You guys are gonna hate me for the end of this chapter, because I probably won't be able to update for a while. Just hang in there, though, I promise it WILL get updated. After this one, only two chapters left, so you guys are gonna have to tell me if you want to read the sequel. :)

Sam joined them in the Impala, which had been hidden behind the cabin, and saw that the youngest boy had been crying. The ten-year-old had called shotgun, and sat quietly, staring out the window, as his adult counterpart sat in the back, trying to comfort the killer.

"Where to now?" Sam asked quietly.

"Back to Topeka," Dean said, "we'll leave the car, drop the kids off, and then you can head home to your girlfriend."

"Dean-"

"Don't. Whatever you've got waiting for you now, I'm sure you deserve it. Let's just get out of here, huh?"

"Dean, how-"

"Just start the car, Sam," Dean muttered, glaring at his brother, "I'll tell you later. Just don't talk about it."

The room was just as they'd left it, crummy and smelly. But it was the closest thing to a home they had. Besides, Topeka was where the wormhole was located. Where else would they go?

The kids had been sent to bed after a long drive, and the adults sat out in the living room, staring at a blank TV.

"The little one did it, didn't he?" Sam finally asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "he did. I told him to. There was no other way."

"Great," Sam sighed, "so I'm telepathic now, too."

"That's the least of our worries," Dean muttered, "what's gonna happen to us? What're the kids gonna do? Sammy, we orphaned ourselves today."

Sam just shook his head. "I know. I figure that before we leave we can make a call. Child Services can come and pick up the kids, put them in Foster Care, find a nice family for them."

"No. Absolutely not."

"What? Why?"

Dean turned to look at his brother, and Sam saw something like fear fighting for control of the older man's face. "Do you know what can happen to siblings in Foster Care, Sam? They can get separated. Those kids already lost their dad, I'm not going to make them lose each other, too. We're all we have now, man. We've gotta stick together."

Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled. "That's not gonna happen. They won't separate us, Dean."

"They won't have a choice. You really think anyone would want a kid like me? I'm so messed up that even I know I'm messed up. I mean, that kid saw both of his parents die, Sam. He was trained to kill. He's cocky, he's overconfident, he's trouble.

"You, on the other hand, have always been after normalcy. You weren't as messed up as I was. Someone will take you in a heartbeat. They'll adopt you, you'll have a nice house, a good family. What'll I have? Tons of Foster families and even more issues than I've got now. I've thought about this, Sam. I used to do it a lot when dad left for big hunts. It always turned out the same for me. I never got a home."

"But that's not really going to happen," Sam said, "I won't let them take me unless they take you, too."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, "because that's not what you did when Stanford came knocking. If you want something bad enough, you'll go after it. Never mind me."

Sam sighed. "We'll talk to the kids, then, we'll figure something out."

"You know you won't listen. You'll leave. We could take them to Pastor Jim, though, and he could keep them together."

"The wormhole could close," Sam pointed out, "let's take our chances with Foster Care."

Dean shook his head. "I'd rather take my chances with the wormhole."

Sam finally tore his gaze from his brothers, anger rising sickeningly within him. "We're leaving them with professionals, Dean. You'll get the therapy you need, and someone will adopt you. We'll have good lives. That's the plan."

"Whatever," Dean said, standing up and walking toward the door, "do what you want, man. I'm going for a walk. Check on the kids while I'm gone. Make sure they're really asleep."

Sam nodded as his brother left, the anger that had risen so suddenly finally ebbing away. Sighing, he got up off the couch and headed toward the bedroom. He opened the door a crack and peeked in.

Dean was sitting on his bed, staring vacantly at his sleeping brother, obviously lost in thought. Sam slipped into the room and sat down beside the kid. "Can't sleep?"

Dean shrugged. "Why should I? It's probably gonna be my last night with my brother. I just wanna remember him."

"What makes you think this is the last time you'll be together?" Sam asked.

"Because dad's gone. We don't have anyone anymore. It's just us, and we can't legally be alone. They'll come and they'll take us. They'll put him somewhere nice and warm and safe, and I'll get dumped with some psychiatrist. He'll get a family. I'll get a shrink. The worst part is that I'll never see him again after he gets adopted."

"You really think they'll split you up like that?" Sam asked. The boy nodded sadly. "Who told you that?"

"Dad."

Sam sighed, standing up and walking to the door. Of course. He looked back at the boy, who was looking at him with those familiar, haunter hazel eyes. Suddenly, Sam didn't see a kid anymore, he didn't see his brother. He saw a puppet, a puppet too stupid to know that John Winchester had been pulling its strings since 1983, a puppet that had no idea yet how screwed up it was. "He lied."

Dean looked shocked. "Why would he do that? Why would dad lie to me?"

The adult just looked at him, wanting nothing more than to grab him and shake him. The kid may have figured out who he and his brother really were, but when it came to matters of their father he was a complete blockhead.

"I don't know," Sam hissed, "maybe he did it because he hates you. Maybe he did it because he knew how stupid you are and wanted to scare the shit out of you. But it was probably because he hates you, just like he always will.

"You wanna know why you're a disappointment to him, kid? It's because you follow his every order without an ounce of resistance. It's because you have no life of your own, because he can manipulate you so easily. I'm the favored son, and it's all because I can actually think."

The boy just stared back at him, face set and determined, eyes brimming with tears. Ha, Sam thought, that shut him up.

"Don't worry," Dean whispered after a long pause, "I'll raise you right this time. You won't be mean."

Finally, Sam had had enough. He lunged at the boy, grabbing him by the front of his worn shirt and pulling him roughly into the air, holding him at eye-level. "Why, you little-"

"Sam."

The hunter whirled around to find his brother standing in the doorway, watching him.

"Why don't you go outside," the shorter man suggested, "get some air. I'll put him back in bed."

Shaking, Sam looked back at the kid he was holding in the air, the kid who was having obvious problems breathing. Suddenly realizing what he'd done, the hunter dropped the boy onto the ground and moved past his brother.

"How long were you watching?" he asked softly.

"Long enough," Dean replied, a note of disgust in his voice, as he walked into the room and closed the door behind him.