A Brother's Sacrifice

by ayosb2000

Completely AU. John really did want Dean to have a home and for Sam to go to school. At Sonny's, Dean saw the possibility of another life, but chose family. Sam is chafing under his father's thumb. An exploration of what might have happened if Dean stood up to his father and decided that normal and hunting could co-exist. A large re-write of a previous story I wrote years ago.

27. Early May 2002

A/N Okay, here we are finally! Many thanks to the lovely mak2018 for burning the midnight oil to edit for me!

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I'm back

I'm back in the saddle again

Aerosmith - 1976

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Sam was exhausted.

Two days in the hospital, where every five minutes someone was poking or prodding him or doing literally anything else that could possibly keep him from sleeping, had left his already run down batteries practically on life support.

If you asked him how he was doing, he couldn't even honestly say that he felt like shit. Because feeling like shit would have been several orders of magnitude better than how he was actually feeling. He wished he felt like shit because it would mean he didn't feel like he felt right now.

Feeling like shit was a goal.

Every muscle in his body ached like he'd been dropped from a ten-story building and it was all he could do to hump his half-filled backpack from one class to the next. For a guy that was in pretty good physical condition, it was unsettling to find himself studiously avoiding excess movements while just sitting quietly in a lecture hall because every shift in his chair carried the risk of sending a pain so sharp through his body that it was enough to make him want to vomit.

Again.

The doctors had run so many tests on him he was basically a human pincushion by this point. Blood work, X-rays and scans ruled out all the most likely suspects. They tried everything they could think of, even when there was no possible reason for him to have some of the things they were testing him for.

Malaria and Dengue Fever?

As if

The closest Sam got to the tropics was the coconut oil in his hair conditioner.

Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia were terms that got thrown around with some regularity during his stay. He'd own the possibility that he was chronically fatigued, simply because most serious students were if they wanted to stay ahead in the their classes at a prestigious university and Sam had the extra pressure of keeping his need based financial grants intact and he had to have the grades to do that.

There were no quick fixes or miracle drugs for those diagnoses. Simply symptom management like pain relievers and anti-depressants. Sam once had a leg sewn up in the back seat of the Impala with nothing to kill the pain but a steady stream of whiskey poured down his throat that made him gag while his eyes watered. He'd handled garden variety pain before and this was not that.

Anti-depressants?

Well, he grew up knowing that the monsters that kids worried were living in their closets or under their beds actually were real and he also knew exactly how to kill them. His family hunted because his mother died pinned to the ceiling by an invisible supernatural force over his crib. His hobby was studying true crime statistics with an emphasis on serial killers and he talked to an imaginary brother on the phone every night.

Yeah, he was probably overdue for some chemical intervention.

He just wasn't ready to start taking them yet because the last thing he needed was to bring another mood altering guest to the party of hot messes that already lived in his head.

But it was when the hospital sent up a drug counselor that he'd finally had enough.

With the exception of some of the questionable pain killers that his brother had swiped for them occasionally, when an injury got too bad to manage by taking a few swigs from whatever bottle Dad had lurking in the bottom of his duffel or using the power of their minds, the only other shady drug Sam had ingested was the one and only joint he'd ever accepted from Zach.

He didn't get high, it tasted like day old spaghetti and left him with a blinding headache not unlike the one he had right now.

Whatever was going on with him wasn't getting fixed in that hospital. While he lay there stumping the brightest minds of the Epidemiology Dept, his classes were still going on and someone else was picking up his slack at the restaurant. Sam asserted his right as a bona fide adult and demanded the paperwork to check himself out AMA, called Brady for a lift and got the hell out of Dodge.

He had work to do.

Now in retrospect, it probably wasn't his smartest idea.

For all of his willpower and can-do attitude, his body was still falling down on the job. Lying in his bed, after a night of almost no sleep from the constant aching and sapped of what little motivation he had in him to haul his decidedly ripe ass into the shower, Sam was questioning his ability to make good life choices.

Happy Birthday to me.

/

A light breeze was blowing through the partially open driver's side window of the '02 Chevy Trailblazer parked in the darkest spot between two street lights.

The crisp clean scent of the early evening spring shower still heavy in the air as stressed college coeds darted between puddles and wet grass on their way to study groups for the upcoming finals. The rain itself had stopped a while ago but the rumbling thunder overhead threatened more on its way in the not too distant future. The driver of the Trailblazer leaned back in his seat and took a deep, slightly shaky breath as he attempted to work up the nerve to do what he came for.

To someone paying attention, the car had the obvious markings of a rental, but to the casual observer the deep blue SUV with the slightly tinted windows didn't look even remotely out of place among several other vehicles all lined along the far side of Santa Teresa St. on Stanford's campus.

It had a current appropriate parking permit provided by Milo's group that lived in the bottom of Dean's go-bag when not in use. Mounted on a magnetic surface for ease of transfer between multiple vehicles and clinging to the Trailblazers rear bumper, it helped to make sure that no one bothered him while he sat in the driver's seat nervously tapping his boot against the edge of the accelerator pedal. Several deep breaths later, he was still no closer to summoning the courage to head down the path to the courtyard of Sterling Quad than he was when he'd arrived fifteen minutes earlier.

The walk to the courtyard was only about 200 feet from where Dean was parked but it might as well have been miles considering his hesitancy to breach the distance. A steady stream of students passing by in annoyingly regular intervals kept him tense just on the off chance that his little brother might be among them and somehow take enough notice of the car to recognize him and ruin his whole plan.

Fortunately most were far too caught up in their own little worlds to show him even the slightest interest and none of the groups contained an overly tall bean pole with crazy floppy hair and a sloped nose buried in a book.

A quick glance at the fancy new watch that his father had shockingly gifted him with out of the blue confirmed that he had scant few minutes left to make the trek if he was going to catch Sammy hunched on his usual bench. His little brother's mysterious 10 pm phone calls still an unknown factor that didn't quite sit well with Dean who needed to know on a cellular level as much about potential threats to Sam as possible in light of everything that had happened recently.

A large yawn escaped him that he tried unsuccessfully to stifle. He'd only had a total of six hours of sleep in the past four days. The wolves he had been tracking with Lee were much more crafty than either young hunter had given them credit for. They'd been preying on hikers in the Sawtooth National Forest and were very familiar with the landscape. As the youngest hunters working for Hunter Corp, Dean and Lee were in the best physical shape to tackle the mountainous terrain and while Dean positively hated camping, John had certainly made sure that he knew how.

Which would have come in handy if Dean had listened to his father's advice and packed accordingly instead of assuming they'd just bang it out in a day.

The hunt took longer than they anticipated because there were four werewolves, not the three they were expecting, and the fourth one led them on a merry chase up and down the peaks. They finally caught up enough that she came out of hiding, somehow got the drop on Lee and broke his leg before Dean emptied a clip of silver bullets into her heart. Miles away from the nearest ranger station, Dean made a rough splint for Lee's leg and then spent two days slowly helping him limp down the mountain towards civilization while the two of them lived on a shared bag of jerky Dean happened to have in his pocket and a flask of holy water.

In Dean's defense, he did try several times to make a meal out of one of the snowshoe hares that crossed their paths enough during the trip down that it was almost like the little critters were mocking their designation of hunter. They probably were, to be honest. Dean was a crack shot and there was no other reason for him to have missed so many times unless he was doing so intentionally. At the rate Dean was wasting ammo, he had a better chance of scaring one to death from the noise than actually shooting it.

The hares were cute little things and anyone with a heart might have a hard time skinning them and eating them.

Dean didn't want to talk about it. Shut up.

Eventually he'd dragged Lee back into cell service range and was able to make the call to get an ambulance to their general vicinity. Once they had Lee drugged up on a gurney in the back, Dean checked his voice mail and got bombarded with calls from his father, Henry and every other hunter working in the bunker bringing him up to speed on the nightmare taking place in Palo Alto.

He'd been looking forward to a hot bath, several good meals and basically all the booze in the tri-county area, but instead he hitched a ride back to where he'd parked the Impala and hauled ass for California.

That he didn't get into a car accident on the way from the speeding and the repeated slamming his hands on the wheel as more calls came in was nothing short of a miracle. After hearing all the details regarding the failure to keep his little brother safe, as far as Dean was concerned he was done with the Campbells. He hadn't wanted to get involved with them in the first place and never agreed with his father's decision to trust Sammy's security to people they didn't really know just because they shared a little common DNA. But Dad had always stressed the importance of family while they were growing up and Dean couldn't seem to make him understand that the idea of family might not mean the same thing to the Campbells that it did to the Winchesters.

Besides, on the one occasion he'd met Christian Campbell, Dean had to work overtime to suppress an urge to punch him in his stupid face. It probably didn't make for the best working foundation between them.

Right now his father was halfway across the country tracking the demon they suspected of poisoning Sam without any real success. Always arriving minutes too late to get his hands on her. He'd be hearing about his decision to leave his sick son alone in the hospital later if Dean had anything to say about it.

And Dean had a lot to say.

During the drive that had him going at speeds that were even more unsafe than his usual reckless endangerment, he also got a call from Bobby insisting that Sam was being watched over and advising him not to go and get yourself killed, ya idjit. The salvage man had tapped another one of his Hunter Corp recruits to keep an eye on things at the campus, at least until one of the older Winchesters got there, and Sam would be perfectly fine for the time being.

It helped Dean's jangled nerves that the hunter in question was Annie Hawkins. A San Francisco native who knew her way around the Bay Area, she'd been more than happy to take point. Even better, Dean already knew her and trusted her. They'd been drunk enough to share a fox hole last December while he and Lee were riding together those weeks before Christmas. She was working a ghost possession in Steamboat Springs and things got a little too tricky on her own, so she'd sent out a hunter's SOS to Bobby who passed it on to Dean since he was in the relative area.

The case was a nasty one. Certainly too much for any one hunter. It was hard enough for the three of them to take care of it and come out in one piece. Dean had made a rookie mistake that almost got his head taken off with a table saw and Annie had swooped in like a knight in shining armor with a crowbar and a fistful of salt to the face and saved his ass. Later, while the ashes were still cooling, they'd had a little too much tequila and a little too much Bob Seger and he'd expressed his gratitude for the timely assist.

Knowing that Annie had Sam's back for the time being allowed Dean to ease up on the gas pedal just a fraction. He was so wiped that he'd skipped the coffee and gone straight to the caffeine pills. Both for the extra kick and fewer necessary pit stops. With the hope that if he chewed on enough of those he could make it to Palo Alto before he had to resort to the questionable amphetamines he'd picked up during his last run to TJ.

Dean could long haul with the best of them, but he was still a human being and needed a few hours of shut-eye occasionally.

He felt his body start to seriously crash once he rolled into town after just a little over eight hours on the road for what should have been a ten hour drive. Dialing Annie's number, he checked in and was assured that his little brother was safe and sound in his dorm room after his day of classes. The fact that Sam was still pushing himself enough to even go to class when Dean knew he should be resting after what he'd been through grated on his every last raw nerve. Why the boy just couldn't take care of himself, Dean didn't know.

What Dean did know was that he was never going to make it over to Sam's dorm to check on his kid himself unless he took care of some personal needs first, so he detoured and drove a mile over to the hotel he'd stayed in last month to get a room. Once he was checked-in he took a quick, scalding hot shower to wash away the days of forced camping grime and emptied all the snacks out of the mini-bar in an effort to get his stomach to stop trying to eat itself.

Food and general cleanliness helped his overall outlook on life. Just being within walking distance from his kid lowered his personal threat assessment level to a more manageable screed in his head. The ability to think a little more clearly had him reminding himself that this particularly tricky situation had an almost one hundred percent chance of quickly going south if he didn't handle it just right.

Because the biggest fear he had with letting Sammy in on the new family secret was how poorly the kid tended to take big news, especially if it was something that had been kept from him at first. It'd been ten years since Dean spilled the beans about Dad's real day job and his pissy little brother still threw it in Dean's face occasionally when they fought.

When Sam Winchester held a grudge, he didn't just hold it. He gave it a pet name and baked it cookies and set money aside for its college education.

Once he found out about everything that had been going on for the past few months, there was a very real chance that Sam would dig his heels in even further about his decision to divorce himself from his father and brother and probably never speak to either one of them again. So Dean was going to have to take this one step at a time and see where his little brother's head was at in general before telling him anything that might just blow the kid's mind altogether.

In a worse case scenario, Sam would tell his brother to drop dead and never contact him again, and then Dean would have to seriously consider buying a place in town to keep watch over him until he pulled his head out of his ass. California was nice this time of year, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

The first obstacle was of course his willingness to see Dean at all. Which is why Dean called down to the front desk to arrange another rental car like he had the last time he popped in on Sam so that the sight of the Impala didn't spook his little brother into taking off on his own to God knows where until he was sure the coast was clear again. One of the odd perks of The Westin hotel was the addition of an actual car rental desk right inside. Dean didn't even have to leave his baby in some random garage while he was off on his brother's campus playing stalker.

It wasn't until he was signing the rental contract and picking up the keys that he realized what the date was.

Days off the grid had really messed with Dean's inner calendar. So after a brief stop at a convenience store down the street from his hotel, here he was again lurking in the dark on Stanford's campus trying to figure out the mystery of Sam's nightly phone ritual.

It didn't matter if his little brother routinely appeared to enjoy these calls because for some reason they also seemed to upset him just as much, which was troubling to everyone that was watching out for the kid and trying to make sense of them. Dean had seen that much for himself and the whole concept of them just rubbed him the wrong way when he couldn't make himself shake the feeling that there was more to the calls than simple communication with a girl or a buddy.

But sitting in the padded seat of the rental car, his right hand occasionally fidgeting with the cellophane wrapped pastry resting in the empty shotgun seat where his brother should rightfully be in a perfect world, Dean wasn't currently as concerned with the call as he was with the buzz of nerves that had him so uncharacteristically on edge when he wasn't hunting something.

A physical reaction to the stronger than usual need to see Sammy up close and in person and finally talk to his brother after the better part of a year of radio silence.

There had only been one other birthday in Sam's life when Dean hadn't been with him to celebrate it. Neither one of them ever talked about those missing months when Dean was staying at Sonny's place learning a hard lesson that still scarred him enough emotionally to dictate his life choices. To this day Dean was still fairly positive that Sam didn't even know the true story of what happened way back then and as far as he was concerned that was the way it was going to stay.

Although it wasn't the first time, or the last time either for that matter, that John had sent Dean away from their little family, it was the only time when Dean wasn't fairly confident that his father would be back for him.

It was also the only time that Dean felt that he might not have chosen to return.

But today, just like it had been all those years ago, was about Sammy.

He would deny it to his dying breath but it had hurt when Sam ignored his birthday back in January. Realistically Dean had accepted long before then that his little brother had well and truly amputated himself from his family. So why it would be any different when Dean's birthday came around without even a quick text, he didn't know.

It would be weeks before he actually pondered on it, considering all the craziness that happened the day after with Henry's arrival via closet and then a demon dismemberment in his basement. You know. Just another day at his messed up office. But that didn't mean that Dean wasn't still stung by the cold-hearted evasion from his kid.

Unwanted although it was, that pain was the driving force behind Dean's prior steadfast refusal to consider making this trip any time the rapidly approaching date of Sammy's nineteenth birthday got caught in his head. It's not as if he wasn't more than busy enough to keep himself occupied with the way things were now, or that he had an especially large opening in his schedule to hike all the way to the west coast to stalk his brother like some pathetic loser that couldn't take a hint that he wasn't wanted in the kid's new life.

With Hunter Corp fine tuning its operations, Dean had plenty of jobs to do and people who chose to spend time with him. He was no one's charity case that needed companionship from a selfish little brat who couldn't give a rat's ass how his family was doing.

Even with Dad stationed mainly at the bunker now, the two of them were still hunting together occasionally when John wasn't confident in letting anyone else but himself team up with his son for something particularly nasty. And they were all still getting used to the new weapons and other magical tools of the trade they now had at their disposal. It meant that Dean was spending some of his free time, when he couldn't really travel too far, in the armory getting in necessary practice.

Then there was time spent with his grandfather. Since their talk a few weeks ago, Henry had been putting in extra effort to show how much he was always happy to see his oldest grandson at the bunker. Going out of his way to assure Dean that he was just as important to Henry as Sam, as if Dean was some fragile little thing whose feelings were hurt. But Henry meant well, in his own weird way, and as time went on Dean was becoming more fond of his grandfather but sometimes he just wasn't up for the not-so-subtle arm twisting about how his little brother should come home.

He also knew that his grandfather would prefer to have him ride a desk in their new venture, instead of out in the field. But that just wasn't who Dean was right now. More a man of action than study from his formative years, first out of necessity and then by choice. Responsible for only himself and beholden to no one, Dean had the ability to be on the road at a moment's notice which was a very important attribute when they never knew when the monster radar would go off at the bunker.

Besides, now that he was actually receiving a nice legit salary as one of the MoL go-to hunters, Dean was determined to keep active and earn his comfortable pay as long as he was more valuable on the hunt than holed up in the archives. He could do the book work when he had to, but it wasn't something he necessarily enjoyed.

Up in Sioux Falls Bobby always had a six pack or a bottle to share and plenty of work at the salvage yard anytime Dean wanted to drop by. No invitation needed and always welcome. A claim that only Dean could boast when it came to hospitality extended by the grizzled old hunter. As well as the bonus that he could also kill two birds with one stone and swing by his own house and do some busy work there too as long as he was in South Dakota, which wasn't nearly often enough for him these days.

Last, but certainly not least to his growing pleasure, there was also the extremely tempting open offer from Lisa to spend time with her and Ben whenever he could get away.

He did spend as much time as he could at her place, but it was a hike, no doubt. Dean wasn't one to shy away from a road trip, but regardless of whether he was in Lebanon at the bunker or home in Sioux Falls, Cicero was an eleven hour drive. And while he was happy to make it when he had the chance, it wasn't as often as he would have liked. Maybe if it was just a matter of him and Lisa getting together, they could have split the difference, but Ben was still just a little guy and long road trips at his age weren't fun for anyone.

So Dean had plenty of other places to be on Sam's nineteenth birthday. But then he got the call about a sick little brother in danger and all thought immediately went directly to the safety and well being of the person he loved most in the world. Regardless of these other options and how much Sam had hurt him, when it came right down to it, there was never going to be another choice for where Dean was going to be at this particular moment of time.

A warning rumble of thunder in the distance broke him out of his reverie and had him checking the time on the Trailblazer's dash. It was close enough to 10 o'clock for Dean to know that the kid in question, who should really be out doing something fun with his friends to celebrate another year around the sun, would be making his way into the courtyard any moment now. As much as Dean was hesitating to go skulk in the darkness he needed to get moving if he was going to see his kid at all today.

Exiting the car Dean pulled on the San Francisco Giants ball cap that he'd picked up from the gift shop down the street from his hotel on his last visit and tugged the brim down enough to partially hide his face. Along with his navy Abercrombie & Fitch hoodie, dark J Crew jeans and a pair of black Vans it wouldn't be hard to blend in with the students milling around the area. Grabbing the snack cake from the seat and shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie, he darted across the street and began making his way towards the Sterling Quad courtyard.

The outfit he was wearing had been a source of contention between Dean and Milo before his last visit to Stanford. It took a lot of calm persuading to get the point across to Dean that even to the untrained eye his entire essence screamed Hunter! It hadn't been easy but eventually the older man had convinced Dean that the Stanford kids would take one look at the labels and not give his presence on campus a second thought no matter how intimidating he physically looked.

Dean still might have pushed back against the slight on his usual wardrobe if not for the fact that he had ready access to significantly more money now. He also had to admit that Milo was probably right about his chances of keeping a lower profile in the pricier clothes that were more commonplace on the campus. After getting access to his trust fund he hit up a high end mall outside of Kansas City where he had a better chance of finding the more upscale brands.

He had no idea what to buy but thankfully a very friendly and very sexy young lady at the Customer Service kiosk had pointed him in the right direction. If he'd had more time, he would have shown his appreciation to her that night in several different ways.

It only took a few seconds at brisk walk to arrive at his preferred secluded corner just past the bike rack and under the vines growing up the sides of the lattice covered walkway. Thankfully Sammy's bench in the courtyard was empty which meant that Dean had time to wedge himself unseen into the shadows next to the door of the dorm across from the one his little brother lived in. Keeping up the facade he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one, flipped open his phone and began to scroll through his address book.

It didn't matter that Dean wasn't actually doing anything. All that mattered was that he looked like just another student having a smoke and texting. Blending into the college landscape.

The sound of a door's crash bar across from his hiding spot had Dean's eyes flickering up to see if it was Sam coming out to his bench. Sure enough, all ten feet of giant little brother loped gingerly out of the front door of Adams, his head down and his hair falling into his eyes. Like the gentleman that Dean raised him to be he held the door politely for a couple of girls coming in before letting the door close behind them.

From his vantage point Dean swore under his breath. The kid looked like hell. There were no two ways about it. His face was so pale it practically glowed and he looked even thinner than the last time Dean was here which shouldn't have been possible. It was clear that Sammy should be curled up in bed and getting the rest he so obviously needed instead of stubbornly coming out to perch on a hard bench in increasingly crappy weather.

But here he was in the courtyard as usual. Hands jammed into the pockets of his baggy jeans that hung just a little too much judging by the frayed bottoms. His shoulders hunched in an attempt to minimize his ridiculous height as he strode to his bench diagonal from Dean's shaded corner. He pulled his phone from his front left pocket and plopped down with a grimace, oblivious to his surroundings which worried Dean because the kid still needed to be careful, especially now.

Pressed further back into his shadowy corner Dean lit another cigarette. Drawing on it just enough to pull smoke from it without actually inhaling. It had never been a habit he picked up. His dad would have torn him a new one if he took up smoking even though it wasn't unusual for John to come home from hustling in bars just reeking of the stuff. Dean exhaled discretely and raised his eyes under the ball cap just enough to watch Sam.

It only took a few minutes before it became apparent that something was very different about today. From his own past experiences and the reports that Milo's group gave, Sam was always the one who initiated these late night phone calls. This time Sam just stared sadly at his phone as if he was willing it to ring. Dean wasn't quite sure what to make of this new development but he was pretty sure he didn't like it. Maybe whoever this mysterious person was, Sam had had a falling out with them, which made Dean want to find out their identity even more if only to kick the ass of whoever was upsetting his little brother on his birthday when he'd already had a pretty bad week.

Of course, another troubling thought was that Sammy's little phone partner was the one who had done all this to Dean's kid in the first place, and it only made the older brother want to kill them even more. The hunter in him prickled and he could feel his blood pumping with the desire to find the thing and make it pay.

Very, very slowly.

Another insistent rumble brought on a light misting of rain as the dark wisps of clouds rolled across the sky above them. Sam was only wearing a T-shirt and it didn't seem to bother him that the drizzle was beginning to dampen his hair and clothing, although it should have. Dean was shielded from most of the raindrops in his hiding place and he had to physically restrain himself from running over and throwing his own hoodie around the boy's increasingly wet shoulders just so he didn't spook the kid before this call nonsense was further investigated.

Despite his visible physical pain and exhaustion, as well as the increasingly crappy weather, Sam never moved from his spot on the bench. His hand firmly clenched around his frustratingly silent phone.

Once or twice Sam huffed and then flipped it open and appeared to be scrolling through his contacts only to snap it shut again and then roughly run his fingers through his wet hair. Dean knew right away from the kid's trademark tell that his little brother was more than a little upset and it was raising his blood pressure.

Right now would be a good time to emerge from his dark corner with a casual but snarky greeting and surprise the hell out of the boy. Whatever Sam's reaction was to Dean's sudden appearance would certainly take his mind off of his phone, at least for a few minutes. Even if the kid was absolutely furious and ordering Dean far far away from the hallowed halls of Stanford it would wipe the look of despair from the face that Dean loved so well and hated to see in pain.

But for all of Dean's bravado in the hunting world, when it came to his Sammy, Dean was a coward who was still trying to put off the inevitable pain of being kicked out of his brother's life for the second time in less than a year.

The rain was now picking up fairly steadily and although it wasn't necessarily a cold rain it was still nighttime and getting chillier out by the second. Sam was utterly oblivious, moving only to occasionally swipe at his face and giving Dean the distinct impression that it wasn't raindrops he was trying to clear away.

It wasn't right that his little brother looked so wrecked on what should be a happy day for him. Why wasn't Sam trying to contact him if things were going sideways? No matter what had happened in the past year, Sam had to know that Dean would never turn him away, right? That all he had to do was ask and Dean would be by his side in a heartbeat?

Should he go to Sam? Or stay the hell away? Would his unexpected arrival make the kid feel better? Or even worse?

Dean was usually a man of action but his estrangement from his sibling was uncharted territory and he was still mulling it over when Sam suddenly stood up and bolted back to his dorm.

/

Stupid.

That's what he was. Stupid.

Stupid for thinking that his brother would miraculously call him after all these months apart. After all the hurtful things said between them and all the crap Sam pulled in South Dakota. After Sam completely blew off Dean's own birthday in January to spend time with Luis instead.

Thinking that he would just be magically forgiven for all of it was just plain stupid.

Sam was tired and sore. And starving. But it hurt too much to sleep and his stomach was too upset to eat. Now he could add wet and miserable to the list and it was absolutely the worst birthday he'd ever had and that was really saying something because his birthdays had usually sucked.

His body and mind were just too worn out to have any kind of defenses against emotional pain and angst at the moment. He was nineteen now for fuck's sake and he'd been living more or less on his own for almost ten months without his brother around. This was what he signed up for and just because he was going through something right now with the more than slightly scary medical issues didn't mean he wasn't going to have to figure it out without Dean's help.

So what if he was terrified out of his mind and missing his brother so much it was making him even more nauseous than he already was? It wasn't Dean's job anymore to fix it and make it all better. It should never have been Dean's job in the first place, and what did it say about Sam that he was still expecting his big brother to come running to his rescue the minute Sam needed him? When Sam hadn't been there for him first?

With barely any energy left in his freezing cold and rapidly numbing limbs and a mind too far overwrought with weariness from days of pain and stress, Sam flopped down to sit on the edge of his bed and suddenly didn't care a whole lot about what happened to him anymore.

He didn't even hear the knocking on his door until Brady came out from his own room to see why Sam hadn't answered it.

/

It took Dean longer than it should have to make the decision to storm into the dorm after his obviously distressed sibling. Once upon a time, not too long ago, there wouldn't have been a nanosecond of hesitation on his part and the realization of that fact made his gut clench in self recrimination on just exactly how far down he had fallen in the good brother department.

But when the flame of his all encompassing role as Sam's fathermotherbrotherbestfriendteacher began to swell up inside of him again it was a familiar and living thing sizzling through his veins and demanding he act purely on single minded determination and instinct to protect and comfort. Like a neglected old friend who still had your back even when you had been pushing them away.

Jumping up from his corner ledge he flicked the prop cigarette off into the grass, the carelessness earning him the disgusted look of a girl walking by who stared at the discarded butt on the ground as if it had personally offended her. When she opened her mouth to likely voice her opinion on Dean's lack of consideration for the environment it only took a quick dangerous glare in her direction to silence her.

Dean simply didn't have time for a snotty lecture from a busybody-in-training when his kid was clearly upset and he needed to find out why immediately.

Milo had also provided him with a copy of the key to open the front door of Adams House which turned out to be a very good thing for it's overall longevity. Otherwise Dean would have just kicked it in and frightened all these starry-eyed college kids right to hell. Any barrier between himself and Sammy at this particular moment in time was an untenable obstacle that would be met with brute force and Dean didn't particularly care who got caught in the crossfire.

A quick swipe at his head removed the sodden baseball cap that was summarily tossed into the trash can inside the door. Dean wouldn't need the stupid thing ever again now that he'd made up his mind to finally reveal himself. Piece of cheaply made crap didn't even keep his head dry from the fine drizzle that had leaked between the wide slats of the lattice arch he had been standing under and he ran his hand through his short hair in an attempt to stop the beads of water streaming down his face.

His brother's door had a plain white dry-erase board with a clip for a marker attached at the top. Dean took a quick second to notice that the half of the board under Sam's name was significantly less used than the space for his roommate's messages. Not that Sammy had ever been a large social butterfly, but somehow Dean had been under the impression that once the kid was here among all of the other little geeks of the world he would have been swamped with friends who would have seen right away how smart, funny and wonderful Dean's little brother was.

He put that thought away in reserve, raising his hand to rap firmly on the door a few times. The door behind him opened up in answer to his loud summons and a wave of acrid smoke billowed out as a boy with short dark hair and a cheesy starter goatee peered out into the hallway. He squinted up at Dean through glazed eyes with a dopey smile on his face and even in the middle of his frantic need to see his own kid Dean smirked at him.

"How's it going, Cheech?"

Goatee boy grinned wider at him and offered the blunt pinched between his finger and thumb to Dean with an obvious invitation. Shaking his head as he chuckled Dean waved him off just as the door to Sammy's room opened.

The person who opened the door wasn't Sam. It was a blond boy about Dean's height who scowled at Dean while holding the door mostly closed in a clear display that no one was welcome inside right now. Dean had a copy of the full file on Sam's Stanford activities so he recognized the guy immediately as Sam's roommate. By all accounts this Tyson Brady was apparently nice enough but he was about to find himself flat on his ass if he didn't move it so Dean could get to his little brother.

"Can I help you?" the roommate asked, obviously annoyed.

"Yeah," Dean answered, pushing the door open further and peering inside. "You can get the hell out of my way."

The blond bristled at Dean's command and made the absurdly futile gesture of trying to make himself look intimidating. Dean mentally calculated seven different ways to put the guy on the ground before deciding to just duck under the arm holding the door partially open. If Sam really did like his roommate as much as Milo's group said he did, Dean didn't want to upset his little brother even more than he already was by clocking his buddy right off the bat.

The roommate squawked a protest that Dean barely heard because he was finally seeing his little brother up close and it was breaking his heart. Sammy was slumped on the edge of a small neatly made bed, head bowed, his pale, sickly face covered in droplets. He didn't react to his roommate's harshly barked words at first as he just sat there staring off into the distance. In fact, it took a sharp intake of breath from Dean himself for Sam to notice that Dean was even there at all, but once he did his hazel eyes widened in surprise like he was seeing a ghost.

"Dean?"

Sam's voice was small and shaky, his mouth quivering. He slowly stood up from the bed and ignored the incredulous stare he was getting from his roommate who was becoming more irate about the intruder with every second that passed. Dean choked down the lump in his throat that rose up from seeing the destroyed state of his kid brother and forced himself to quirk his mouth up in a small smile.

"Heya, Sammy."

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop as Sam took a few short sharp inhales of breath, his lanky body visibly trembling. Emboldened by the fact that his little brother didn't appear to be on the verge of kicking him out of the room Dean softened his facial features as much as he could and smiled at the boy.

"Happy Birthday, kiddo."

A shaky exhale came rushing out of Sam as his eyes flooded with tears and in his periphery Dean could see the roommate finally putting two and two together and backing off.

Smart move kid.

For a brief second the brothers simply stared at one another and then suddenly Sam was across the room and barreling into Dean like he'd been shot from a cannon. Dean grabbed his brother and held him tight, his eyes closed in gratitude for finally having his kid back in his arms again. Sam's face was buried in Dean's neck and Dean could feel a steady stream of hot tears against his skin. In his embrace Sam was noticeably shivering and Dean rubbed the boy's rain dampened, too bony back with one hand while he cupped the back of Sam's head with the other. He pressed his mouth against the side of Sam's temple and shushed him like he did when Sammy was little and had a bad nightmare.

"It's okay, little brother. I'm here. I gotcha."

Behind them Dean heard the roommate clear his throat uncomfortably and realized that the room's door was still open and the brothers were giving the handful of people milling around outside quite a show. A very brief movement to pull away from Sam was met with resistance from the boy who frantically gripped the back of Dean's hoodie with both of his hands before burying his face further into Dean's collarbone. Clearly Sam wasn't ready to be separated yet, which was fine because Dean wasn't necessarily ready either so he wasn't going to rush him.

"Hey, uh, Tyson right?" Dean asked the bewildered roommate as he continued to soothe Sam. "I don't mean to be dick, but could you give me and my little brother a few minutes of privacy?"

Dean could tell that the roommate wasn't pleased with the request. Maybe out of some concern for Sam's clearly distressed state with a stranger in their room. However it was pretty obvious to anyone that Sam was happy enough to see Dean that he was clinging to him like a koala bear with no immediate plans to release his brother any time soon. It didn't seem to matter that with Sam's increased height the hunched over position he was standing in to hug his brother had to be getting fairly uncomfortable by now.

Brady nodded reluctantly and gestured in the general direction of the still open door. "I'll uh, just be across the hall, Sam."

Sam didn't acknowledge his friend, still firmly enveloped in Dean's embrace. When the door closed behind him, Dean let out a breath of relief and the brothers were finally alone.

Now that it seemed relatively certain that Sammy wasn't going to tell Dean to get lost or, worse, get dead just yet, Dean's entire being relaxed and he turned to the important task of taking care of his little brother. In his arms Sam's shivering was increasing and by the clammy temperature of his exposed skin Dean knew that it wasn't all an emotional reaction. The kid was soaked from sitting in the cold rain for half an hour and he'd already looked like death warmed over before he'd even sat down on that damn bench.

Dean gently pulled away, lessening Sam's resistance by cupping the sides of the boy's face in both of his hands. He reached up with his right hand and pushed back the fringe of dripping hair away from Sam's red, swollen eyes. Sam leaned into his touch with a haunting expression on his face as if just looking at Dean pained him. It was a little disconcerting because up close Sam was even taller than Dean had thought from seeing him at a distance these past few months and it was beyond weird to have to look up at his still incredibly young face on a body that dwarfed Dean's own in height.

"I guess you grew a little bit, huh?"

Sam's breath hitched and he looked on the verge of bursting into tears again. "I'm sorry," he said in a choked voice. "Dean I'm so sorry."

Shaking his head, Dean pulled the boy back into his arms and squeezed him tight. Any remnant of anger he might have still harbored vanished in the blink of an eye once he was hugging his kid again and now the only thing that mattered was that they were together. Sammy didn't need to keep beating himself up over something that neither of them could change and didn't even matter anymore.

"Yeah, me too, kiddo. Me too."

It was the mother of all chick flick moments but the older brother didn't have it in himself to care. At the end of the day Sam was and always would be his kid. Mistakes were made, by both of them, and it was time to let go of all the hurt feelings that had kept them needlessly separated. Their family had changed in a dramatic fashion since the last time they saw each other and it was way past time that Sam was brought into the new Winchester dynamic.

Especially now.

Dean felt Sam tremble again and his ingrained worry kicked up another notch. The boy's practically skeletal body stressed Dean now that the awkward part of their reunion was over and he could focus his attention on taking care of his little brother properly again. He'd worried for years because Sam had never been the best eater except during his growth spurts, whether because of his tendency to get distracted or their family's often monetarily precarious situation, or both. Dean didn't know. Apparently things hadn't changed once he had gone off to college.

"Haven't you heard the saying 'he didn't have the sense to come in out of the rain', Sammy?" he scolded as he gently pushed Sam away again. "You also look like a stiff breeze would knock you over. Get out of those wet clothes so I can take you out for a late birthday dinner."

Sam huffed out a little laugh as he pushed his still dripping hair away from his face. Padding over to a dresser he opened a drawer and pulled out a long sleeved gray t-shirt with the Stanford crest down the front and a pair of well worn jeans. When he pulled his wet shirt off over his head Dean saw how truly thin the kid was and he shook his head. It didn't help when Sam shimmied out of his soaked jeans and left them puddled on the floor before grabbing a towel from another drawer and drying himself off.

Clad only in his boxer briefs Sam's uncomfortably wiry runner's body upset Dean more than he would care to admit. Sam had a job in a restaurant for crying out loud. Not only that, but Dad had repeatedly assured him that Sam was provided for at school. There was simply no reason for him to be as scrawny as he was unless he just wasn't bothering to take care of himself.

Of course Sam noticed Dean staring and he bristled from being gawked at and averted his gaze, quickly pulling on the dry shirt that hung loosely on his thin frame. He toed out of his damp socks and kicked them in the general direction of the cheap plastic hamper he had in the corner before pulling on the dry jeans and rifling in the top drawer of the dresser for a new pair.

"I'm fine," he said quietly as he pulled the dry socks on his feet and put his drenched Pumas back on. He only had the one pair of shoes except for his dress loafers and he wasn't about to wear them. "I'm just really busy."

He peered up at Dean from underneath his limp bangs and begged with his eyes for his brother to drop the subject. Dean was too happy to see the kid to be willing to press an obviously sensitive issue so he let it drop.

For now

Although they were absolutely going to talk about this later.

"Yeah, okay," he said in a voice that Sam knew promised further discussion on the topic. "Would you even know a good place to eat around here, Gigantor? I'm starving."

Sam didn't really get out much and the only eating establishments he was familiar with were already closed for the evening except for fast food. Not that Dean wouldn't be perfectly willing to grab a burger to go. Frowning in thought he was mulling over what was closest to campus when Dean just shook his head.

"You know what? There's a pretty good restaurant at my hotel and they do room service all night. Why don't we just go there?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up at the idea that Dean was staying at a place with room service that was more than just a euphemism for the pros that frequented the pay by the hour motel industry. Dean chuckled and playfully slapped Sam on the shoulder making him wince, which also did not go unnoticed, before jerking his head toward the door.

"You need to tell your bodyguard where we're going?"

Sam pursed his lips and shook his head. "Nah, I'll just leave him a message." He shoved his phone and wallet into the pocket of his jeans and led Dean out the room. Pausing for just a moment he grabbed the marker for the dry erase board and scrawled a quick message.

Out with my brother

Sam

A bubble of warmth rose up into Dean's chest at the message. Every raw nerve that had been paining him since last summer was being bathed in cool water from being back together with his sibling. The Winchester brothers had always been a packaged deal and the distance between them had left them both bleeding inside.

It was time to start healing.

Fortunately the on again/off again drizzle had quieted down some while they were inside reuniting and Dean's rental was a very quick jog down the walkway and across the road. Sam didn't even question where they were headed as he limped after his brother like a little duckling following its mother, but the unexpected sight of the SUV where he had mentally expected the Impala to be parked stopped him in his tracks once he realized that his brother had the key fob that unlocked its doors.

"Dean?"

Looking at his little brother's head cocked to the side like a confused puppy Dean just waved his hand and indicated that Sam get in before he was wet all over again. The brothers slid into the seats and Dean started the car immediately and cranked the heat up to high to help Sam keep warm.

"It's a rental," he answered Sam's unspoken question. When the boy's forehead scrunched up in a frown Dean had to turn away. "I didn't know if you'd even want to see me. I thought maybe if you saw the Impala you might just take off."

He glanced back quickly enough to see Sam's grimace before turning away again. The pain on the kid's face too much to bear right now.

"Dean," Sam started in a trembling voice, "I would never..."

Sam trailed off there when the realization that he did in fact take off on his brother last summer would have certainly left Dean feeling that way. And why wouldn't he? Sam had broken so much between them.

With his little brother looking like he was about to cry again Dean changed the topic quickly. It wouldn't do for his kid to continue to be so upset on what should be a very happy day.

"Actually I was just surprised that you were home at all," he said with as much forced joviality as he could muster. "Who are these shitty friends of yours that they didn't take you out tonight for a few rounds of girlie drinks and bad karaoke?"

Sam blushed and turned his head away to look out the window so his brother couldn't see the embarrassment on his face. "I didn't tell them. I didn't want anyone making a fuss."

The admission pierced Dean's heart. Because the whole point of Sammy getting the hell out of Dodge had been so he could live a normal apple pie life, and what was the point of a normal life if a nineteen-year old college student didn't spend his birthday getting silly drunk with his buddies? But Sam must clearly have had a reason to keep it to himself and Dean wasn't going to push. He wanted the kid happy, not guilty and upset any more than he already was.

"Well then I guess it's a good thing I'm here after all," he said with a big smile on his face. Sam's still red rimmed eyes softened and gave a jerky nod, grinning shyly as he looked down into his lap.

Far sooner than Sam expected they turned off El Camino Real and into the parking lot for The Westin. He stared out the window with an incredulous look on his face as Dean swung into a space next to where the Impala was parked. Although Dean was very protective of his car, so maybe it wasn't weird to have him leave her someplace safe. Plus there was a Hertz desk on site so maybe this was where Dean had lifted the keys for the rental.

Dean put the SUV in park and shut it off and the brothers climbed out. Sam took a moment to give the Impala an affectionate rub, feeling the ever present ache in his chest back off just a little more at the contact with his most frequent childhood home. He'd more or less grown up in the Chevy and he'd missed her almost as much as he'd missed the human members of his family.

He wasn't going to let himself think about Cherry.

Sam was also half expecting them to climb into the Impala and drive to wherever it was that Dean was holed up in town. So he was more than a little surprised when his brother beckoned him to follow as he strode towards the door into the hotel. The lobby was bright and cheerful with its neutral but warm marble tiles and a mix of modern and classic furniture scattered throughout artistically. He was feeling decidedly under-dressed all of a sudden and had a quick flash of panic at what kind of scam his brother was running to be in such a place.

Then he immediately felt guilty for thinking the worst and settled on not caring because his brother was here and that was all that mattered.

Dean looked perfectly at ease as he strolled across the lobby over to the elevator bank and punched the button to call it. While waiting the few seconds for it to arrive he gave his little brother a knowing smirk and shook his head fondly at the boy's raised eyebrow.

It wasn't until they were actually in the elevator that Sam finally noticed his brother's unusual attire. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Dean in something besides a flannel, a Henley or a suit. Seeing his brother study his clothing Dean let out an amused huff.

"Yeah, I know. The things I'm willing to do to visit your fancy pants campus."

The elevator stopped and the doors opened and Sam followed his brother's lead down the hallway until he stopped at a room and swiped a key across the magnetic lock. Once inside Sam looked around at the large king Jr. Suite decorated in shades of whites and tans. There were two leather chairs next to a table at the foot of the bed and an attached room with a small sofa, a desk and a second TV. Through the sheer window curtains Sam could see a wrought iron balcony that looked out over the pool area.

"Nice," he said appreciatively. It wasn't at all what he was expecting.

Dean shrugged and grabbed a room service menu from the table and handed it to his brother. "Yeah, it's okay. Here, find something you want. Everything I've had here has been good."

Sam took the menu but he frowned. "How long have you been here?'

Shit

Taking a deep breath, Dean was mentally kicking himself for his slip of the tongue. This wasn't how he wanted to start the conversation with Sam. The last thing he needed was the kid on the defensive already, but he also knew that he couldn't keep lying to him.

"I just got here a couple of hours ago."

Sam's forehead scrunched up in even more confusion and Dean could see the questions formulating in his mind already. There was nothing for it but to just be straight with him.

"It's not my first time staying here," he admitted, looking Sam in the eyes and calmly waiting for the fallout.

With his head bowed, Sam feigned interest in the menu, flipping through the pages as his mouth pursed into a pout. A full minute of silence passed between them until Sam finally spoke again and there was such pain in his voice that Dean flinched like he'd been hit.

"You drove all the way to Palo Alto and you didn't come to see me?"

Sam looked up and there was so much hurt in his eyes that Dean couldn't take it. Did the kid really think that his big brother would be in this town for any reason other than to check up on him?

"I saw you, Sammy," he said. "Why else would I have been here? I had to know that you were okay."

His little brother let out pained huff as he shook his head, wavering on the edge between more tears and anger. In the end the tears probably would have won out but Sam wasn't going to give Dean the satisfaction of seeing him cry again.

"I missed you, Dean," he insisted in a shaky voice. "I missed you so much. Do you have any idea how much it would have meant to me if you had just stopped by?"

"Sammy...," Dean started, only to be silenced by the anguish on his sibling's face.

"Do you have any idea how scared I've been? How lonely?" Sam said, his breath hitching. "Trying to get through every day knowing that I couldn't talk to my best friend, my brother, any time I felt lost or overwhelmed in a strange place? You were always the one there for me. The one I could always go to when I was confused. Or sad. Or in pain. And then one day you just weren't there anymore and it hurt so bad I don't know how it didn't kill me."

Although Dean's heart was breaking from Sam's words, he also felt his back starting to go up. "You left us, Sammy," he reminded the kid. "Not the other way around."

"I left hunting!" Sam bit out as the tears started to fall again. "I asked you to come with me. I wanted you here, Dean."

Sam reached up to scrub at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, forcing his face into a pain filled scowl with his jaw firmly set in an attempt to regain his composure. He stared determinedly away from his brother and hugged himself while his body trembled.

Dean took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hand. Sammy had said a lot of things that terrible day. Some of which still wounded Dean deeply when he allowed himself to remember them. But they were in the past and rehashing all of it wasn't going to make anything better between him and his little brother now.

"Look," he began gently. "I don't wanna fight, okay? I'm here now. I missed you too and I just wanna spend some time with my little brother on his birthday. Could we do that? Just have some dinner and a beer? Maybe watch a movie? Anything you want. Even one of those geeky documentaries you like. Please?"

Sam sniffed and looked up at him, nodding after a few seconds. "Yeah, alright."

Exhaling the breath he'd been holding, Dean smiled and picked up the menu Sam had discarded and nudged it back into his brother's hand. "C'mon and take a seat and pick something before the kitchen closes. I already ate the mini bar."

Chuckling, Sam swallowed hard and took a serious look at the menu, feeling his temperamental stomach give an interested rumble. "Including the Toblerone?"

Dean huffed and gave his little brother his best 'well, duh' look. "Especially the Toblerone. You kidding me? That stuff's awesome!"

The two of them shared a small laugh together for the first time in what seemed like forever. It wasn't over anything big. An inside joke between two brothers. Just the fact that they were in the same room again and some of the emotional storm between them was starting to clear away left them both feeling a little less weighted down by life.

Dean ordered two of the house Kobe beef burgers with fries for himself. Absolutely starving from days of hunger in the hills and then the long drive without the usual stops for his favorite road food. When Sam grimaced while asking for only a bowl of the soup du jour and some bread, Dean's forehead pinched with worry but he didn't argue. It was pretty obvious that the kid was under the weather. He did, however, add a chicken Caesar salad and a charcuterie board in the hopes that having them available on the table would encourage his picky eater to eat something a little more substantial.

While they waited, Dean pulled off his slightly damp hoodie, carefully extracting the swiss roll from the pocket without Sam seeing it just yet. They were both still pretty raw and he didn't want his little brother getting emotional again before he'd had a chance to eat a little something. Sitting on one of the leather chairs, Sam was partially slumped over with exhaustion and Dean couldn't just let him sit like that when he looked so miserable. Moving over to the bed he gathered all the big, fluffy pillows and piled them on one side propped against the headboard before going over to Sam and gently grasping his arm.

"C'mon, Sasquatch. Up you go."

Sam frowned at him, but he didn't resist, allowing his brother to lead him over to the bed and get him settled against the nest of pillows after he kicked off his wet sneakers and toed off his second pair of damp socks. Dean handed him the remote and a bottle of water from the mini bar and then called down to housekeeping for more pillows and two extra blankets.

"You're crashing with me tonight," he told Sam in no uncertain terms. "You don't look like you'd make it down to the lobby on your own power, let alone back to that poor excuse for a bed I saw in your room. Which dwarf did you steal that from, Snow White?"

Snuggling further into the pillows, Sam didn't even try to put up a fight. For the first time in...well...forever, he felt perfectly relaxed. Even the constant aches that had been plaguing him for days seemed to ease up a little and just the relief from that alone had him feeling incredibly sleepy. Despite the low growl of his empty stomach, a fog of exhaustion rolled through his mind and it was all he could do to keep his eyes open.

Especially when he couldn't help feeling that if he closed them his brother might vanish and he'd be all alone again.

Watching Sammy fight sleep brought Dean roaring back to the days when his brother was just a little thing and determined to stay up until Dad came home from a trip. He knew a hopeless cause when he saw one.

"You're not going to make it, are you?" he teased, smiling when Sam shook himself more awake and scowled.

Grabbing his emergency duffel that he'd taken to keeping in the car after the dressing down he got from Mrs. Butters about the smelly witch hunt, he pulled out a soft, clean t-shirt and an extra pair of sweats. They'd be a little too short for Sammy but Dean wouldn't tell anyone.

"Bedtime for birthday boys," he said, walking back over to Sam and tossing the clothes on the bed.

Sam huffed indignantly, but didn't have the energy to put up much of a protest. With a little help from his big brother, he got changed into Dean's clothes and climbed under the thick duvet, grabbing the remote to start flipping through the channels of the television across from the bed. He could barely keep his eyes open to even try and give the impression he was actually looking at the screen, so he didn't see what Dean was doing over at the table.

It wasn't until a small coffee cup saucer with a swiss roll and one lit candle was nudged into his line of sight that he realized what his brother had done.

"Make a wish, Sammy."

Sam looked up at his brother's anxious face, kicking himself for being partially responsible for putting it there. As the candle burned, he felt the past ten months of life as half a person fall away, making him realize that the only thing he wanted to wish for at the moment was not ever feeling like that again. He blew on the candle and broke the roll in half to give Dean his share and then nibbled on his own piece.

Finally losing the battle with sleep just as he finished eating the chocolate and before he could get scolded for not brushing his teeth before bed.

/

Dean woke up sweaty and damp, the left side of his body half numb under the weight of someone laying on him. He attempted unsuccessfully to shift slightly to get away from the oppressive heat, only to be held in place. The unexpected restraint causing his eyes to snap open and his muscles tense. His base hunter instincts immediately reacting to the feeling of being strangled.

A small sleepy spark of assessment from his addled brain coming online clarified that none of these feelings are in the fun kinky way he enjoys.

Still bordering on fight or flight mode it took him a minute to clear the whiskey cloud from his train of thought well enough to remember where he is and who is with him and he admits that it was probably a bad idea to empty the mini bar of booze too before he got into bed. Although he's not particularly comfortable at the moment, the realization of who his bed mate is, is enough to bring a small tired smile to his face and his entire being instantly relaxes.

At some point during the night Dean's giant of a little brother staged a hostile takeover of the prime real estate that is the middle of the king sized bed, as well as the majority of the thick cozy pillows, including the ones brought up by housekeeping after Sam fell asleep. Under other circumstances Dean would be in real danger of falling off the edge from the way Sam's legs are insistently shoved against his to the point that he's dangling precariously off the side.

But because his kid brother is a twelve feet tall clingy octopus he's saved from a rapid descent to the floor because Sam is currently cuddling Dean's arm like a teddy bear in his sleep. Tension on his amulet, clutched in a death grip by one of the kid's massive paws, is causing the leather thong to dig into his throat and is most likely the reason he woke up in the first place.

Something Sam hasn't done since he was pint-sized and Dad had been gone too long from their home of the week. One too many days of their father missing his return date would always make Sammy worry that John wasn't coming back this time and inevitably have him seeking out comfort and security in the stability and presence of the one person who always made him feel safe. Stopping only when the younger brother began to evolve into a moody pre-teen who kept his fear for his father well under the wraps of all his external anger.

This unusual tactile display of affection was certainly not what Dean would have expected from his newly nineteen-year old brother that he had been estranged from for the past ten months. Although Sam was definitely the more touchy-feely type as far as Winchesters go and he also had a tendency to get more physical when sick or distressed like he clearly was last night. Which would probably explain his current Kung Fu grip.

As if Sam's subconscious is worried that Dean will up and vanish in the middle of the night if Sam doesn't keep a firm hold on him.

Sam was happily snoozing away, his face placid and looking sweet and innocent like it did when he was twelve. Breaking Dean's heart in the process as he flagellates himself again for leaving the boy on his own for so long. Necessity might have made Dean grow up faster than he should have but he had always taken a small measure of pride in the fact that his little brother was allowed to be more of a kid because of Dean's protection, and even at nineteen and out on his own Sam wasn't fully grown up yet and clearly still needed his big brother around.

So Dean will endure the overt cuddling with a small smile because he's missed his kid so damn much and after almost a full year of being without him he didn't realize until just now that he hadn't taken a full deep breath until his little brother was safely back at his side. He glanced over and looked fondly at the slumbering kid in the partial darkness of the room, a warmness filling his chest as his lungs expand and contract slowly and easily. Sammy's mouth was hanging open and drooling a wet patch on the shoulder of Dean's t-shirt that would normally gross him out but right now he just finds it adorable.

Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, Dean stretched enough to grab his phone from the nightstand and checks the time and any messages. An old habit after years of not trusting cheap motel alarm clocks to be accurate. Of course the Westin is going to have nice appliances in the room but this kind of luxury is still new to him. The room doesn't have the blackout curtains he likes to draw before bed to keep any hint of daylight from waking him when needs to sleep, and the constant lights from the pool area below give a false disorientation about the hour. Right now it feels way too early to wake up, especially since he's still wiped out from the past few days.

His internal body clock is proven right when he sees that it's only a little after 4 am. He considers for just a moment shoving Sam off back onto his own side of the bed so that both of them are sleeping more comfortably, but the thought is barely in his head before he dismisses it. It's not only Sam that needs this physical comfort after such a long time apart and after how upset his little brother was last night, Dean doesn't want to give the kid any hint that he's being rejected right now.

One thing is for sure and that's the absolute certainty that he's not getting back to sleep any time soon with a floppy haired gorilla holding him hostage so something is going to have to give. Once upon a time Dean could scoop his little brother up and shift him around with relative ease but Sam's not a little boy anymore. He's still far too skinny for his height but he's not exactly a lightweight either.

It takes a few minutes of very careful nudging on his part to convince Sam's mile long legs to go back where they belong so he can situate his own more comfortably on the bed. Relocating Sam's upper body without waking him is a far more delicate task but eventually Dean's able to extricate his trapped arm, immediately feeling the relief of the pins and needles of his circulation coming back. He very slowly wraps his newly freed limb around Sammy's shoulders and draws the boy closer to his side which alleviates some of the tension on his necklace that Sam clearly refuses to relinquish even after all the shifting.

That works for another few hours because the whiskey he snagged from the mini-bar is still swimming its way through Dean's road weary and emotionally worn system but eventually he wakes up again out of habit a little before 7 am. Sam is still drooling and out for the count so Dean is reluctant to disturb him even though his bladder is fairly insistent. Instead of immediately getting out of bed he grabs his phone again and spends a few more minutes checking messages just in case Dad or Henry texted with an update on the demon hunt and then texting Lisa for a little light conversation.

Moving around just enough to slowly lure his little brother out of the deep slumber he's in, because while Sam can certainly use the rest, he also needs to eventually eat something. Once Dean gets him fed, the kid can go right back to sleep for as long as he wants.

All told it takes about twenty minutes for Sam to begin a sleepy squirm towards consciousness. Dean's fiddling with his phone with one hand while he gently rubs Sam's back with the other to slowly help him along like he did when his little brother was still actually little. Another couple of minutes later Sammy lifts his face from where he had it burrowed into Dean's shoulder and squints at his brother, a confused scrunch on his forehead that turns into a small, shy smile when he realizes who he's looking at.

A few more seconds of wakeful coherency sends the mortifying message to his brain that he's apparently snuggling against his older sibling's side and he blushes furiously and pulls away. Wiping the drool off his mouth with an absolutely horrified expression.

Dean smirks and gives his rattled little brother a quick affectionate squeeze on the back of his neck before he releases Sammy entirely, just so the boy doesn't have to be so embarrassed. Dean will always give the kid whatever he needs.

A hug. A joke. A shoulder to cry on. A lesson on girls. A kick in the ass. Whatever.

"Morning, sunshine," he says to the boy's rumpled face as Sam rubs his eyes. "Sleep okay?"

Sam yawns and nods, flipping onto his stomach and nuzzling back into the warmth and softness of the fluffy pillows. He's not quite yet ready to start the day and he's enjoying the pleasant haze of one of the best night's sleep he's had in a very long time, minor humiliation aside. For the first time in a week his head isn't completely killing him and his body pains are down to a dull roar. Dean smirks at him and pulls himself out of bed and strolls towards his duffel. He pulls out clean clothes and grabs a cold bottle of water from the mini fridge and tosses it at his drowsy little brother.

"Hydrate," he orders, getting a grunt from the bed. "I'll be out in ten and then you can wash up. You need food."

Suddenly Sam is shooting up in bed, wincing from the sudden movement. So abrupt that it stops Dean in his tracks towards the bathroom. "Shit! What time is it?"

Dean indicates the alarm clock on the nightstand with the glowing red numbers, frowning at the obvious distress in Sam's voice. "About 7:30, Sammy. What's the matter?"

Dean knows Sam's school schedule. He may be a shitty brother lately but he's not completely ignorant of the kid's moves. It's Friday and Sam's first class doesn't start until 11. Not that Dean's letting him go to class when he still looks like poop on toast. Before he can stop him, Sam's out of the bed and scrambling for the jeans he wore yesterday.

"You're not leaving yet, are you?"

Sam tries to ask the question nonchalantly but there is real fear and worry in his eyes and it crushes Dean because of course he's hanging around for a little while. He just got Sammy back and he's not exactly in a hurry to take off again. Besides the fact that they have a ton to talk about.

"I hadn't planned on it," he answers, with a concerned look on his face.

Sam beams with relief, his dimples deep. "Good." He pulls his cellphone out of the jeans pocket and scrolls through his own messages. Dean chuckles, shrugs and starts towards the bathroom, stopped when Sammy calls to him with a tentative smile on his face.

"Any chance you'd be willing to meet my friends and have breakfast with them?"

The question takes Dean by surprise because he wasn't exactly expecting Sammy to introduce his working class crude brother to his preppy college buddies. Although by the crestfallen look on the kid's face when Dean doesn't agree right away, the little snot really does seem to want to do just that.

"It's okay," Sam mutters as he tries to hide his disappointment, shrugging his shoulders as he tosses his phone on the bed and fumbles for the in-room dining menu and even giving his uneaten soup and bread a quick look of contemplation.

"We can just have something here. You probably don't really want to meet my dorky friends, do you?"

Dean looks at the kid swallowing repeatedly as he tries to hide his face behind the menu. A sure sign that Sam is tired, upset and fighting off tears.

Again

Sam's current state of vulnerability is really worrying Dean because normally his kid brother is a tough little bastard and it has him wondering just how much Sam's little stint in the hospital is still messing with him.

"Hey," he says quietly, getting Sam's attention focused back on him. "I came here to spend time with you, bitch. We can go anywhere or do anything you want. If you want to show me off to your little friends? Well personally I think that's a bit risky because they'll see that they've been hanging around with the less awesome brother, but that's up to you."

He winks to take the sting out of the jab and Sam rolls his eyes and laughs but Dean can see the relief on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Sam agrees, grinning as he picks his phone back up and starts texting. "I'll take my chances. I'll tell them to meet us at 8:30, okay?"

Dean gives the thumbs up and then disappears into the bathroom where he finally relieves himself and starts the shower going. Once he's under the hot water he tries to relax about the prospect of meeting the people that his little brother has spent the majority of the last year with. It's a hard thing to accept that these kids are in a position to know stuff about Dean's baby brother that he doesn't and that thought unnerves him in a suffocating way that he didn't realize was possible. He knows about them, sure, because they have been part of the security watch. But it's one thing to know they exist and another altogether to have to sit with them while they share in-jokes with his brother that Dean has no part in.

In fact, the very idea that they will continue to get to share Sam's life without Dean makes his stomach hurt

So it's not that he doesn't want to meet them. It's more that he's just a little jealous of these strangers who have become enough of a part of Sam's life that they rate an introduction to his absent brother so soon into Dean's visit. Not to mention the fact that Sam seems convinced that Dean is about to take off at any second instead of hanging around and making up for some of their lost time together.

He's brooding while he washes his torso and almost misses the quiet knock on the bathroom door and Sam's tentative voice asking to come in. Poor kid probably has to pee like a racehorse too after conking out so early last night, so Dean consents. It's not like they aren't used to sharing intimate spaces, although they have always tried to keep sharing bathroom facilities down to an absolute minimum. Privacy was hard enough to come by in their world as it was.

But instead he hears Sam sit down on the closed toilet seat so he pulls back the shower curtain just enough to see the worried look on the boy's face.

"You okay?"

Sam purses his lips and nods, fiddling with the edge of Dean's borrowed shirt. He's doing the rapid swallowing thing again and not talking which is odd considering whatever is going on inside his Cro-Magnon skull couldn't wait a couple of minutes for Dean to be done in the shower, so Dean ducks back under the spray and finishes up quickly. He shuts the water off and grabs a towel from the rack next to the curtain and wraps it around his waist before stepping out.

"Sammy? What's wrong, kiddo?"

Sam frowns and blinks rapidly, really working that edge before he finally looks up with pleading in his eyes.

"Can you just stay here awhile? Please? It's just that it's been a really long time and I...I miss you so much."

He swipes a hand over his eyes and looks away embarrassed because he hates looking weak in front of either Dean or their father but right now his reserves are gone.

"I know you have places you need to be," he continues, his face flushed with embarrassment, "but if you could just stay for a bit? It would really mean a lot to me."

This kind of vulnerability really isn't like Sam. Sammy has always been stubborn and bull headed and implacable. Only very rarely was he so openly insecure and it was usually after a fierce run in with their father when the guilt of saying something hurtful to John overwhelmed him and he needed to make up. Whatever Sam has been through lately is obviously messing with the kid's head because he's always tried to be such an independent little shit. Maybe he's more spooked than Dean realized which makes him wonder how much Sam actually knows.

For the first time Dean wonders if the kid really was okay during these last few months away from their little family. Milo had alluded to Sam's unhappy state of mind upon his arrival in Palo Alto a couple of times but Dean had brushed it off as the uneducated observation of a stranger. Sam knew how to keep his emotions to himself and Dean just assumed it was more than likely that an outsider would mistake his inherent shyness for sadness.

But if Milo was right that's a scenario that was too painful to accept because it would mean that his little brother was miserable and lonely when Dean was spitefully assuming Sammy was having the time of his life and keeping his distance from the kid. Which means he was also partly responsible for whatever Sam had gotten involved with that led to him being poisoned and hospitalized.

Dean suddenly felt sick.

He reached over and cupped the side of Sam's neck to get his attention, forcing his little brother to look up at him. "I'm not going anywhere, kiddo. I don't have any place more important to be, okay?"

Sam gave him a slightly pained expression before nodding his head, a small smile peeping out. He leaned into Dean's touch for just a few seconds before he stands, wrapping his long arms around himself and blushing slightly. Embarrassed that his emotions are all over the place today.

"I need to take a shower. I stink."

Recognizing that the kid's actual need is to collect himself Dean smirks and cocks an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't want to say anything," he teases, waving a hand in front of his nose and grimacing. Getting an eye roll from Sam in return for the fraternal teasing that never seemed to get old.

"Shut up, jerk," he mumbles fondly, knocking Dean's shoulder affectionately to get him out of the bathroom. "You better have saved me some hot water."

"Hey, this is a classy joint. Great pressure and all the hot water you want, kiddo. But hurry up. I'm so hungry I could eat the ass end out of a dead rhino."

Sam's face wrinkles in disgust as he places a hand on his stomach and turns a little green. His old friend nausea threatening to make a reappearance.

"Dude, it's too early in the morning for bad Point Break quotes," Sam grunts, disgusted. "Especially that one."

Dean takes the sodden towel he was using to dry his hair and whips it at Sam's hip playfully on his way out. "Bite your tongue, heathen! Swayze movies are always appropriate for every occasion. That man is a god."

Sam's out of the shower in less than ten minutes and by the time he enters the bedroom Dean is already dressed and on the phone talking to the front desk. He throws a bottle of aspirin in Sam's direction as the boy pulls on the clothes he wore last night and Sam dry swallows two and prays for the pounding in his head to stop. A quick check of his watch tells him that they have plenty of time to get to the diner to meet the others so he's not feeling particularly rushed.

"Make sure you pick up anything you're not currently wearing before we leave," Dean says as he shoves his personal items into his duffel when he hangs up. "I don't want to forget anything."

Of course Sam was expecting that. The Westin isn't some cheap flophouse. Either Dean was using a sketchy card or he only had cash for one night. Sam felt a momentary flinch of guilt over asking his brother to stretch his likely thin resources to stay in an area as pricey as Palo Alto but he really couldn't bear the idea of letting go of him just yet. He still had his windfall of money in his account as well as savings from his pay. He could easily chip in for Dean's lodging if his brother would allow him to.

So it's fair to say that Sam was more than a little surprised when Dean strolls up to the front desk to turn in his key card and gets two more in return.

"Poolside double, as you requested Mr. Winchester," says the pretty receptionist as she graces Dean with an enormous smile. "Your reservation was extended to the end of next week and if you will be staying longer we're happy to take care of that for you. We have your card on file and if there is anything else you need please let us know."

Dean took the cards and shoved one in his front pocket and then handed the second one to Sam, putting his hand on Sam's back to subtly push the gobsmacked boy towards the front door.

"She called you Mr. Winchester," Sam whispered incredulously as he let himself be nudged along.

"That's my name," Dean replied nonchalantly as he strode over to where the Impala was parked. "It's yours too, FYI, in case you were wondering."

"You're here under your real name?"

Dean pulled the keys for the Impala out of his pants pocket and opened the trunk so he could drop his duffel inside until they came back from breakfast. Standing next to the passenger door with his arms propped on the roof, Sam glares at him.

Taking a deep breath, Dean gives his brother a firm look that doesn't invite questions. "Yes. I'm here under my own name. My own money too, so don't worry about that," he clarifies when Sam looks upset over Dean pulling some kind of hustle. "I do actually make legitimate money."

Sam snaps his mouth shut, thoroughly chastised. Of course he knows that. He'd just thought that once Dean was back on the road full time he wouldn't be doing a lot of work at the salvage yard anymore. Mentally he kicks himself for almost picking a fight with his brother. The last thing he wants is for Dean to take off again before they'd had a chance to spend some time together.

"It's just that this place is a little pricey," he says, apologetically. "I'd like to stay with you while you're in town, if it's really okay. But we can go someplace a lot cheaper. There's a place just down the road that I used during Christmas break. It's not bad. I have money too. I can chip in."

Dean just stared at him for a minute. The look on his face bittersweet as he exhaled heavily.

"I got this, Sammy. Okay?"

Not wanting to take another swipe at his brother's dignity, Sam gave him a tight little smile and nodded before sliding into the shotgun seat. The familiar leather assaulted his senses with thousands of memories, but it wasn't unpleasant. He rubbed his hand affectionately across her dash and sighed contentedly.

He was home.

/

Dean doesn't particularly want to be sitting in this little diner in a booth with a too small table and uncomfortably smushed against the wall by strangers.

He doesn't like strangers on the best of days because as far as he's concerned they are all suspect, and he really doesn't like strangers in his immediate space in public where he can't keep his hand on his weapon at all times.

But apparently this is where his kid has breakfast every Friday morning and right now Sammy is sitting across the table from him smiling with all the dimples, clearly on cloud nine, so Dean suppresses the urge to punch something and shifts slightly so he's at least got access to his silverware. Because yeah, his little brother is happily reveling in the idea of having all of his favorite people around the too small table right now and Dean's gonna give the kid whatever he wants as long as he keeps smiling like that.

Showing infinite patience he refrains from body checking Luis the third time his foot is stepped on because a pretty little waitress that seems to know everyone else at the table by name strolls over and openly eye-fucks him while she asks for his order. With that little development Dean is on terra firma and he flatters and flirts his way through an obnoxiously large order because he's starving and because it makes his little brother uncomfortable.

Although Sammy's smile remains in place, a fondness in his eyes, and Dean's chest clenches because God how he missed this kid.

Across the table Brady is sitting jammed directly against Sam, even though Emily has gone to the ladies room and there isn't really a good reason why Brady needs to be surgically sewn to Sam unless it's another way the kid is trying to mark his territory.

Dean gets it. He does.

As far as Brady knows, Sam's big brother has been MIA for the past eight months since school started while Brady has been here. Unfortunately kid, Dean is here now and he's not going anywhere unless Sam wants him to so you might as well get used to it.

As cute as it would normally be to see Sammy have a buddy that clearly values him, Dean was first on the scene in his little brother's life which means he gets permanent dibs.

Sorry not sorry, Brady.

At the end of the table, Cheech, who Dean was informed is actually Zach, is playing footsies with his girl Emily who has returned from the ladies room and is currently adding what looks like half a pound of sugar to his mug of coffee.

"So what was Sam like growing up?" Zach asks with a mischievous grin on his face. "He never wants to talk about himself and we're kind of wondering if he's like in witness protection or something."

Dean chuckles but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. Sam has gone suddenly quiet and motionless across from him and Dean can just imagine what the kid is worried that he will say. He's a little hurt because Sammy should know that his big brother isn't enough of an asshole to drag their family laundry into the middle of this little diner.

"Witness protection?" Dean flashes his most charming smile that he uses to con people on the job. "Nah, Sammy isn't nearly that interesting.

Between the six of them they're drinking their way through at least their third whole pot of coffee by the time the waitress and two helpers come over to unload all the plates on the too small table. Because of the massive amount being slid around Dean doesn't notice right away that his giant little brother only has a sad solitary small plate in front of him containing nothing besides a pathetic looking medium sized muffin.

He cocks an eyebrow at Sammy before shooting a glare at the offending pastry and Sam purses his lips again and deflates a little because he knows what's coming.

"That's your usual order, Sammy? You're eight feet tall, kiddo. That poor excuse for a meal wouldn't keep a little girl alive."

This is the point where Sam would usually get his back up and tell his nosy brother to mind his own damn business about what Sam chooses to put in his stomach, but he doesn't. Instead he just sighs which Dean knows is him capitulating and allowing a little mother henning. Which is a good thing because Dean's kid may be skyscraper tall but he's skin and bones and that's just going to have to change now that big brother is back on the job.

So he calls their server over, which isn't really hard because she's been keeping him in her peripheral ever since he stepped into the diner, and orders pancakes, poached eggs, bacon and fruit for Sam with so much charm in his voice you would think he was reciting romantic sonnets to her from the way she beams at him. Sam shakes his head but he's smiling as he nibbles on his muffin and is completely oblivious to the incredulous glare that Brady is sending Dean's way.

When Dean just smiles back at him, Brady must have felt the need to regain the upper hand in the battle for Sam by saying the first thing that brings Dean crashing back down to the ground since he hugged his little brother in his dorm last night.

"So, Sam. I just heard back from one of my buddies from back home about our summer vacation. He's bringing along his new girlfriend and her incredibly hot twin sisters who just finished up their sophomore year at UCLA. Twins, buddy. What do you say?"

Although the statement is directed at Sam, Brady is staring straight at Dean while he speaks. Dean doesn't back down from anything and certainly not a staring contest with a kid Sammy's age. Brady may think he's a tough guy but Dean kills monsters for a living and the boy has no idea just how far out of his depth he really is right now.

"Twins, huh?" he asks, with a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. "That does sound like a fun time, Sammy."

Brady matches his smile, obviously thinking that he's won their little custodial fight over Dean's baby brother. But Dean's baby brother is now slumped down in his seat and trying very hard to investigate the molecular structure of his pitiful muffin.

"I told him that coming to Utah with me for break would be much more fun than sweating his ass off washing dishes at that crummy restaurant," Brady says smugly, not realizing how denigrating he was being about Sam's essential job. "He's going to have the time of his life, if I have anything to say about it."

Dean stares down the little prick and counts to ten in his head to keep himself from going over the table at him. Because this is Sam's turf and he's not about to make a scene and embarrass his kid anymore than he already is. Sam looks up at him, not with the puppy dog eyes that Dean would expect from him, but with a look that's just sad and uncomfortable, and Dean's simply done with all the posturing and the distance and the secrecy and everything else that's been keeping his kid from being with his family.

"Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Tyson," he begins with a shrug, "but Sammy's not going to be around to hang out with you and the twins this summer."

He turns to face his brother, who is still staring at him, and softens his voice. "Sam's coming home with me."

That announcement gets the entire table's attention, with Zach and Luis looking at each other in shock and Brady silently fuming, while the brothers have an entire conversation between each other without speaking a word.

Dean holds his breath while waiting for his brother's reaction to the announcement. Either Sam will hold his ground and deny it and wait until they are alone to tell Dean to fuck off for even suggesting it or the kid will agree that it's time for him to come home. Whatever Sam decides, the ball is in his court.

"Sam?" Brady asks, his confidence noticeably slipping. "Is that true?"

Sam takes a shaky breath and makes his peace with his decision. His time at Stanford has been great, no doubt. But having Dean back in his life, when he wasn't sure if he'd ever see his brother again, makes him realize that he misses him too much. Coming out here had been a terrible idea on a lot of levels and maybe Dean would still be willing to work out some kind of arrangement like they talked about last year and they could find another place for Sam to study and hunt part time. Dad would be furious, but he'd just have to deal because now that Sam had his brother back he wasn't letting go of him again.

"Yeah," he confirms, still looking directly at Dean. "It's true."

Across the table, Dean visibly relaxes, relief etched all over his face. But he doesn't look away from Sam either when he continues.

"Well, not until after his finals, obviously," he says casually. "And don't worry, Tyson. I'll have him back here in plenty of time before fall classes start. But you guys are just going to have to get used to him not being around during the breaks. Sam's going to be coming back home for them from now on."

Sam's breathing sputters for a quick second before he breaks out into the largest smile Dean has ever seen on the kid. It's like the sun has come out on a cloudy day and it lights up the entire diner.

Dean's not sure how they're going to swing it with their father, but anything that makes his little brother this happy is definitely worth it. And Henry is just going to have to understand that Sam is entitled to all the happiness that Dean can help give him. He's just a damn kid and he doesn't deserve to have demons on his ass and centuries of family responsibility laid on his shoulders when all he should be worrying about is getting good grades, drinking crap beer like the rest of the students and occasionally getting laid.

By this time, Sam's new food order arrives and they shift their plates around to make more room to accommodate his. Dean takes his fork and points at Sam.

"Eat, Sammy," he says sternly. "We're not going anywhere until at least half of that is gone."

Sam rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling as he picks up his fork. "Okay, Mom," he says with a feigned long suffering sigh.

He digs in with an appetite he hasn't had since he can't remember when and Dean returns the smile before he goes back to inhaling his own food, clearly glad that his little brother is taking in some desperately needed calories.

The rest of the meal passes pleasantly with Dean regaling Sam's friends with embarrassing stories from his childhood that have the younger Winchester blushing, even if his smile remains firmly intact. Nothing too personal or having to deal with their less than nuclear family style of living. Silly things like putting Nair in Sam's shampoo and Sam puking up enough Halloween candy on a girl he had a crush on to do a fairly good impersonation of Regan MacNeil in The Exorcist.

The only thing marring their time together being an occasionally snarky comment from a petulant Brady who has just seen his summer plans go up in smoke. He takes several jabs at Dean in particular, who is well versed enough in dealing with assholes that he doesn't let it bother him. Especially since Sam is laughing and eating up a storm and that's all that matters.

But when the meal is over and Dean beats Brady to the punch by throwing a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover everyone's orders, Brady's had enough.

"Sam was in the hospital last week," he snaps. "Where the hell were you then, big brother?"

The table falls immediately silent as Dean calmly sips the last of his coffee and stares Brady down before looking at Sam, whose face has fallen. Hiding the sunshine back behind a gray cloud.

"Sammy, I'm gonna go get the car. Meet you outside?"

Sam nods jerkily and Zach and Luis scramble to get out of the booth so Dean can pass. Once he's out the door, Sam whips his head to glare at his friend.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem?" Brady bites back incredulously. "You don't see him all year. He doesn't come when you're in the hospital. Then he shows up and starts ordering you around. Treating you like a child. That's cool with you?"

"Brady, man, take it down a thousand," Luis cautions. "This is family business."

"Oh yeah," Brady sneers. "He's really treated Sam like family all year. That's why Sam spent Thanksgiving with me and Christmas alone in a motel."

Sam's hands curl into fists on the table and he's working hard to keep his temper. Emily is pulling Zach towards the door so he doesn't get involved, but Luis is hovering just in case it gets really ugly.

"You have no idea what you're talking about Brady," Sam says as calmly as he can. "My brother practically raised me. He's allowed to order me around a little when he gets concerned."

"Is that right, Sammy," Brady says bitterly.

Sam takes another deep breath and sees the Impala pull up in front of the diner through the window. "Look," he says patiently. "You have a douche for a brother. And I'm sorry about that. Really I am. But I don't, so don't put your crap on me."

He shoves Brady to make the other boy move out of his way, which smartly he does. But before Sam goes he turns and hardens his eyes. "And he's the only one who gets to call me Sammy."

Then he walks out the door and leaves his friends speechless in his wake.

/

Sam is quiet in the car all the way back to the Westin. The fatigue he's been fighting is starting to show on his face again as the brothers make their way to their new room. It's on the ground floor and has a patio door out to the pool area and Dean has plans on getting them some swimming trunks so they can enjoy the nice weather.

He waits until Sam is relaxed and curled up on the sofa before broaching the enormous topic that has to be discussed.

"Would you really have just left with me today?" he asks. "Just collected your stuff and got in the car?"

Sam looks up and stares him right in the eyes when he nods. "Yep. I told you. I missed you. If you wanted me to leave, I would leave."

Dean nods and then sits down next to him and takes a deep breath.

"Then we have a lot to talk about."