The drive back to town was silent, heavy in a way that Dean couldn't bring himself to break. He kept his gaze straight ahead to the window, watching his brother from the corner of his eyes.

His brother looked even worse in the half light of the street lights as they passed. He would tighten his grip on the steering wheel every now and then, eyes flicking to the rear view mirror, but otherwise, not moving.

Dean couldn't get the image out of his mind, the reminder of the body that they had left back in the warehouse as a prime example of just how far his brother had fallen. Sam had killed a man for god's sake and was in the belief that the man was a demon and deserved it.

He remembered how strong Sam was, the hint of strength he had felt when Sam had lifted him and even when he had punched his brother, it almost felt like he was punching solid metal. Sams clothes were a bit loose on him but when they pressed against him or rose slightly, Dean could see a hint of abs and muscles.

He did go to the gym regularly, more to keep in shape than to gain muscle for anything else. He knew that he was fit and capable of defending himself against an average man, but Sam wasn't average, he was built and taken care of in a way to make sure that he could fight back.

If Sam snapped and decided to turn on him, Dean knew that he didn't have that much of a chance in winning it.

Despite it he didn't feel afraid for his life. Despite knowing what his brother had done, Dean wasn't afraid of him. Maybe Sam was crazy, maybe he did have delusions and hallucinations of things that weren't there.

But he was still Sam, he was still his little brother. He might be pissed to all hell at him but Dean still knew that Sam couldn't, wouldn't, hurt him.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam asked softly, breaking the silence.

Dean took a deep breath. "You." he said truthfully. "Why'd you leave Sam? What the hell happened?"

"That's even harder to explain." Sam said, fingers tightening on the steering wheel again. "And I don't want to talk about it twice, can you wait until we see our parents?"

"Waited seven years Sam, I can wait a bit longer." Dean said, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He saw Sam sighed and he turned to his brother once more.

Sam half glanced at him before turning back to the road, shifting in his seat.

Sam was twenty four years old, Dean celebrated each and every one of those birthdays for the last seven years alone in his house with a six pack and a bottle of Jack. Dean was twenty eight years old and staring at his brother, Dean might as well have been in his mid twenties instead of his brother who looked more and more like he had aged over ten years instead.

Dean let his eyes roam over Sam's face, taking in the stress lines once more, feeling a pang in his chest when he saw a hint of gray hair starting throughout his hair. Not enough to start to color, but enough that he noticed it. Sam hadn't shaved in what looked like weeks, when he had left he didn't even have to shave yet, and he was thin despite being muscular.

"What the hell happened to you Sammy?" Dean whispered, the old nickname slipping out without him wanting it to.

Sam turned his head to shoot him a small, sad smile. "Life." he said simply. "I got dealt...a very crappy shoot Dean."

Dean shook his head, trying to recall any hints that Sam had been taking something that lead to this, if he found out who gave it to his brother for the first time, he'd be the one killing them. "You could've called."

"Couldn't actually." Sam said softly. "But again, I'd rather talk about it once."

Dean shook his head and turned back to stare out the window. "Fine, whatever."

Sam fell silent as well, not saying anything as they finally reached town and drove towards their childhood home. All too soon and not long enough they were in front of the old house and Sam turned the car off, staring up at the house but not moving just yet.

Dean swallowed when he saw that the lights were still on and it took a great deal of strength to slip off the seat belt and reach for the door. "Well, let's get this over with."

Sam glanced at him and then copied him, getting out of the car and staring up at the house with an unreadable expression on his face. "Hasn't changed that much." he said softly and if Dean concentrated, he could hear Sam's voice shaking slightly.

Dean tried not to think, forcing himself to go up the porch and before he could chicken out, he reached out and knocked on the door. Sam slowly followed him up to the porch, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched over as he stood to the side.

It took a moment but soon the door opened to show their dad John who blinked in surprise at seeing Dean there but then smiled. "Hey, what's the late night visit?" he asked, reaching out to hug his son in greeting.

Dean managed to return the hug, fighting the urge to bury his face in Johns shoulder like he had as a child, before he stepped back and looked to his side.

John did the same and Dean felt him freeze when Sam came forward more into the light of the porch. He looked up at him and gave him a shaky smile. "Hi dad." he whispered.

"Sammy?" John choked out, staring at him in awe and confusion. He moved away from Dean, moving slowly towards the younger man. "Sammy?"

"Yeah, it's me." Sam said, taking in a great shuddering breath. "I'm...I'm sorry. Its that I-" whatever he was about to say was cut off when John came forward and wrapped his arms around him.

Sam flinched back, obviously expecting something else, but slowly brought his arms up, wrapping them around their dad. His eyes closed and he folded more into John, holding onto him as his frame shook slightly.

"Sammy." John whispered, his voice cracking. Dean felt his chest tighten at the look on John's face, it was the same as when Sam had been officially declared missing. Johns hand came up to grip at the back of Sam's head and just held him, both of their shoulders shaking. He wanted to look away but at the same time, he couldn't tear his gaze away from it.

After what seemed like an eternity John moved back enough to look up, and fuck he also had to look up to see Sams face, his hand moving to cup Sams face as he looked over his son. Even from where he was standing Dean could see tears in his dads eyes and Sam had a hint of them as well.

"Sammy." John whispered, his voice heavy as his thumb moved over Sam's face. "Where have you been?"

"It's a long story dad." Sam said, needing to clear his throat to get the word out.

John swallowed hard, opening his mouth to ask more, when another voice made them look back towards the house.

"John? Who is it?" Mary called out to him as she came out onto the porch. She smiled at Dean when she saw him but also froze when she saw Sam on the porch with John, stepping back for a moment. "Sammy?"

"Hey mom." Sam said, looking at her a bit desperately. "I'm-"

Mary immediately came forward, all but shoving John to the side slightly as she reached for Sam, hugging him tightly, gripping at him as hard as she could. "Sammy." she whispered, her voice breaking and her knees buckling.

Sam held her up and let out a deep breath before he leaned in and whispered something to her. Dean couldn't hear what he said but Mary froze once more and pulled away to look up at him in shock.

"No." she whispered. "No, its cant be. Sammy."

Sam just stared at her sadly and nodded, sighing before he looked up at John and Dean.

"Okay." he said. "Lets talk."

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