them firm. So he didn't fight. He never fought back not against Dean, not when he was younger. Not so sure of what he would do now. It was easier to fall under Dean, to let him pull back, than pull Sam up.

Dean was never the one he fought with. It was dad always dad. Stubborn arrogant dad who held them both to close and to far. Who never gave enough, not for real hate. Dean he could never hate, even when he was full of anger and sharp words. Dean was big brother, guard, protector, giver of nicknames, best friend, tormentor, closest friend, at times only friend, some times enemy, at all times most beloved.

Fin