A/N: I was struck by more inspiration so I wrote another chapter. This is going to be updated sporadically. When I have the chapters I'll post them. At the moment this story is still canon but I'm considering making it AU. Opinions? Please Read and Review

A/N: Just realised there was a MAJOR formatting issue. It was literally unreadable. So I reposted this chapter.

Disclaimer: Not mine

Due to my impatient nature I decided that the for now lasted until the end of Sam's lecture so waiting for Sam to get back was excruciating. Now I had an opening to ask questions thousands of them bubbled up in my mind. Why did he have so many scars? Why didn't he talk to his family? Why did he take a knife everywhere? Why could we never run out of salt? I glanced at the clock again. He was late.

Finally, after what seemed to be forever, he walked through the door. Immediately I bounded towards him, a large smile lit up his face. One of the things I loved about Sam was that he was a great hugger and this time was no exception. Then he gave me a quick kiss and let me go so I could retreat into the kitchen to make coffee. I couldn't stop smiling. "Sam." I called softly. "Please talk to me." I could literally see the exasperated face Sam was making in my mind.

"Jess!" His tone of voice begged me to drop it. Nuh huh. Not this time.

"I love you. I thought you trusted me." It was a low blow but, well, I was curious. Sam reluctantly padded back towards me. "Please..." I pleaded shamelessly. I wasn't above playing dirty. And Sam knew. He pushed his bangs off his forehead and manoeuvred back into the living room with me trailing behind.

"Fine." He muttered and sank down into the sagging couch. I perched on the arm closest to him. "My brother is called Dean and is four years older than me. After my mum died I haven't stayed in a place longer than two months before now. Me and dad don't get on. Happy?" He glared at me ferociously making it clear that no wasn't an acceptable answer. With a deep breath I asked a question regardless.

"Why don't you talk to them?"

Sam scowled. I could already tell it was the wrong question to ask. Too late now. "The last words my dad said to me were if you go out that door then don't you ever come back." Ouch.

OK. So he fell out with his dad. That didn't explain the lack of communication with his brother. So maybe they didn't get on despite the appearance of friendship in the photo I found. I decided that maybe making an assumption would get him to talk more than asking a question. Manipulative, I know but I'm a psychology major. This kinda stuff is want I study. "And I'm guessing you and Dean weren't that close so..."

He sat bolt upright with a look of combined shock and horror on his face. "I never said that!" Score one for Jess.

OK. I was officially confused. Did they get on or not? Exasperation crept into my voice. "So why don't you speak to him?!" Damn assumption making. I needed straight answers. Not that answers can't be gay… I was getting off topic. Back to present.

He sighed and pushed his bangs out his eyes. "Well… It's complicated." No shit Sherlock! Think I got that part.

"But how?!" My annoyance was now fully on show. Sam was not helping me understand this.

"He backs dad 100% on everything. I don't." The curt notes to his voice made it crystal clear this particular ally of question was over. For now. I knew how to bide my time. OK, I don't. I'll ask him when I run out of patience.

I decided to retreat and regroup for at this point in time. There would always be other opportunities. Even if I had to make those opportunities. "Fine. Thank you." I gave him a peck on the cheek and moved into the kitchen to finish the coffee that I had neglected from earlier. "Do you want any coffee?" I called.

"Yeah." He replied in a relieved voice.

Maybe drinking coffee 24/7 isn't the healthiest but, hey, I need the caffeine. Student remember? I groaned internally as I remember the 2000 word essay I had due in for Lit tomorrow. Fantastic. I just LOVE functioning on minimal sleep.

Later that night, when Sam had retired to our bedroom, I was still writing that stupid essay. I was rapidly giving up on my dream of an A. Right now I'd settle for a C as long as long as I could go to bed. Ok, maybe that was a lie but whatever. I rubbed my eyes in frustration as I missed yet another word out of a sentence then reached for the coffee pot. It was empty. I face planted into a cushion in exasperation for several minutes while working up the motivation to get up and brew another pot. As I stumbled unsteadily across the room guided only by the screen of my laptop, I heard a phone vibrating on the coffee table. I was so tired my brain didn't register it wasn't my cell. Or my ring tone. I was really tired, OK?

"Sammy?" The voice on the other side was not one I recognised. I frowned. It was quite deep and had a kind of grit to it which almost disguised the touch of hope it contained smothered in exhaustion. Sammy? I wondered as I realised my mistake. The caller ID simply read D. As I was considering my options (me and Sam never picked up each other's phones) the voice spoke again. "Sammy, you there?" This time it held hints of concern.

My slow brain finally realised I should say something. "Erm, yeah, sorry. This is Sam's girlfriend. Can I take a message?" I winced as that came out. Cheesy much. I sounded like one of those girlfriends from those crappy soaps which I hated. So much for inaccurate female sterotypes.

There was an awkward silence for a few minutes. "Jessica Moore?"

I suddenly felt slightly awake, uncomfortable and slightly suspicious. "How do you know my name? Who is this?"

The person on the other end sighed "It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have called anyway."

That did nothing to calm me. "I'm getting Sam." I hoped the threat hid the fact my voice was shaking. Doubtful though. I'm not that lucky.

"No no. Don't. He won't want to speak with me anyway." The voice now sounded vaguely panicked. "My name's Dean." He sounded like he was trying to calm me down.

That piqued my interest. "Dean as in Dean Winchester?" Sam's brother?

Dean sighed again "Yeah. I shouldn't have called. He must never know I spoke to you. Can you delete the call from the device memory?"

Once again I was confused. I was waaaaaaaay too tired for this. "Why?"

Dean sounded slightly bitter as he said "Can you just do it? He wouldn't want me to interfere in his normal life."

I was still confused but whatever, I wanted to go to bed. Damn the essay. A small section of my brain that was vaguely awake wondered why there was the emphasis on normal. "Um ok?"

"Thank you" he hung up.

I stood there like an idiot for a while clutching the cell in my hand before I finally remembered what I was meant to be doing. I deleted the call from the cell's memory. I went to put Sam's phone back but hesitated. On a whim I found my cell (it was on the kitchen counter) and copied the number under D into my contacts. I then replaced Sam's cell on the coffee table and went to bed.

TBC…