Disclaimer: The Winchesters belong to Eric Kripke and I will be forever grateful to him for sharing them with us. I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them from time to time; I promise to return them as I found them. And I know the rule. If I break them, I buy them.

A/N: I have to be honest. Thanks for the feedback! I'm getting closer to the stuff that I feel unsure about but we're not quite there yet. Sam and I have negotiated and I think we've come to a meeting of the minds about where this is headed. Dean is game for anything.

Chapter 2

They walked the four blocks to Sam's building in silence but Dean watched his brother from the corner of his eye. Sam's sunglasses fell off when he dropped from the chair and Dean saw the dark circles under his eyes. He was momentarily angry, knowing that Sam hadn't been sleeping well and knowing, too, it wasn't due to studying late into the night. In the apartment Sam dropped onto the couch, resting his head on the back. Dean sat down next to him.

"How long ago did this start?"

Sam glanced at him. "The dreams started a week or so ago. I'd wake up knowing I'd had one but not being able to remember it. Then, a couple nights ago –"

"What happened a couple nights ago?" Dean prompted gently.

Sam closed his eyes.

"Sam?"

"I started dreaming about Jessica again. The ceiling, the fire – the whole thing all over again."

"Aw, Sam," Dean didn't know what to say.

They sat in silence for a couple minutes. "The voice you heard today – do you know who it was?"

Sam nodded. "It was Jess. She said to stop fighting."

"Stop fighting what?"

When Sam didn't answer, Dean repeated the question. "Stop fighting what, Sam?"

"I don't know." his voice was a whisper.

Dean didn't believe him but didn't want to push. Or maybe he was afraid of what Sam would tell him. Either way, he wasn't prepared for this conversation. He decided to deal with what he could instead. Sam looked like hell and probably hadn't eaten right since the dreams started again.

"When did you eat last?"

Sam looked at him. "What?"

"Food? You've heard of it. When did you last eat?"

"Yesterday, I guess."

"You guess? Sammy –"

Sam was going to correct Dean's use of his childhood nickname but the reality was that he sometimes found comfort in it. Dean didn't use it to make Sam feel small or incompetent but instead as a term of endearment. He looked at his brother, a sudden surge of emotion threatening to overtake him.

"How about some breakfast?" Dean suggested. "Then we'll come back here and you can get some sleep."

"I have to study. I have exams next week,"

"You have to eat and sleep or the studying isn't going to do you any good."

"Give me a second." he moved toward the bathroom then hesitated, his hand on the door jam. "I can't do this again, Dean." he said in a small voice.

"It's gonna be okay, Sam." Dean said it but he wasn't quite sure he believed it.

After breakfast at a small café, the brothers went back to the apartment. Dean settled on the couch with the television remote while Sam crawled into bed. He didn't want to sleep but Dean was right; if he didn't he would never be able to get any studying done.

Sam woke up three hours later without dreaming. He didn't hear any noise coming from the living room and, for a moment, thought he had imagined Dean's arrival. He was surprised at how sad that thought made him. Walking into the living room, he found Dean asleep on the couch. Sam smiled down at him then grabbed his backpack and settled at his small desk to study.

Dean had driven all night to reach his brother. After hearing his voice in their last phone call Dean knew something was wrong; more wrong than Sam was willing to let on. The younger brother had changed so much the first time he went to college. He had left the family as a rebellious teenager, mad at the world and furious with John for a lifetime of things. What Dean found when he went to Stanford asking for Sam's help was a strong man who knew exactly what he wanted out of life. The first months after Jessica died were hard for both of them. Sam was so angry and bitter; the nightmares took a toll on him physically and emotionally. Dean, the big brother, had always been able to make things better for Sam but this was something he couldn't fix. Gradually, Sam became less angry and less reckless; he was an equal partner in the hunt and they grew closer as brothers again.

But as close as they became, there were still things they couldn't voice. Sam still had a hard time asking for help. Dean assumed that was from always being the younger brother and the bottom of the Winchester pecking order. But he heard Sam's tone; had heard it for over a week and couldn't ignore it anymore. He knew Sam wouldn't ask him to come but he also knew that Sam needed him. He couldn't wait for the end of the term when they had a week planned together so he got in the car and headed for California.

He intended to go straight to Sam's apartment but had seen him walking down the street. He parked and followed at a distance, attempting to assess his brother's condition. He was wearing sunglasses and walking a little unsurely. Dean watched him walk into the coffee shop and was glad to see him take an outside table so he could keep watching. He nearly screamed when he saw Sam fall to the ground; he'd seen the same thing happen too many times before and it made him sick. He knew what Sam looked like when he had a waking vision and this was it.

Dean woke up early in the afternoon, immediately seeing Sam at the small desk with his nose in a book. Sam had always been so smart; frighteningly so sometimes. He was able to do Dean's homework better than Dean did when they were kids and even as a young child he could read some impressive books. Dean didn't tell him how proud he was, but he felt it. Even when Sam went away to college on a full scholarship Dean didn't tell him he was proud. He was angry at Sam and their father because both of them were too pig-headed to see the other's point of view but he was still proud of his brother. Even now Dean had a hard time talking about his feelings but he made a point out of congratulating Sam on his good grades and tried to be supportive when Sam called to vent about an assignment. He sometimes wished he could go back and change Sam's first college experience but settled instead for making this one better.

Sam was so engrossed he didn't notice Dean getting up and heading to the bathroom.

"Hey." Sam smiled when Dean came back into the room a few minutes later.

"Hey. How's the studying going?"

"Good. I got a lot done."

"Amazing what food and sleep will do." Dean said dryly and flopped back down onto the couch.

Sam closed the book and leaned back in his chair. "You want to go out tonight? I'm sure you could impress some college girls with your rugged good looks."

Dean grinned. "Of course I could. So, do you go out with your friends much?"

Sam glanced away and shrugged. "You know how I am."

"Yeah, I do." Dean sighed to himself. "Please tell me you don't hole up in here alone all the time."

"I don't." Sam said quietly. "I go out sometimes."

Dean looked disbelieving.

"I do." Sam insisted. "Sometimes."

Dean nodded. "Okay."

"So? You wanna go out? There's a bar down the street where I hang out with a few people sometimes. It's not strictly a college place and a band plays on Saturday nights."

Dean watched Sam as he talked. It was painfully clear that the suggestion of the bar was made for Dean's benefit; Sam probably had only been there a handful of times. He considered taking him up on his offer because he knew his brother could use some fun. But Sam had spent too many hours in too many bars watching Dean enjoy himself while sitting in the corner with their father's journal, a newspaper or his computer.

"You know what; I was in the car all night and I'm still feeling a little worn out even after some sleep. Why don't we just get a movie and grab some takeout?"

Sam was surprised. "Really?"

Dean smiled; sometimes it was so easy to make Sammy happy. "Sure. Why not?"

TBC