Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

I gave birth to most of this brainchild before the finale, but I incorporated a few things after I saw it. I can't believe I'm jumping into this gigantic pool of fandom now, but eh, gotta get the plot bunnies out of my head.

Spell it out

He didn't tell me that he had gotten the call. I wasn't surprised. Omission in the name of protection was an old, old song between us. I asked around, found out he had taken the Impala out. I asked around a little more and found out he was seen with his fishing gear.

My brother had a few local fishing spots he rotated through, but I figured at a time like this he'd head for his favorite. It was only an hour or so drive. I pulled up in my economical sedan. When I reached the spot, I found his gear and a few fish hanging on shore.

"Dean!" I called and looked around. I heard a blurping sound from the lake. I shaded my eyes with my hand and looked out across the crystal water. I spotted some uncharacteristic current and followed it to its origin: a backlit, hairy rock. It blinked. "Dude, I see you. Your silver fox hair isn't exactly camouflage."

Splash. Dean popped up out of the water for a second, looked over his left shoulder and then sank back to his neck in the water. "Course, I know. I just, uh, slipped."

He didn't make a move. I waited a few awkward moments before I called, "Can we talk?"

"Sure," he replied, but didn't move from the lake.

"On shore?" I added, annoyed.

"Hot day… the water's great!" He splashed his arms around.

I rolled my eyes. "I didn't bring my swim trunks."

"I didn't either," he replied sheepishly. "I wasn't expecting company," he explained.

I ran my hands over my face and hair. I carried his towel to the end of he dock and dropped it. I walked back to shore and kept my back to the dock.

"Thanks," he said gruffly. I heard the dock creek as he pulled himself up. He made some various grunting noises as he dried off. He paused for a second, sighed, and then I heard him limp down the dock toward me. "I'm all secured. No peeksies."

I turned around. Dean continued to limp toward me, towel around his waist. It'd been two years since his accident put him on he bench. He was shifted up to the hunter reserve roster only about six months ago after over a year of physical therapy. He didn't like it much, but he hadn't seemed particularly angry about it. Not like he would have in the old days.

"So, what's up, Sammy?" Dean postured and put his hands on his hips. "I figured I had a few days before my name came up in the rotation again."

"It's not a case," I started, and then something caught my eye, glistening on Dean's left shoulder. I pointed, "Is that a new tattoo?"

Dean's smile faded. I thought a saw a little blush in his cheeks. He looked at the ground, coughed, and waltzed past me toward a camping chair. "Nope." He reached down to the left of the chair and pulled two beers out of a cooler. He leaned over and held one out to me.

I grabbed it. Dean gestured toward the cooler. I used it to open the beer and then attempted to get comfortable, but it was a little short for my long legs. I opened my mouth to get to the reason I tracked him, but it was a difficult subject, even for me. I closed my mouth and shook my head. When I met Dean's gaze again I asked, "When'd you get it?" I nodded to the tattoo.

"While back." We stalemated for a bit. He sighed, looked away and answered, "A couple months after the last big 'A' Apocalypse."

The surprised look on my face was only half a reaction to his answer. I mean, our last big 'A' Apocalypse was, god, years ago. I counted some landmark holidays. Wait, had it been decade already?

The other half of the surprise I felt was that he broke the stalemate first. The news he got on the phone must have been really bad. He'll talk about anything else. But if his lips were loose, maybe I could get him to open up about something. "How come I didn't notice?"

"Sorry, Sam. Didn't realize you wanted regular strip teases."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you been hiding it?"

He shrugged and swigged his beer. He looked at the bottle in his hand instead of at me.

"Why'd you get it, then? Drinking binge?"

He shook his head. "I was worried I'd forget."

We both looked at the lake and were quiet for a minute. More of a respectful silence than anything else.

After a few more swigs, I broke the silence. "Were you?" I paused. "Forgetting?"

Dean put the bottle to his lips. "No." He tilted back his head and emptied the bottle. I stood halfway up and pulled out two more beers from the cooler I was sitting on. I handed one to Dean and put the other on the ground near my feet. No way I could keep pace with him and expect to be sober enough to drive home before dark.

"It felt good, though, you know. Putting it out there, in words."

I squinted over at the cursive writing at the base of the tattoo: My Salvation. I snorted. "Felt so good, you covered it up for years."

"Just cause you didn't see it, doesn't mean no one saw it. Anya was impressed."

I rolled my eyes. "Anya had a tattoo fetish and left as soon as her ex got out of prison." Dean shrugged. I paused. "Why'd you hide it from me?"

"Wife beaters went outta style," was his sarcastic reply. He shrugged and talked to his beer. "Wasn't ready to answer any of your questions about it."

I raised an eyebrow. "And now you are?"

Dean nodded and looked at me. "And now I am."

I looked the beer in my hand. "What changed?"

"You know what changed," he chided.

He was right; I knew the answer. I wanted to hear the words from him. "Enlighten me, please."

Dean groaned and his head lobbed back and forth. "Why ya gotta make me say it?" he whined. "I mean, it was only a matter of time. Pancreatic cancer gets all the greats. Patrick Swayze. Alan Rickman."

"Ruth Bader Ginsburg," I added. "So you're not going to even fight this thing?"

"It's not a thing, Sammy. It doesn't think or drink blood. It's my own body is saying that I'm on the last lap." He skimmed his hand against his bottle and added, "Home stretch." He paused. "I'll do some treatments. Nothing that's gonna put me back in a hospital bed for more than day. I've had enough of that." He took another drink. "Eh, even so, doc said that the odds aren't good."

I wanted to yell at him for waiting so long to see the doctor in the first place, but it wouldn't do any good. It'd just make a stain on what could be our last months, maybe weeks together. Only angry words floated around in my head right then, so I didn't say anything at all. I felt my eyes welling up. I knocked back the rest of my drink and started on another.

Dean was mostly dry by then and went off to put his clothes back on. I gave him as much privacy as I could. Reflected on some of the things we said.

Dean returned in his classic flannel, strutting as best he could with his bum knee. "At least it isn't stomach cancer. I'da been suspicious dick angels were involved. We don't need any more o'them." He pointed at me for a fresh beer, and then reclaimed his camping chair.

As I handed it to him, I asked, "So you're giving up?"

Dean sighed. "I'm tired, Sammy." He swirled the beer around in his bottle. "You know, I used to be all 'Let me go out big, shot down in a blaze of glory.' And now," he chuckled, "I'm glad it's this way. Can't let some lucky monster get a giant ego over offin' the Legendary Dean Winchester."

I snorted. "Legendary?"

Dean leaned back, stretched out his legs, and crossed them at the ankles. "Wild. Dean. Winchester." He grinned and put his hands behind his head.

I knew that grin. My brother was imagining a statue made in his honor. Probably dressed as a cowboy.

I shook my head and leaned forward on the cooler. "I just can't believe you're leaving me."

"You don't need me anymore, Sam. Look at all you've built over the years: the Hunter's network, started Winchester Academy. Weekend workshops, Sheriff retreats. Hell, you got Hunters with legit gigs as police consultants."

"It wasn't just me. I had help."

"You made the vision happen." Dean turned his head to look me in the eye. "I'm proud of you." He turned back to the lake, the first of the sunset colors reflecting on the water. "Now, not all of your programs I agreed with – "

"Even cops have mandatory counseling sessions after – "

"Look," he interrupted, "no reason to get into this old argument again. I've made my peace with Mia."

"Are you?" I asked. "At peace?"

Dean made a dismissive snort. "I made peace with Mia ages ago."

"No, I mean," I paused as I looked for the exact words to get to my point without making Dean clam up emotionally. "Are you at peace with what's going on with you? The cancer? I'm sure we could find an angel out there somewhere –"

"No. No more angels, demon deals, or reaper tricks." Dean said concretely. "I'm ready to move on. I've been ready for a while now."

That surprised me. The last time I saw Dean's self-destructive, ready-to-die attitude was after Lucifer killed Cas and he thought Mom died. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I'm not suicidal, if that's what you're hinting at." He sighed. "Really, the only thing that's been keeping me from being recklessly stupid the last couple years is not to make C – our friends sacrifices in vain. And your rugrats with their huge doe-y eyes." He shook his head. "They are so ugly when they cry."

"Not me?" I was a little insulted.

Dean smirked. "Oh, you're plenty ugly too." I conveyed my 'will you stop deflecting and answer the question' face. He relented eventually. "You don't need me, anymore. Haven't for a long time."

"I'll always need my big brother."

"If you don't have my voice in your head making you second guess all the stupid decisions you make by now…." he trailed off. "I'll make you a video or something."

The sky was starting to dim over the lake. The sun had gone below the treeline. We didn't say anything for a few minutes. Dean shook his head. "I need you to tell me it's okay."

"What?"

"I need to hear it, Sammy. I'm tired. I'm ready. But I can't go…."

I sighed. I moved the cooler a bit so I could lean back against a tree trunk. Still not very comfortable. I noticed that his beer was empty, again. I chugged mine down and pulled out two more. I texted for a ride to pick us both up in an hour or so. I turn my whole body toward my brother. "Dean – " I started. I could feel my throat swelling up. "I'll miss you."

He pointed a finger at me. "You'd better."

Half my mouth smiled. "It won't be the same with you in Heaven and me down here."

Dean's eyes darted away. "Uh-huh."

I narrowed my eyes. He was hiding something. Something more than a tattoo. "'Uh-huh.' What aren't you saying?"

He stretched and ran his hand along his jeans. His head bobbled back and forth. "I've lived the afterlife options: Hell, Heaven, Purgatory. To be honest, reliving your greatest hits in Heaven sounds boring as hell."

My eyes widened, "You want to go to Purgatory?!"

"What? No!"

"Then where?"

Dean leaned forward and looked at the lake. "I've been praying to Jack. He's gonna let me go where Cas is." He squinted at the sunset. "I think. It kept raining the morning after I'd pray, and Jack said he was in every raindrop, so I think he agreed. I mean, you'd think the kid would know that I need a more obvious sign, but that's all he'd give me."

"Really? The Empty? Sleeping in eternal regrets?"

"I thought about this. A lot. I'm kinda curious of what happens to the Empty of regrets, when someone pops in whose biggest regret is resolved by being there." He chuckled. "You know I like to mix things up and see if they go boom. Break the rules."

My eyes widened. Did he finally confess to me his feelings for Cas? What, what do I say?

"Biggest regret?" I asked. I filled my mouth with beer so I wouldn't make a smart-ass remark. I could feel the dam that was holding back years of brotherly teasing about loving an angel was cracking.

Dean shook his head and then rubbed his shoulders. "Yeah…biggest regret."

"Which was….?" I led.

His head snapped to meet my eyes. "You saw the tattoo!" he snapped. "Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

Sure, he finally let me see a tattoo of Cas's handprint that was once burned into his flesh when they first met, that matched the bloody marking Cas made on Dean's jacket at their last moments together. But this was my brother. If he didn't say it, he'd keep denying it. I raised my eyebrow. "Don't you? Spelling was never my best subject."

He glared at me. I kept my eyebrows raised in expectation. He took a long pull on his beer, and then resumed his glare. He winced, losing the staring contest and rubbed his back. The cancer reminded him he was mortal. My face softened.

Dean sighed, and repositioned himself to reduce the pain. "I didn't show Cas enough, what did he say that one day, 'appreciation'. I was an outright dick sometimes, because I couldn't admit how much he meant to me."

"Sometimes?" Frustration from all those times of mediating pseudo-old married couple bickering was leaking out of my mouth. The Lily Sunder case came to the forefront of my mind.

He glared at me out of the corner of his eye. His look told me I needed to back off or he was taking his greatest regret to his grave. I raised my hands up defensively.

Dean took another swig and looked at the darkening lake. "When he was around I felt…stronger; I felt safe. Didn't matter if I was pissed at him or if the room was on fire… We were just better together, you know?"

I didn't reply. Sometimes silence is a better way to get Dean to say more. I learned that from watching Cas.

"If I'm going into the eternal retirement…" He looked down and shook his head. "I don't know, I want to feel that again. With less of the baggage this time around."

'Oh, my god, just say it already,' I screamed in my head, like I had done a million times before. Out loud I patiently and empathically asked. "What baggage?"

"You know, the baggage. All these messages telling me what I was feeling was wrong. 'Unnatural.' 'Don't ask, don't tell.' Whatever. Things that I let get in and take root. Made me double down on the other feelings I had, because those were okay. 'Course it seriously backfired, because I couldn't manage those for the same reason.

"Don't get me wrong, I love women, but even when I was trying, really trying, like with Lisa and Ben, Cassie, I kept myself back. I wasn't fully relaxed. I had to protect them. I had to be the rock, you know."

"When Cas was around, I didn't need to do that. Hell, he wouldn't let me do that. When I tried, he'd tilt his head and do his big, blue-eyed 'do you really think I'd buy that' stare." Dean chuckled and his eyes glazed over. He was remembering something. I didn't interrupt.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Dean stated, "It's getting dark. Should we pack it up and hit the road?"

I squinted at him. "We are not driving. I've got a ride coming for us."

Dean raised his eyebrows at me. "I ain't one of your Junior Hunters to your Mother Hen. And I ain't leaving Baby here alone all night."

I rolled my eyes. I watch him pack up his gear in Baby's back seat. I carried the cooler over to him, after grabbing one more pair of beers from it. I walked silently down to the end of the dock, took my shoes off, rolled up my pants, sat down, and swung my feet over the end. The water was warmer than the air as it retained the heat from the summer sun.

I listened to the car door open and close with all of its squeaks. Then nothing. The door squeaked again. I smiled. I heard Dean patting down his pockets. Now I was grinning. Footsteps pounded over to the dock.

"Keys," he demanded, annoyed.

I turned my head and feigned innocence. "What keys?"

Dean slowly walked down the dock. He used his hostage negotiation voice. "Baby isn't yours yet. Keys are still mine."

I broke out in a wide smile and turned back to the lake. I knew what was coming next. Dean closed the distance and pounced. I shifted my weight and flipped him into the lake. I didn't execute it perfectly, though, and he managed to grab my calf on the way down.

We wrestled in the water for a bit. Eventually he got the upper hand and started dunking me repeatedly. "Keys!" he shouted when I'd surface.

Eventually, I tapped him. "Uncle! Uncle!" Dean let go, and I swam out of arms reach.

"Keys!" he repeated.

"All right, all right." I said. I reached down under the water to the pockets of my jeans. After a few seconds I put on a confused expression. I increased my flailing and widened my eyes. "Uh, oh."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Uh, they must have fallen out when I went in the water," I said convincingly.

"What?" he growled and attacked me. I managed to get the upper hand this time. When he called 'Uncle', I gave my demands. "No driving. One more beer while we wait for our ride."

"What about my keys?"

I shrugged. "Guess you'll have to get the spare set." Dean growled and hauled himself up on the dock.

I followed. The night air against my soaked clothes was cold. Dean headed to Baby and got his mostly wet towel and a blanket. I exchanged an opened beer for the blanket, and we sat down next to each other for last call.

I checked my phone that was safe in my dry shoes on the deck. Our ride was still a ways out. I decided to pick up the conversation again. "So, the Empty?" I asked.

Dean smirked at the lake. "Unless Cas annoyed the cosmic being enough to spit him out again. You know what a pain-in-the-ass he could be."

I snorted. "Even Chuck was annoyed after resurrecting him a few times."

"'The one off-the-line with a crack in his chassis,'" Dean quoted.

I nodded my bottle at my brother. "You ever think that maybe we resisted Chuck's favorite ending for so long was because of Cas? I mean, Chuck said he was the only version that joined Team Free Will. Maybe we weren't all that special. Maybe it was him."

Dean made a short nod. "I know it."

I chuckled at a memory, and then I attempted to make my voice lower and gravelly so I could share it. "'I'll be your third wheel. A third wheel adds extra grip, greater stability.'"

Dean laughed louder than I had heard him in recent weeks. "Damn straight," he stated and clinked his bottle with mine.

As Dean wrung out his shirt, I looked at the tattoo of Cas's handprint. "That is a pretty awesome testament to Cas."

Dean sighed and slumped. "That nerdy angel died believing I could never love him back."

"I don't think so. Cas knew."

"No, he didn't," Dean said firmly. "Those were literally some of his last words."

I scrunched my face in confusion. "Last words? There were last words?"

Dean put his shirt back on. "Whole speech actually. Little wordy, covered a lot of topics."

"What? I thought Billie was chasing you, and then he summoned the Empty – When was there time for a speech?"

Dean's head wobbled back and forth. "Billie was chasing us through the bunker Mike Myers style. Cas put up some warding on 7B. That's why his hand was all bloody." Dean reached up and touched his shoulder. "We were cornered. Cas had hope of outlasting Billie until her wound killed her, but I didn't. While I circled the despair drain, Cas realized he could summon the Empty."

"How? With some sort of spell?"

"No. He made a deal at some point. The Empty would be summoned and take him when he experienced 'a moment of true happiness.'" Dean used air quotes for emphasis.

My face blanched. "Like, Buffy-Angel style?"

Dean was taken aback. "What? No. There definitely wasn't time for that."

"What was his true happiness?"

Dean sighed. "He got all philosophical and said, 'Happiness wasn't in the having. It was in the being.'"

I jolted. I had heard Dean say that to a few people over the years. Usually kids struggling with one thing or another. I figured he got it from a movie or something. Knowing where those words had come from and who had given those words to him, made the phrase all the more impactful.

Dean continued, "Cas said he knew he could never have what he really wanted, but it was enough to be true to himself. He told me – he told me he loved me…" Dean choked and stopped talking for a few moments, but I knew there was more. "He told me he loved me, grabbed my shoulders, and then threw me into the wall and out of the way."

I reached out to my brother and patted him on the back. "It's okay to feel –"

"It's not okay," he snapped. "It's far from okay. He was saying all these things, about who I thought I was, who I really am, how I changed him… and all I could do was stand there like a deer in headlights. I couldn't move. I could barely get any words to come out. And the ones that did come out were so stupid. 'Why are you telling me this?' 'What are you talking about?'" Dean rubbed his hand over his face. I could hear tears welling in his voice. "I'm such a dumbass. Why do these things take me so long to figure out, Sammy?"

I reached out to put my hand on his back again. "Well, Dean. We didn't exactly have the most emotionally healthy childhood. It's harder to learn those tools later in life. You get in bad habits of bottling things up, pushing things down, and then exploding all over those you loved the most, because we were there and you thought you deserved to be alone."

Dean nodded and looked at the bottle in his hands. "Remember how angry I was then? After we found out we were Chuck's puppets."

"Hard to forget."

"I think… I know part of it was 'cause I thought Chuck wrote those feelings into me. For men. For Cas. I thought the 'unnatural' part of me was Chuck twisting me up for his own amusement. And I punished Cas for it. Pushing Cas away meant Chuck wouldn't get what he wanted." Dean snorted. "No wonder Cas thought I couldn't love him."

My jaw dropped. Back then, I knew Dean's attitude wasn't all about grief for Mom and Jack, but I hadn't figured out what else it could be. I had never considered what Dean just confessed to me. "Cas had some self-worth issues, too. It wasn't 100% on you."

Dean clenched his jaw and nodded. "Okay, thanks. 99%, then."

I rolled my head. "Dean -"

Dean interrupted forcefully, "How many second chances did I get, Sammy? And what did I do with them?"

"Make him wear a cowboy hat to indulge your fetish?" spilled out before I could stop myself. The dam was breaking.

Dean stood up and stomped away.

"Dean!" I called. "I'm sorry. Come back. Sit."

My brother paced back and forth midway on the dock a few times before returning. He sat down and drained the last of his beer.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again. "You've gotta understand. I've been wanting to tease you about this for years. Years. But I knew if I pushed too much, you'd dig deeper into the closet. And Cas hated wearing that hat. I think he hated all hats. But he wore it, because it made you happy."

Dean rubbed his face and remained silent. He took a drink. "How long?"

"How long what?" I asked.

"How long did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Know…" he paused, struggling with verbalizing it. "How long did you know I had feelings for Cas?"

"You almost said it there." I held up my thumb and index finger near my face. "This close."

Dean let out an exasperated sigh. "What do you want from me?"

"You need to say it out loud, Dean. Out loud to me. Not in a tattoo or subtext, but lay it out. You said it felt good to get the tattoo. Imagine how relieved you'll feel saying it to me."

Dean stared out over the lake and sighed. "I had feelings for Cas," he eventually mumbled.

"What?" I leaned in and put a hand to my ear.

"I love Castiel," he managed at an audible volume. I raised my eyebrow in response, a little curious about the present tense. It's not like he had a committed or exclusive relationship since Cas's death, but it had been years.

Dean took my silence while I was processing as a demand for more. He wobbled his head and snorted. "In more than an friendly manner," he added. "Not like a brother. Although that's what I kept telling him."

I waited a few seconds, and then I exhaled loudly. "How do you feel now that you've said it?"

"Like an idiot." Dean kicked the water.

"Why?"

"Apparently you knew, and I didn't. I felt I was blindsided, standing there looking at his smiling face with tears in his eyes while Billie was pounding down the warding… It haunts me. And you knew for who knows long."

I looked down at my beer. "I noticed something had changed after you came back from Purgatory. When Cas was human, I was so sure something was going to happen. You were… " I struggled to find a good word for it. Not overtly flirting, but you could not wipe the grin off his face, "…twitterpated."

"Twitterpated? I have never, in my life, been twitterpated."

"Uh-huh," I nodded sarcastically. "You kept touching him unnecessarily and giving him your flirty smile. The one you save for waitresses and Blanche Devereaux's." Dean shook his head in denial. I rolled my eyes. "I can text you the photos tomorrow, if you want."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Photos?"

I lazily nodded my head. "I may have been taking photos of you two the entire car ride back to the bunker and sending them to Charlie."

Dean increased the intensity on his confused face one notch. "Charlie? Our Charlie?"

I looked at my brother sincerely. "Dean… it wasn't just me that knew. Everybody knew."

Dean's confused face cranked up two notches. "Huh?"

"That you and Cas liked each other 'in more than a friendly manner.'" I added air quotes. "We knew. We had bets."

Dean's confused face morphed into insulted face. "Excuse me?!"

I explained plainly. "There was a pool going. Charlie made it an app; Kevin developed the scoring."

"An app?!"

"Charlie was obsessed after reading the Supernatural books. Why do you think a lesbian was using adjectives like 'dreamy' to describe Castiel? She was trying to get you to see straight. Or bi- or whatever."

"Just how many people were in this pool?!"

"Not that many." I paused. "Like 10 or 12."

"10 or 12!?"

I continued, "That's not including the waitlist. We had some requirements before you could put in: meeting you both, not a demon. Jody was pissed, because it took her so long to meet Castiel in person."

"Jody?! Jody was in on this?"

"Dean, I know you think you are smooth, but you weren't fooling anyone."

"Except the person who mattered." Silence fell between us again. Eventually Dean asked, "So who won this pool?"

I look up at the sky. "I'd have to check the numbers to be sure, but…I'm pretty sure it was Mom."

"Mom?! Mom knew?"

I laughed. "You think a mother can't tell who makes her son happy? It was one of the first 'blanks' she wanted to fill in about her boys after you rescued me from the British Men of Letters. I actually went back to the security footage in the library to see this 'reunion hug' that tuned her in."

Dean scrunched his face in confusion. "It was just a hug."

"Uh-huh," I said sarcastically again. "Mom also mentioned some eye language-code thing, where you got him to ask Mom to stay outside when you tried to rescue me." Dean stayed silent. "When she entered the pool she told me she hoped she was wrong, and you'd figure it out and have years together."

"Mom was always cynic." He paused and then shook his head. "I'm such a dumbass."

Headlights shimmered through the trees. "That's our ride," I announced and stood up, putting my phone in my pocket. I extended my hand and helped Dean up.

As we made our way down the dock, I smirked. "You know, I think I can spell it out now." I leaned over and whispered, "D.E.S.T.I.E.L." Without breaking pace or turning, Dean put a hand on my upper arm and shoved me off the dock into three feet of water.

"Dammit, Dean!" I yelled and splashed. "My phone was in my pocket."

My brother sneered. "That makes us even."

"Your keys are in the cooler, not the lake! I was playing you!" I exclaimed.

Dean shrugged unapologetically, and then picked up his pace to Baby. As I regained my footing and walked toward shore, I heard the squeaks and groans of the car. I felt the heat rising in my chest and face as I knew the growl of the engine would start soon. He wrecks my phone, and now he reneges on his promise. But the starter didn't sound. When I reached the parking lot I heard voices.

"'bout time, old man," Dean called to me. "Woulda thought you could catch up with those giraffe legs o' yours."

Dean surprised me again today. My face showed it. "You decided to tuck Baby in for the night?"

Dean shrugged. "No reason to cut my time with my bro any shorter. Plus, we did have a deal."

Tears welled up in my eyes again. I put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you." I gulped. "And I'll be okay."

Dean smiled. "I know you will, loser." I could see tears welling up in his eyes as well. "No chick flick moments," he said and pulled me around into a headlock and ruffled my hair. I escaped his grasp, and we settled in the car for the ride back, savoring every last moment we could share.