Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay. I was hoping for this to be the last chapter. It isn't, but it is long... so I hope that makes up for the delay!

Thank you so much for all the reviews and suggestions. You are all amazing for putting up with me and my erratic posting habits -- THANK YOU!


"I'm not going. I don't want to." The pronouncement was followed by the protruding of a lower lip and the crossing of small arms across a narrow chest.

Dean drew in a long breath, "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do," he told his younger brother slowly.

Sammy shook his head, light brown wisps flying around his face, "No. It's not fair. I want to go with you."

"You can't come with me." Dean explained, getting down on his knees so he could see into his little brother's face, "... but I promise, if you're good for Pastor Jim we'll do something really awesome when I get back."

"If you get to go with Dad I should too," the younger boy stated.

Dean shook his head, "You can't, kiddo…"

"I don't want to go to Pastor Jim's..." the lip quivered, "I want to go with you..."

Dean sighed, reaching out and grasping his little brother's shoulders, "You can't Sammy. I'm bigger than you, that's why I get to come. Dad doesn't want you to get hurt."

"You could get hurt."

"I won't. I'm big."

"I want to go with you."

"You can't."

Tears welled in the big, brown eyes, "Then stay with me."

"Sammy..."

"Please stay with me..." the little boy flung himself into his big brother's arms, "Please, Dean, please, stay with me..."

"I can't. Let me go, Sammy..."

"Stay with me."

"Let go..."

... let go...

... let go...

"Let go..."

Sam blinked slowly. He was holding Jess tightly against him, her face pressed against his chest, "Let go," she repeated, her voice muffled against him.

He blinked again and realized there was a banging sound coming from outside their bedroom and that light was streaming in through the windows - bright light.

"Sam... the door... let go..." Jess muttered ago, pushing against him lightly.

He released his hold on her a little, still feeling fuzzy around the edges. Elusive images of a blonde haired ten-year-old with regret filled green eyes flashing in his mind. Feelings of sadness, of loneliness; the sense of despair, of being left behind— of being separated… all still so strong in him he could almost taste them.

Jess fell against him suddenly, snuggling back into him, "... mmmm, it stopped..." she murmured, and he closed his eyes, burying his face in her hair. He relished the feel of it against his cheek, the scent of it and slowly he felt himself relaxing again. Her breathing was even and deep against him and he felt the dream images slowly fade away as he slipped back to sleep.

He should be getting up, he knew that. Jess was warm against him and the bed was soft, but the coffee smelled so good…

coffee…?

The word rolled around in his mind for a moment, before its full meaning struck a cord. His eyes snapped open again and he jolted upright, "Shit." He whispered, nearly tossing Jess to the floor.

She gasped in surprise, "Wha-!" she murmured, catching herself before she tumbled backwards.

"Coffee!" Sam hissed, throwing back the covers.

Jess blinked at him incredulously as the last remnants of sleep faded, then she dropped back onto the bed, a scowl firmly in place, "You shoved me because you want coffee...?" she asked grumpily.

"I smell coffee," Sam corrected, standing.

Her scowl didn't fade, "Okaaaay..." she drawled.

"Did you get up to make coffee?" he asked sarcastically even as he headed for the door.

She jerked back up, her eyes widening, "Your brother..."

Sam nodded, "The door."

"Oh."

"I'm going, I'm going..." Sam muttered as he left the room.

He could hear voices as he walked down the hallway towards the living room. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he turned the corner.

He frowned a little, the living room was neat. The sofa bed was put away, the blankets folded, the pillows stacked on top of them. For some reason that bothered him.

That, added to the smell of coffee, told him that Dean had been up for awhile... and that bothered him too.

He'd missed enough time with Dean already.

Without further thought he pushed his way into the kitchen. Dean was at the far side of the room, leaning against the counter, a coffee mug in his hand, a smile on his lips, and shadows in his eyes.

The eyes he fastened on Sam were unreadable, but the younger man clearly read the tension in his brother's body language.

Instinctively Sam felt himself tense as well.

"Sam!" Kerrie cried, jumping into his line of sight. She was grinning.

He scowled at her, "What are you doing here?"

She stopped, the smile dimming, "We decided to go on a barbe—"

"It's kinda early for that isn't it?" he interrupted, still frowning.

She blinked up at him, the smile gone, "It's past two." She stated.

"It's 2:23, to be exact."

The clear, soft voice came from the kitchen table and Sam noticed for the first time that Lacey sat there, sipping carefully from a tea cup.

His eyes widened as the impact of her words hit home, "Oh shit," he muttered again, his eyes flying to Dean.

The older man's smile had disappeared, the shadows hadn't.

"It's a gorgeous day, Sam; you wouldn't want to sleep it away, would you?" Lacey continued, her words as clear and rational as he'd come to expect from her.

Lacey had been pre-law as well and of his college friends she was the only who made him a bit wary. She had a lawyer's suspicious mind and a woman's eye for details… and even Sam knew that when it came to his life, the details didn't always add up.

He wasn't in the mood for her today… he wasn't in the mood for any of this today.

This day was his.

His with Dean and they shouldn't be here.

He glared at Lacey, then looked back to Kerrie, "Jess told you no." He stated.

"Actually she said, we'll see." Kerrie replied.

"Do you need a moment to collect yourself, Sam?" Lacey interjected, standing, "You're being rude." She pointed out.

"Maybe you waking us up had something to do with it," Jess's irritated voice filled the kitchen and Sam almost sighed in relief. If anyone could defuse tension it was Jess.

"I see you've made yourselves at home," she continued, shooting them pointed glares. She fastened angry eyes on Kerrie, "Jeez, I told you I'd get back to you."

Kerrie shrugged, "It's not the first time we've shown up like this. What's the big deal?"

"We have a guest, that's the big deal." Jess hissed. Then looked to Dean and shot him a regretful smile, "Did my friends bug you?" she asked.

"Beautiful women never bug me," Dean offered, shooting Jess a grin, as he set the mug on the counter.

"We were just getting to know each other," Lacey supplied and Sam tensed again. He knew what that meant— questions.

"Getting to know each other?" he asked, shooting a quick glance in Dean's direction.

"Oh, yeah. Your friends are real interested in getting to know me," Dean offered, sending Sam a smile that meant more than his words expressed.

"If you interrogated my guest I'm kicking you both out," Jess hissed, making her a beeline to the coffee pot.

Lacey frowned, "The two of you are very surly today."

"… that's where the you-woke-us-up part comes in," Jess announced. Then turned a kind look on Dean, "Did you find everything you needed this morning?" she asked, "Oh and thanks for picking up the living room, you didn't have to do that though." She added.

Dean shrugged, "Habit, I guess," he murmured, "No big deal…"

"Habit?" Lacey questioned, taking her seat again. Ignoring the glare Jess sent her.

"Dad was in the military," Dean offered, his gaze meeting hers, "… wanted things organized… plus someone had to pick up after Sam the Slob over there," he finished shooting Sam a grin.

Sam rolled his eyes, "Oh please," he muttered.

"Oh please, nothing." Dean drawled, "Dude, look at you… twenty-three and … still…" he sighed, dramatically, "… the hair… remember that talk we had when you were a kid—about the comb and what it's used for?"

"Shut-up."

Dean's smile stayed in place, he shifted to look at Jess, "I found everything fine, thanks. I hope you don't mind I went ahead and made coffee," he paused, "… obviously."

She laughed, caught in the act of pouring herself a cup, "Jee, don't you ever, ever have coffee ready for me when I wake up again…" she stated then took a drink and sent him a baleful glare, "I mean, what were you thinking." She deadpanned.

Dean chuckled, Sam didn't, his gaze still going from Kerrie to Lacey resentfully.

"So Jake's on food and Doug's on setup, we're meeting at about four." Kerrie stated causally as she moved back to the table.

"So why are you here now?" Sam asked.

"Dude." Dean warned his tone shifting subtly. Sam's gaze shot to him and he found his brother's hazel eyes fastened on him disapprovingly.

Dean always had this thing about being nice to women. He'd had it since they were kids. He didn't give a shit about manners when it came to men, but with women he always managed to hang onto a veneer of civility and politeness that just kept him from being labeled rude.

He was warning Sam that the younger man was dangerously close to tipping over the edge here—and that was not acceptable.

"I'm just saying it's kinda early," he muttered looking down, feeling defensive and chastised all at once.

"We didn't know your Dad was in the military, Sam," Lacey stated, her voice full that curiosity Sam so desperately wanted to avoid.

Sam continued to study the floor, "Well, he was," he stated, his tone somewhat petulant.

Silence filled the kitchen as he failed to elaborate. Sam looked up to find Lacey and Kerrie studying both him and Dean by turns, Jess still drinking coffee—ignoring them all, and Dean sending him a dark glare.

"Dad was a Marine." Dean offered, into the silent kitchen. His tone was almost conciliatory and for some reason it upset Sam to hear it.

Dean did not have to be nice to them; he did not have to answer their questions… because they shouldn't be here.

"Yeah," he murmured dismissively, "Dean, can I talk to you for a second..." He added quickly, motioning towards the door.

His brother nodded slowly, "Yeah, sure."

"Excuse us," Sam stated to the women, his voice tainted with sarcasm as he glanced at Kerrie and Lacey.

He could feel their eyes on his back as he turned and left. Dean followed a few steps behind.

They entered the living room and Dean quickly dropped down into an armchair, folding his arms in front of him and releasing a long sigh. He'd gotten up two hours earlier and already this had been an interminably long day.

He stared at his brother, watching as the younger man began to pace in front of him.

"Can you believe them?" the younger man finally asked, "I mean of all the insensitive, invasive things to do—showing up here unannounced and asking questions and expecting answers and just thinking that we'd be okay with their need to suddenly know everything about my past and—"

"—so that overtly dramatic tendency of your friends'— it's contagious?" Dean drawled, interrupting him.

Sam stopped mid-breath and mid-step, whirling around to face his brother, "Dean—" he began.

Dean rolled his eyes, "You need to chill."

Sam scowled and dropped down to sit across from Dean, "So you're okay with the questions?" he asked incredulously.

Dean scowled back, "Hell no."

"So—"

"The more you dodge, the more they want to know," Dean cut him off, his tone disapproving, "… or did you forget that?"

"No, I didn't forget," Sam drawled, "… it's just…" he released a frustrated sigh, "I don't want them here. I wanted today to… to be just… you know… me and you…"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Well what did you expect when you started cursing at me in the middle of street in front of your friends?"

Sam gaped at him, his eyes wide. "You're saying this is my fault?"

Dean frowned, "Christ Sam! What were you expecting? To be silent about your family the entire time you've known these people then suddenly introduce your brother to them and have them not ask questions?" He asked, then arched an eyebrow, "Dude. I thought Stanford was supposed to make you smarter."

"Dean this isn't funny."

"Do I look like I'm being funny," his brother shot back, "I was with those women for fourteen goddamned minutes. Fourteen," He emphasized, the hazel eyes suddenly flashing with frustration. "Do you have any idea how irritated I am! Do you have any idea how many questions fit into fourteen minutes?"

Sam arched an eyebrow, "What'd they ask?"

"… just about everything, but my goddamned blood type." He growled, "What I do, how long I've done it, if I like it, where I'm coming from, how long I'm staying, if I'm coming to the wedding…"

Sam's eyes had widened, "And you answered all that?" he asked on a squeak.

Dean's scowl deepened and the look he sent Sam stated the older man was seriously questioning his little brother's intelligence.

"Hell, no." He muttered emphatically, "It's called diversion, little brother, look it up."

Sam's eyes sharpened, he wasn't buying it, "Lacey's in law school; diversion doesn't work with her," he stated.

The scowl disappeared and a cocky smirk replaced it, "Charm does." Dean stated.

"She didn't seem particularly charmed by you."

"All women are charmed by me."

"Dean, be serious."

"Sorry, it's that pony on your shirt—it's distracting me."

The younger man scowled again, his eyes traveling down to his shirt, "It's not a pony." He contradicted.

"It looks like a pony." Dean stated earnestly, squinting at the image on Sam's shirt.

"It does not. It's a... a dog." Sam corrected his voice dropping a little.

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned, "God, is that supposed to make me feel better? You've got animals on your shirt!"

"It bothers you that I've got animals on my shirt, but not that we're being maneuvered into this barbecue-thing?"

"That bothers me, Sam." The tone was darker suddenly; its pitch doing that abrupt shift that had caught Sam off guard twice now.

He didn't remember Dean being like this. The brother he remembered was very in-your-face about what he wanted to do; unless it came to Dad, of course.

When Dad issued an order Dean fell in line, always. It had bugged the hell out of the younger boy.

This brother was confusing the hell out of him.

This brother was smoke and mirrors— one moment he was laughing, the next moment he was looking at him so intently Sam felt goosebumps on his skin.

It wasn't necessary even a matter of words or expressions, it was something else entirely. Something Sam could feel.

He felt it now. The words were brief, simple, but he knew there was more to them, knew Dean was saying something else— something Sam knew he didn't want to hear.

"Well it doesn't seem like it," he stated, frowning at Dean; his tone a bit more gentle in the face of his brother's sudden intensity.

Dean shrugged, breaking eye contact, "What'd you want me to do? Throw a tantrum-- you've got that one covered." He reproached.

"I just... I had wanted us to..." it was Sam's turn to shrug now, "... we have a lot to talk about you know..."

"Not really, Sam." Dean cut him off, standing and moving away; his tone hard and dismissive, "All we have to do is play a game of pool. That's it."

"Dean—"

"It's what we agreed to," The older man interrupted, then added, "… it's what you want..." it's all you can really accept...

The unspoken words hung in the air for a moment, heavier then the ones uttered.

Sam opened his mouth to refute them, but a look from Dean stopped him.

.A look that said clearly, just leave it, and because it was still early, because they had an entire day, because he hadn't had coffee yet, Sam did.

"I'm gonna take a shower," he said instead, standing as well, "You can hang out in my study if you want," he offered, "It's the first door down the hallway…" he pointed out, "I usually study in there so there's no TV, but its probably better then--"

"-- in there," Dean finished pointing to the kitchen door and nodding vigorously, "I totally agree." He added.

Sam smirked.

"Although, I gotta say..." Dean added, when Sam started moving towards the bathroom, "You sure made some nice-looking friends at school, Sammy..."

"Sam."

"... I mean all of a sudden, I'm gettin the college appeal..."

A smile tugged at Sam's lips. Dean's eyes widened dramatically, "Whoa, so Geek-boy does remember how to smile!" He murmured, "For a minute I thought you'd lost that motor skill."

"Shut-up." Sam muttered as he left the living room; a grin spreading across his face.

Dean had always been able to make him smile-- at least that hadn't changed.


He'd always been able to make Sam smile-- at least that hadn't changed.

Dean stared after his brother for moment before turning and dropping back down into the armcharim. This morning, he decided, sucked out loud.

He'd slept about four hours and then woken up to that restless feeling he got when he wasn't on a hunt. He needed something to focus on, somewhere to direct his thoughts. When he didn't have that, his mind wandered to places he'd rather it not go to.

With a quiet sigh he leaned he head back, closing his eyes. He was not going to think about how bad an idea this was—he'd already concluded that it was.

So really there was no need to give anymore thought to that. Instead he turned his thoughts to this barbecue that was in the works. His first instinct had been the same as Sam's— a resounding oh hell no, but the idea was beginning to grow on him.

Of course spending the day with the puppy-dogs, Ms. I'll-make-myself-tea-thank-you, and whatever other forms of life Sam had befriended appealed to him about as much as wearing a suit and tie did.

It's just that that scenario had one gigantic benefit— no Sam-alone time. No time for his little brother to delve into an Oprah-moment, no time for Sam to ask him about his life, for Sam to try and merge their lives, for Sam to further delude himself into believing this could be more than temporary.

So the benefit of not having time to do this was quickly becoming the lesser of two evils. After all, it wasn't the first time Dean had put up with unfortunate life forms. He knew how to do it. Just smile and pretend you were listening, try not to curse, and don't hit anyone— no matter how much they deserved it.

Sam would appreciate that. Sam who seemed very reluctant to go to this barbecue— which further reinforced Dean's belief that his little brother was just waiting for an opportune moment to spring a goddamned Oprah-moment on him.

He sighed again, lifting his head and straightening on the armchair. He knew what he had to do. It wasn't right, maybe it was even a little mean, it was definitely underhanded, but he had to do it. It was best for both them. It would keep them at arms length.

You couldn't hurt each other if you were at arms length.


Sam knew something was wrong. He'd found the empty living room and assumed Dean had taken him up on his offer.

Apparently he hadn't. Standing in the doorway of his study—Sam felt a knot of dread form in his stomach.

Dean wasn't studying the bookshelves with a disgusted look or lying on the sofa with his boots on the coffee table—the room was empty.

Something was wrong.

In a quick movement he turned and headed for the kitchen. His long, determined strong strides eating up the distance quickly as he made his way down the hall and across the living room.

When he opened the kitchen door and found Dean smiling that smile at Lacey while Jess and Kerrie giggled, Sam felt his heart sink. In no way, shape or form did this scene bode well for him.

"Oh Sam…" Jess gasped out between laughs, her eyes wide and twinkling.

He frowned at her a little, before fastening a suspicious gaze on his brother, "What's going on in here?" He asked, trying to keep his voice causal and failing miserably.

Dean shot him a wide grin and Sam's alert-meter hit the red zone.

"… just some story swapping…" Dean offered lazily and the knot of dread in Sam's stomach twisted tighter.

"Story swapping?" he echoed as he walked further into the room, his gaze doing a quick study of the three women once again. Lacey and Kerrie were sitting at the table while Jess sat on the counter, her feet swinging in the air. They were watching him intently, amused smiles on their faces.

What the hell was Dean doing out here anyway?

"What kind of stories?" he asked, still doing his best to keep his voice neutral.

Jess giggled suddenly, "Oh Sam…" she repeated hopping off the counter and coming closer to him. She linked her arm through his and shot him a wide smile.

He noted the sad teasing tone of her voice and swallowed hard, "What?" he asked warily.

"Who knew you had such a past…" Kerrie continued with a teasing smile on her lips.

"A what?"

Lacey chuckled softly and Sam felt his blood pressure rising, he fastened narrowed eyes on Dean without saying a word, letting his gaze speak for itself.

His brother shot him a sunny smile, "You're fiancée has a right to know about your first wife little brother…"

"My first—" Sam cut himself off as the memory erupted forth from the depths of the Repressed-Memories-R-Us that constituted his mind.

"Oh god…" he muttered, feeling heat flush his face, "… you didn't…" he added.

Dean grinned then glanced around at the women, "He dressed up and everything," he told them, "… used Dad's aftershave, even combed his hair back…"

"… that's just…" Jess gasped giggling again, "Oh god…" her free hand came up to cover her mouth as she pressed into Sam.

"Wait till the guys here about it…" Kerrie added through her own hysterical gasps.

Lacey glanced at Dean, "There wouldn't be any pictures of this…" a delicate pause, "… wedding, would there?" she asked sweetly.

"No, as a matter of fact there wouldn't be," Sam growled darkly.

"He took a lighter to them when he ten." Dean stated, lowering his eyes and shaking his head sadly, "A real shame that was too…"

"All of them?" Jess asked, pulling away a little and peering at Dean, "Not even one survived?" she asked shooting him a wicked grin, "Not even in the clutches of a big brother?"

"Well…" Dean drawled, but Sam cut him off.

"No," The younger man hissed, "Not one survived. I burned them all, spread the ashes and did chores for a month to make sure it wouldn't be brought up ever again…" Sam finished heatedly, glaring at Dean.

Chores, of course, was code for training-without-argument and Dean had brought this up why!

He could feel his face flaming.

"But you're getting married, Sammy…" Dean said sweetly, "It's a special occasion and what's more special than the story of your first wedding…"

"Shut-UP."

The girls were laughing again. Jess leaning against him, her body shaking with laughter, "Oh god Sam…" he murmured, "… a dog…?"

Sam groaned lowering his head, "I was six." He muttered, "And I wanted a dog…"

"… and a husband and wife should never be separated…" Dean added sweetly.

"That is just so sweet it hurts," Kerrie murmured.

"And where is your first wife?" Jess asked archly, pulling away again so she could look up into his face.

Sam scowled at her. Hadn't he told her not to encourage Dean's delusions?

"Dad issued a divorce," Dean stated solemnly, then added looking at Jessica, "It's up to you to mend his broken heart."

The giggling started again and Sam shot Dean an incredulous look. The expression froze though when he met Dean's guarded gaze. Whatever was going on here it had nothing to do with an old memory.

"So Sam you ready to go?" Kerrie said getting up from the table, a smile still lighting her face.

His eyes went to her quickly, "What?" he asked frowning a little, "Go where?"

Her smile dimmed a bit, she shot a quick look to Dean before turning to Sam again, "To pick up supplies… you're driving right?"

Sam blinked at her, "What?" He asked.

"We need plates and napkins and cups, you know… supplies," Jess stated still looking up at him. Her eyes faintly puzzled now.

Sam looked down at her, "For what?"

"The barbecue," Lacey responded, then turned to Dean, "That's what you said right? That Sam would drive Kerrie…"

Sam swung his gaze to Dean, his eyes widening, "You said what?" He asked sharply.

She turned back to Sam, frowning a little, "Yeah and Dean's coming with me to the park-- he offered to help Doug with setting up." She added.

"You what?" Sam hissed again, ignoring Lacey and taking a step towards Dean.

Dean met his gaze and Sam felt a shiver of apprehension slide down his spine. His brother's gaze was unreadable. Dean was closing him out and Sam felt himself tensing.

"Lacey wants a ride in my car," Dean offered.

"So do I!" Kerrie chirped, then shot Sam a frown, "Why don't you just go with Jess to pick stuff up?" she asked, "Then I can go with Dean in The Car…" the last words tinged with mock reverence.

Sam blinked at her then shifted his gaze to Dean again, "What?" he asked again, his voice devoid of sharpness now and full of confusion.

"The barbecue, Sam," Jess stated softly from his side, he looked down at her, "You agreed right? We're doing this…?"

Sam stared at her, the pieces slowly coming together. He looked back over towards Dean, "We're doing this…?" he murmured.

Dean nodded once, "We're doing this." He stated firmly.

Sam shook his head, "Dean—"

"It'll be fun." Dean cut him off.

And Sam stared at him in horror. Fun? This would be fun…?

Dean would rather face a horde of Harpies than spend the day barbecuing at a park. So what the hell was going?

"Sam?" Jess tugged on his sleeve.

"Dude. Blink." Dean told him. Then looked around at the women, "You'd think he'd outgrow the floating-to-his-own-universe-shit-in-public thing," he stated.

They laughed. Sam didn't. He stared at Dean. Trying somehow to see his brother's thoughts, to read him, to pick up on those vibes that had always told him what Dean was thinking, where he was headed.

But there was nothing. Dean's smile was wide and friendly and completely unreadable.

Sam couldn't reach him-- and that was terrifying in and of itself.

"We should get going," Lacey stated standing as well.

Dean nodded, "Lead the way." He murmured, motioning for Lacey to step in front him.

Sam's eyes widened.

What the hell was going on? His brother was actually going along with this? Going along with this meant they'd be in the company of his friends all day… they wouldn't get a chance to—

The realization dawned swiftly and furiously. His gaze darkened and he instinctively clenched his fists. The jackass was trying to avoid him.

They spend four goddamned years without communication and now Dean was avoiding him?

"This has gotta be a joke?" he asked abruptly, angrily.

Dean shifted a little, an edge of warning sliding into his stance, "Is what a joke, Sam?" he asked carefully. The women paused looking at Sam confusedly. He didn't care.

"You can't be serious?" The younger man continued.

"Sam? What's your problem?" Kerrie asked, noticeably upset now.

"You're acting really weird," Lacey added.

But Sam's eyes remained focused on Dean— Dean who stood absolutely still while he met Sam's gaze with steady, hazel eyes, "Why wouldn't I be serious about spending the day with you and your friends? Isn't that why you invited me here? To hang out with you?"

He was putting distance between them, setting up barriers, building fucking steel-reinforced walls and Sam was starting to lose his calm. He grit his teeth and drew in a calming breath, "Dean…"

"This will be fun, Sam. So get your ass in gear and let's go."

The calm was slipping through Sam's fingers. He shook his head, "You can't be serious…" he began again, incredulity still coloring his voice.

"I am." Dean interrupted, before the younger man could continue. His tone resonating with shades of John Winchester and Sam felt himself bristle.

The tone brooked no argument, it stated that a decision had been made and that Sam was expected to fall in line—like a good little soldier.

His fists clenched instinctively and he narrowed his eyes. His brother had made a decision alright… one he knew Sam would fight tooth and nail against.

Dean was in no way against using what was handy when in a fight, of finding cover wherever he could. And he'd known this would be a fight.

Sam had so much to say to him, so much they needed to talk about. So much he wanted to go over with his brother and for whatever reason Dean was being a shit-head and avoiding him.

Hell yes, it would be a fight. Dean had known that going in.

The girls had provided him perfect cover. Sam wouldn't blow them out of the water.

But of course, two could play at that game.

He drew in calming breath "Fine," he stated, "But I'll take you over to the park." He added then shifted to face Jess, "You and the girls take my car and go get what you need."

Jess blinked at him, frowning.

"Dude, Lace and Kerrie want a ride in my baby…" Dean stated his voice carefully light as he shot the women a wink.

"Yes! Yes we do!" Kerrie enthused and Lacey nodded grinning at Dean. Sam scowled at her. She was supposed to be the level-headed one, what the hell was she doing falling for that shit-eating grin of Dean's?

"Yeah well, so do I," Sam snapped after a moment, "And I have a little-brother-card that I'm pulling."

Dean frowned him, "Yeah well, it's my car and I say first ask first serve."

Sam glowered at him, "I'm coming with you."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "You are not," he murmured lazily, but his hazel eyes were dark and steady— warning.

"I am to."

The words were out before he could stop them. They swirled around the quiet kitchen in all their childish glory.

And they provided Dean with perfect ammunition.

The older man smirked, "Let's be grown-ups about this Sammy," he murmured, "… let the girls go first."

The words were swathed in carelessness; coating the issue with a triviality that neither brother felt.

Lacey and Kerrie giggled, Jess remained silent at his side.

"Yeah, Sam… be a gentleman…" Lacey murmured.

Sam said nothing. He stared at his brother and fought the urge to scream.

A gentle hand on his arm drew his gaze downwards. Jess was looking up at him with concerned eyes. He knew she could the tension in his arm and he made an attempt to physically relax, to unwind, but he knew it didn't' work. He knew he looked defensive, upset. He knew she could read the frustration in his gaze and stance. Maybe even the panic he was beginning to feel.

A moment passed and then she offered him a small smile before turning towards the others.

"Ah, but Sam is right," she proclaimed, "Little-brother-card trumps random-joy-ride card."

"Not for everyone," Kerrie stated, shooting Dean a smile.

Jess ignored her, plunging forward with that relentless determination that fascinated Sam.

"It does for me. The three of us will do the shopping and we'll let Sam and Dean go help Doug." She stated, moving over linking an arm through Lacey's, "Plus that'll give them a chance to catch up…"

Dean frowned, "I don't mind— " he began, but Jess cut him off with a brilliant smile.

"Oh don't worry," she murmured and then pulled out the ultimate weapon, "I have wedding things to discuss with the girls anyway…"

Both women brightened instantly.

"We can make a pit-stop at a coffee shop and talk it over," she continued, "Sam has left all the details to me… so I need a lot of help…"

"And we are more than happy to help," Lacey added, smiling.

Kerrie nodded vigorously, "Absolutely, and we can always get a ride later, right Dean?" she asked.

Dean stared at her in silence.

"We do have all day…" Lacey added.

Kerrie chuckled, "It's gonna be like the pony-ride at the circus. Everyone's gonna want a turn."

Jess and Lacey laughed.

"Do you know what color scheme your using?" Lacey asked, shifting to look at Jess.

Jess smiled as she shrugged, "No idea, thus the needing-a-lot-of-help thing…"

"Okay then… let's get going." Kerrie stated, reaching out and tugging Jess's arm. "Give Doug a call so he can tell you where he's setting up." She told Sam as the three women headed towards the door.

"Yeah, and tell him we'll be there around four or four-thirty at the latest." Lacey added.

Jess shot both brothers a look before smiling and calling out a cheerful, "See ya guys later."

And with that the three of them disappeared through kitchen door.


The silence in the kitchen lasted a full minute before Sam's control slipped and he snarled at his brother, "You're an ass."

Dean smirked at him, "Jee Sam, tell me what you really think."

"What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"Uh, going on a barbecue. I have the sudden urge for a shish-kebob."

"You were being nice to them!" He accused.

"I thought you wanted be to be nice to them?" Dean asked. Guileless sincerity coloring his words—Sam was not fooled.

"Not that kind of nice… you told the dog-story, Dean?"

"Yeah… Jess appreciated that…" Dean drawled.

Sam scowled, "You offered to help!"

"Is that a bad thing?"

"YES!"

"Since when!" Dean asked, his voice rising a little in response to Sam's angry tone, "I'm participating… isn't that your dream come true?" he asked sardonically.

"My dream come true? Oh you mean spending the day surrounded by people so we get no time to talk?" Sam asked.

Dean smirked and opened his mouth.

Sam cut him off, "I'm not an idiot!" He roared, "I know what you were trying to do."

"What I'm trying to do is get through this day with minimal blood shed," Dean hissed, the smirk gone.

Sam flinched, "Get through this day," he repeated, "Is that how you see this? As something to get through?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Would you stop with the melodramatic bullshit already?" he growled. "Christ you're like a fuckin never ending Lifetime Movie!"

"Fuck you Dean! I'm not going to apologize for wanting to have a conversation with you! It's been four years—"

Dean straightened abruptly, "You don't have to tell me how long it's been, Sam. I know." He hissed at his brother.

Sam ignored the warning in the older man's eyes though. "Then I don't get what the fuck your problem is!" He yelled.

"My problem is you acting like someone waved a goddamned magic wand and everything's changed!" Dean yelled back, his hands fisting at his sides, "When NOTHING has! We're still in the same situation we were four years ago, Sam! I still wanna hunt. You still don't!"

"That doesn't mean nothing's changed!"

"It sure as hell does!"

"You don't know that!"

"I DO! I know what you want and you CAN'T HAVE IT!"

"LET ME TRY!"

The words surprised Dean into silence. The idea that Sam wanted this enough to actually try for it, to actually fight for it hadn't entered his mind.

"Let me try," the younger man repeated, as much to himself as to Dean.

For one moment Dean wavered. For one moment he almost considered conceding. Almost gave in and let Sam try—hell he almost offered to try himself, because what Sam was offering was beautiful; perfect even.

A chance to have it all— the best of both worlds.

But the feeling passed after a moment. Dean knew better.

He knew that although it might work for a little while, the day would come when it all came to a head and the aftermath of it all might be too much for either of them to handle.

The aftermath would draw the lines between them more clearly; it would make them more definite—harder to overcome.

Reality was harsh… and impossible to run away from. Hoping would only make the inevitable harder to bear. Expect nothing and you're less likely to be crushed under the weight of disappointment.

But Sam didn't see that— Sam saw the ideal outcome. Sam was willing to suspend belief in order to feed off the hope—the dream—that it would all work out.

And that hope would be the end of them.

It was Dean's job as the kid's big brother to watch out for him—to watch out for the things that Sammy didn't see coming and pull him out of the way before he got hurt.

That was his job.

And Dean had always been good at his job.

It was time to defuse this baby.

He offered the younger man a wry smirk and shrugged one shoulder, "Knock yourself out, little brother. In the meantime could we get this show on the road—'cause I could use a beer…"


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