Here we are, back again! Thanks so much for your reviews on the last installment. And for those of you who do think I'm trying your patience…sorry, only 4 chapters to go, keep tuned!

Oh, before I forget, thanks SO much to all of you who reviewed So Far Away. I wanted to send you a big public HUG from here.

And of course, my devotion to Emrys. I make her work too hard.

On with the story!

-6-

"You don't have to come."

Pointedly ignoring my brother, I sighed and finished getting ready for Jessica's funeral. There were so many things inherently wrong with his suggestion that I didn't even know how to start answering him back. Because, first, of course I had to go, and second, of course I wasn't going because I had to. And third, was he going to tell me already whether he wanted me there or not?

It had been three days since the fire. Three days we had spent doing research, calling contacts, watching the apartment and alternating fighting with a simple lack of communication between the two of us.

"You're going to hate it."

"Nobody likes funerals, Sam."

"You didn't even know her."

Arms raised questioningly, I rolled my eyes and turned to face him. He bit his lower lip and, looking uncomfortable, finished buttoning his shirt.

"I'm just saying that there're gonna be a lot of people there…"

"What? You worried I'll make a fool out of you? I promise I'll behave normal for a while!" I snapped.

At that, he looked hurt, and I felt bad for allowing his reluctance to annoy me. But the truth was neither of us had been getting enough sleep in the last three days, and we were cranky because of it. I knew that my brother had enough on his plate at the moment, and it was unfair to add my own insecurities to his burden. But he was acting like I was something embarrassing he had to hide from his perfectly normal social circle, and I had had enough of it.

"Look," I said, taking a deep breath. "If you don't want me to go, tell me and let's get this over with."

Sam continued chewing his lower lip as he slipped his new jacket on.

"Otherwise," I tried, forcing a smile. "I'll have to think you're only trying to drive my car."

He scoffed and looked daggers at me and my poor, inappropriate attempt at humor.

"Sam…"

"Do whatever you want, Dean," he said, cutting me off with a huff and storming past me towards the door.

I ran both hands through my hair and exhaled heavily. Then I did what my brother had told me to do… that is, what I wanted to, and went with him.

oooooooooooooOooooooooooooo

The service was long and emotional. I guess that's how funerals are, but except for a couple of images here and there —which were viciously coming back to me— I barely remembered my mother's funeral. I had also purposely stayed away from cemeteries since my mom's funeral, at least outside of hunts.

Jessica's parents sat in front, eyes fixed onto the closed coffin that held their daughter's remains. Dr. Moore was stoically holding his wife's hand and keeping a collected expression while listening to the pastor's words about Jess. But his eyes were dulled. I knew that kind of look; he didn't understand what had happened. He was still struggling with the whys. Mrs. Moore cried silently the whole time, expression blank, head slightly tilted. I couldn't help wondering if she was on some kind of sedative.

They insisted that Sam sit next to them, because he was family to them. He looked at me, unsure of what to do. It was the first time he looked me in the eye since we had left the hotel. I gave an affirmative shrug and took a seat right behind him as he sat by Jess' mother. Mrs. Moore clasped my brother's knee fiercely with her hand, and my Sammy covered the woman's shaky fingers with his. He was holding his own, but from my position I saw how tense his shoulders were. I wanted to reach out and squeeze the nape of his neck; I wanted to lean forward and sit with my arms crossed on the back of his chair so that all I had to do for him to hear me over the mournful elegy was whisper into his hear.

Sam wouldn't want me to do any of that, though. He was keeping his front up and wouldn't forgive me if my concern jeopardized it. However, when the coffin was lowered into the grave and everybody stood up respectfully, he lost the grip of Mrs. Moore's hand. The woman fell back out of his reach and slipped from her chair. Among the commotion that followed, while dozens of friends and family rushed to help, I could only see Sam's face, drained of color, staring at the faded woman as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Sam-"

"Sam, do you have a ride back to the Moore's?" a man in his early thirties asked, showing up out of the blue. He was some cousin of Jess'. "Or do you need a lift?"

Momentarily dazed, the solicitous relative's approach took Sam by surprise. He reacted to the intruder on instinct alone and shrank back from the guy. Immediately, I acted on instinct too and protectively stepped forward.

"I'll drive him, man, no problem," I informed the stranger.

"Yeah…" Sam said. He had recovered and was wetting his lips. "It's okay, Jason, thanks…This- this is my brother Dean."

"Oh, nice to meet you," Jason said, and held out his hand with a friendly smile.

Either we were so skilled that even our instinctive reactions were too subtle to notice, or normal people were just plain dumb.

"Nice to meet you, too."

"See you there then. You know the way, right?"

I glanced at Sam, who nodded weakly.

"Yes, we'll be fine. Thank you," I replied with forced politeness.

Hint taken or not, Jason agreed to leave after tossing a last compassionate look at my brother. I wished that those people could understand how much Sam hated being looked at like that, and would stop doing it already.

As soon as we were alone, I searched my brother's gaze.

"How are you holding up?" I asked.

"I'm alright," he said. It was a blatant lie.

"We don't have to do this, Sammy. We can go back to the motel now. They'll understand."

"I can't," he said, shaking his head no. "I owe it to them."

"What do you mean you owe them?"

"Let's just go," Sam said, eluding my question. "Unless you prefer to go back…I can go with Jason."

"I'm fine," I assured him with a sigh. "Let's go."

By the time we got to the Moore's, Sam was composed enough to face another collective round of grieving, which was how I was starting to see the whole funeral thing. Sam had been right; I felt as out of place as a fish out of water, and the sensation was just as suffocating. I gave my brother some space to interact with Jessica's friends and family through the afternoon, hoping that the ritual would offer him some relief. Give him a sense of belonging, of closure, whatever the hell that meant.

He wouldn't know it, but I had always found my own relief in watching him. It was obvious that my mother's funeral had given my family anything but closure. And I had always known I belonged only with Sam. So, of course, I kept an eye on him from afar, never letting him out of my sight, attentive to his every move just like I had grown used to doing since I was four.

"He looks different, you know? Reminds me of his first years at Stanford."

I jumped when I felt a cup of punch pressed against my hand and turned to find Simon next to me, wearing a sad smile. I unconsciously relaxed; at least he was a familiar face, sort of. That, and the fact he had always been nice to me. It was pathetic, and selfish, but I so needed someone being nice to me.

"What do you mean?" I asked, accepting the drink and tilting it slightly toward him as a gesture of gratitude.

"We were roommates during our freshman year," he explained. "Hit it off right away. He was a nice guy, very friendly, but somehow it was as if he wasn't ever completely there. I don't know how to explain it. He had this way around people…he blended in but he kept everybody at a distance. He never really let anyone in."

I nodded in understanding. I could only imagine how hard had it been for Sam to reconcile his wish to fit in with his engraved distrust of others. He must have felt scared, lonely. Even if it had been his decision to leave, the way that his leaving had developed had been out of his control since the moment our father had shut the door on him. It could have been different. He shouldn't have had to face college alone; with just a little less anger, we could have been there to support him.

"He opened up a bit with time," Simon continued. "Especially after meeting Jess." He chuckled sadly, and I tore my eyes from Sam to give him a sympathetic smile. He acknowledged it with a wrinkle of his nose and sighed deeply.

"How'd they meet?" I asked, somewhat curious. I had barely known anything about my brother's life during those years.

Simon's smile widened as he became reminiscent.

"We were in this bar. It was damn hard to get your brother's nose out of his books, let me tell you," he said. I scoffed as Simon continued. "Anyway, he suddenly caught sight of this girl next to the pool table, and his expression changed. Zach and I started making fun of him, because, dude, he was seriously transfixed. Shiny eyes, faraway look and all—" Simon shook his head, affection clear in his voice.

I looked back at Sam. My chest had constricted.

"So we went to play pool with her and her friends," he said, and laughed. "Man, she kicked our ass in a heartbeat. Only Sam was able to stand up to her."

"He's good," I said, forcing my voice to cooperate.

"Yeah, well, he preserved our honor. When it became obvious we weren't needed there, though, we left them to their…game."

"Knowing Sam, playing pool was all they did."

"You bet. He was beating around the bush for weeks, until she got tired of waiting and asked him out."

I smiled.

"Sounds like she was a cool girl."

"She was very cool," Simon said, a little bit sadly. He sighed and downed his drink. "I just hate seeing him like this."

"Yeah, me too," I sighed.

I wasn't sure why I was baring my soul to a practical stranger, so when he frowned at me I knew I had had it coming.

"Then what are you doing here talking to me?"

"Come again?" I tensed, sick of being questioned about my motives over and over again.

"Dean, he's not gonna let any of us to get to him, no matter how hard we try. But why aren't you with him?"

I shifted uncomfortably.

"Well," I began, "For starters, I'm not even sure that he wants me here at all," I said.

He gave me an odd look.

"You kidding?"

His tone was starting to rile me. Simon noticed and reduced his incredulity.

"You really haven't noticed it then?" he asked with a hint of disbelief.

"Noticed what?"

"The way he checks on where you are every minute or two?"

I arched an eyebrow. Maybe I had noticed Sam looking in my direction every now and then. But I hadn't given it any importance. We were trained to keep the other within sight and communicate via eye-contact during hunts. I was sure it was nothing but a reflex, so Simon's point was…?

"His face whenever he can't find you within the first couple of seconds?" Simon shook his head to stress his words. "Look, man, I know you two have issues," he said, but when I glared at him he quickly amended what he was about to say next. "And those are definitely none of my business. But I do know something. And it's that Sam barely talks bout his family. Ever. But whenever he does, after a couple of beers or when he let his guard down and slips a comment here or there…it's always about you. And I may not know you, but it sounds to me like you're the kind of person he would want to have with him right now."

It wasn't very often that someone left me speechless, or that I made them aware of their success. But it wasn't a contest. Simon had made it clear he was on Sam's side and that put him on my side too.

"The problem is I don't know how to help him, Simon," I confessed, forcing a smile to take the edge off of the damn despair that tainted my voice.

He just patted my arm in a clear gesture of, "Then go find out." That's how I was prompted to leave the safety of my corner and walk up to my brother.

oooooooooooooOooooooooooooo

Sam had momentarily sought refuge on a couch at the end of the room, away from the family's friends who had been cuddling him for the last half an hour. Despite the fact he'd spent his life wanting to be normal, it turned out that in grieving he was fully Winchester, and I could tell none of this was helping him. Actually, all of the attention was having the opposite effect, and he was becoming overwhelmed.

I decided that I didn't care what he thought he owed to the Moore's or what he felt was the right thing to do anymore. We were going. And from then on we would be dealing —or not dealing— with loss in our way.

He saw me coming when I was about seven feet away from him, and he flashed me a weak smile. It was past 4 PM, and we had been there for hours. He had to be worn-out.

"Hey," I said and crouched in front of him.

"Hey," he replied wearily. "You were right."

"About what?"

"You behaved normal and all—"

He tried to smile again, but it seemed more like a grimace. I decided to let him off the hook.

"Well, a man has his limits," I said, and cocked my head. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, I think so," Sam said, swallowing heavily.

"Wanna finish your drink first?" I asked and nodded to the cup he was holding.

"My…" he blinked at the drink and frowned before leaving it on a corner table. "No. I- I don't even know how I ended up with it," he said, digging the heel of his hands into his eyes and blowing out a breath. "God…Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Just take me out of here."

I always found it hard to breathe when he sounded like that. Puppy-eyes I could deal with; they usually subjugated my will but didn't make my heart want to explode. After all I knew that sometimes he purposefully pulled them just to make me do what he wanted. But Sam would never sound broken on purpose. As a matter of fact, he would fight with all his might to hide his pain. So if he had failed to conceal distress, it had been only because that distress was too overpowering.

I held out my hand to help him up, and he took it without a second thought.

"You got it."

I walked my brother outside. I think I saw Simon smiling goodbye to us out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't turn around to confirm it.

oooooooooooooOooooooooooooo

I know I know, you'll think, not so much has happened here…but the following scene was kind of intense (you think I'd give the boys a break?) and I preferred to cut it here and save it for chapter 7, which will be up ASAP!!

Any comments?

xx