So, we had gone off to Stanford. The first year was awkward, as first years often are. Being freshmen in a prestigious law school, though, definitely had it's perks. Especially when we were in California. Social lives and new friendships, but we still spent a majority our free time (whatever of it we got, anyway, with both of us in law classes and all) together. I even met a girl. Jessica Moore. I liked her, but I wasn't sure if she liked me. Page was working on finding out, and in trade, I was working on my friend, Bryon--asking him about Page and what he thought of her. Still, even with relationships coming into the picture, I knew things between us weren't going to change. Too much.

So, I owed it to her. I owed her the truth. Page and I had been through almost everything together over the past five years and two months, and I still couldn't tell her my secret, because I wasn't allowed. My father had sworn me to secrecy, and Dean had me convinced that no one would believe me if I told them, anyway. But, being on this road trip with her was the perfect time to say something. Because if she doubted me, what was the worst she could do? We were in my car, so she couldn't toss me out. But, what on Earth was the best way to tell your best friend that your family hunted spirits and demons, etcetera? There was no way, that was how. I sighed and glanced at the sign as we passed it…Providence, Rhode Island. We'd been on the road, on and off for seven days, stopping off and beaches here and there, and spent nights in the car to save money.

Page had no idea. She had no idea how much of a freak I was. She had no idea that my family were freaks. No idea what happened to my mom that night. No idea that when I was at home when I was little, my father had given me a gun to fend off the monster in my closet. She…had no idea. I looked over at her, as she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, along to the AFI CD I'd bought her when we were in New York City. She was normal. She had a happy family. She had a relatively normal life, and didn't need me Winchestering it up. I swallowed hard and leaned my head against the window, staring at a street sign, listing off our next destination. Boston, Massachusetts, fifty miles Northwest.

There was an hour left I had to feel like this, before I could just get over it and…distract myself. But then what would I do the day after next, when we left Boston and headed to wherever we were going to next? I turned and looked at her, watching as she turned her head to look at me, and showed me this look of--such confusion. I swallowed hard and sighed deeply. If I didn't do this now, I wasn't sure if I was ever going to be able to. I breathed in deeply and cleared my throat. "Uh…Page?" I asked, reaching over to the stereo and turning it off. "We're best friends, thick and thin, no matter what, right?" I asked her, chewing on my lower lip some more. I knew the question would worry her a bit, but I needed to know the answer, before I said anything.

She raised an eyebrow and glanced at me quickly. "No matter what, yeah…" she nodded softly, running a hand through her hair, the placing it back on the steering wheel. "What's going on, Sam?" she asked, running a hand through her hair nervously. I was almost sure she'd figured it out. Well, not what was wrong, exactly, but that something was wrong, and that made me a bit nervous. "You've been acting weird since NYC, and you're starting to freak me out…"

I sighed and tried my hardest to think of the way to say this. "Yeah…" I cleared my throat and rubbed my forehead uncomfortably. "Um…I just wanna make sure…what if I told you something that's, like, not normal? Not the standard of--"

"Sam, are you telling me you're gay?" she asked with a slight smirk.

I scoffed. "No!" I crossed my arms and glared at her. "I am not telling you I'm gay, Page, okay?" I looked back to the window. "Never mind. This was a bad idea anyway…" I swallowed hard and put my head in my hands. God knows, even if I told her, she'd never believe me, anyway. Maybe I should have pretended I was gay. That probably would have been easier.

She shook her head and pulled over, since we were on a dead-ish strip of road in the middle of the night. "Sam. I was kidding, okay?" she asked, sighing a bit. "I don't think you're gay. What is going on?"

I sighed and glanced over at her, before leaning my head against the window again. Why did she have to pull over for it? Now I had to tell her. "All right…" I looked down at my hands. "Have you…ever, uh, y'know, wondered where my family goes on those long business trips? I mean…you know…" I hoped she'd say no, because wasn't sure what to say from there. But, of course, she nodded her head. What was I supposed to say? 'My family hunts demons and spirits and all those things, which, by the way, are real?' Yeah, that would go over well.

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me like I had three heads and one of them was baring fangs at her. I couldn't say I blamed her, but I never expected that look from her, and it sort of stung. "I have wondered, yeah. I just never asked because it's none of my business…" she looked out the window for a second, then back at me. "I've also always wondered about the guns all through your house and the weird inscriptions and…" she stopped. "I've always had questions, but never asked them. Now, though, I have to admit, my curiosity is piqued."

I sighed. Now, there was really no turning back. She was going to flip out and ditch me, and I was going to be alone again. I cleared my throat and moved some of my hair from my face. "Well…" I glanced at her, watching as curiosity and concern crossed her face. "…my dad hunts demons. Dean, too. They hunt spirits and demons and all kinds of things like that…there are…so--"

"Wait, what?" Page stared at me still, looking like one of my three heads had just split off from the others and started singing old Motown or something. "Demons? Spirits? Like…your dad is a Ghostbuster?" she asked, letting go of a loud laugh. "Sam, if you wanted to joke…" she shook her head and turned back to start the car again.

I shook my head and scoffed. "I'm not joking!" I shouted, watching as the laugh faded from her face. I couldn't expect her to believe me right off, though, so that was fine. Hell, I didn't expect her to believe me at all. "He travels the country and kills these things and--"

She stopped me mid-sentence. "Stop, Sam. Stop. You know I'm really open-minded when it comes to things like this. But I mean, really. You're expecting me to believe that your dad and your brother are like, modern day Ghostbusters? Hell, I would have even taken CIA operatives…" she looked indignant. And I couldn't blame her. "That's rich, Winchester. Real rich. If you wanted to lie to me, at least do better than that."

I scoffed and leaned my head against the window. "Of course I didn't expect you to believe it…" I whispered, not looking at her. I didn't want to see the look on her face. Why would I expect her to believe me, anyway? Sometimes, even I didn't believe me. I though, maybe, Page would be different. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep, so we could wake up in the morning and forget about all of this…