DISCLAIMER: Own nothing

A little late, but I managed to get it done. Enjoy it guys

"I can't believe this." Sam stared at the crisp white paper with its perfectly folded lines. The black inc wasn't smudged anywhere and it was really his name that was typed in formal font across the top of the page; Samuel Winchester.

Eric clapped him on the back. "You better believe it, Sam. I've told you over and over how easily it would be for you to get in."

Sam's eyes moved frantically across the letter as his mind whirled. Your application was reviewed – incredible academic standings – we are pleased to offer you – let us be the first to congratulate you. He swallowed and looked up at Eric with a dazed expression on his face. "I'm dreaming."

A grin slowly spread across Eric's soft features. "Cause good things like this can only happen to you in your dreams? Come on, Sam, you've had this coming for a long time. Let's celebrate." He cocked his head in a motion for Sam to follow him as he made his way through the house and into the kitchen. He pulled out two beers from the fridge and walked outside onto the back patio.

Sam followed slowly, rereading the letter over once more just to make sure that he hadn't misread something. He leaned on the railing with the paper still in his hands and the opened bottle of beer sitting beside his elbow.

Eric lifted the bottle to his lips and watched Sam's profile. He swallowed. "So?"

Sam finally looked up from the sickeningly white paper and his grin could have given the sun a run for its money. "It's great – I mean this is great."

Eric ignored the fact that it sounded like Sam was trying to convince himself of that. "That's not what I was talking about. How's your father?"

Sam averted his gaze. "He's good. Same old same old, I guess."

Eric nodded – paused – took another swing of his beer and swallowed. "And your brother?"

"He, um -" He faltered and began to fiddle with the edges of the paper. He looked Eric in the eyes. "Dean's good…"

"Same old same old?" His eyes stared back at Sam's knowingly.

Sam let out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair. "Things have been rough lately…"

"Lately?"

Annoyance from Eric's obvious dislike towards his family laced Sam's voice. "Are you going to let me finish a sentence or just keep assuming that you've always understood my family?"

Eric finished off his beer and set the bottle on the wood railing with a thud. "So your father is still making you feel obligated to him and Dean – your ever so loving big brother – is still trying to stop you from achieving the goals that he never could."

Sam ground his teeth together. "It's complicated. And as for Dean, he's never tried to hold me back."

"Of course not, he's not the one that was always coming to get you early from school trying to get you to skip out on classes. He's not the one who always missed every single thing you did that involved school. He's not the one…"

"Just stop it, okay?" Sam bit his lip and turned away. He folded the letter up into a small square and shoved it in his back pocket. "You can't understand, we're just…"

"Sam."

The deep growl caused Sam to whip around. Dean was standing twenty yards away near the back gate with his arms crossed and a very pissed look on his face. Sam sent a hesitant look towards Eric, praying that he wouldn't pick up on the jealous signals that Dean was radiating.

"Dean, it's good to see you again." Eric pasted a fake smile on his face and Sam wanted to cringe at how infuriating he was when it came to Sam's family.

Dean took three steps forward. "Wish I could say the same, Landon, but -" He motioned to the beer bottles on the railing. "The fact that you are illegally serving a minor – who happens to be my little brother – just kills the mood."

"Always one for the witty comments." His smile was malicious. "Since when do you play the caring older brother card anyways?"

Sam watched Dean's lips thin. "That's enough, Eric." He made a pained expression and walked towards Eric. He stopped beside him. "Thank you, I'll call you later." Before he had a chance to respond Sam quickly walked down the stairs and across the grass to grab Dean's arm and yank him out of the yard.

As soon as they were in the alley Dean shoved Sam away from him. He caught himself and took a few breaths, reminding himself how Dean felt about Eric. Dean could throw the whole jealous thing way out of proportion. Sam counted it to be three minutes and twenty-nine seconds of walking in silence before Dean caved.

"What were you even doing there?"

Sam stopped and didn't answer until Dean also stopped and looked back at him. "Why are you so threatened by him?"

Dean sneered. "I'm not threatened by him. I'm just curious as to why you even like the prick. He's a complete asshole and normally your not one to put up with people like that."

Sam opened his arms. "Maybe it's because he's not like that around me."

That earned a snort. "Have you ever wondered why he's so different with you?"

Sam's shoulders sagged. "No, but I bet you have a theory."

"He wants in your pants, Sam!" Dean flung an arm out uselessly and began to pace the narrow alley. "He practically leers at you, and he sends out death threats with his eyes when anyone else glances at you."

"It's not like that, Dean."

He strode over to Sam. "Then tell me what it's like."

Sam shrugged. "He's just-"

"What?" He pushed Sam's shoulder with the heel on his palm. "Why are you so enthralled with this guy?"

"I can just talk with him."

Sam knew the words were bad from the look on Dean's face. It was a fleeting expression and was replaced with a mask, but not before Sam understood what it meant. The words had hurt him. His eyes narrowed before he turned on his heels and walked away.

"Dean." Sam began to walk again, quickening his pace to catch up with his brother. "It came out wrong, Dean." Sam grabbed his arm to stop him. "Dean, please."

Dean spun. "For months, Sam, I've been trying to get you to talk to me. Me! We're in Alliance for a little over twenty-four hours and you're already at his place spilling everything that you – for some reason – can't tell me." He ripped his arm out of Sam's grasp. "Not that it matters, dad's done the job here…we're leaving first thing in the morning."

With that last parting shot – which Sam guessed was supposed to hit him hard – Dean turned and started walking again. Sam stood in the alley, watching Dean walk away and all too aware of the letter that was practically burning a hole in his ass.

Sam enjoyed the sound of the front door slamming as he walked out of the house. It had been a month since they had left Alliance, and that much closer to Stanford starting. But things weren't looking up, in fact they seemed to be worse than ever.

A new day and a new hunt always seemed to bring around a new fight. He stomped across the yard and was not too thrilled to hear to door bang back open behind him. Not really wanting to talk to his brother at the moment, Sam quickened his pace.

Usually Dean would step in, take some charge as to how violent the fight was going to get – not this time. No, apparently Dean wasn't in the mood to play referee because things had spiraled out of control fast. In the end, Sam had taken a punch at their dad. The second it happened he regretted it, even now he couldn't have felt more ashamed.

It wasn't often that Sam's temper got the better of him, but it seemed more and more that he was on a shorter fuse. He'd even started fights with Dean over the most childish things. Don't drink from the milk carton, pick up his damn socks, turn down the music - it was never ending.

"Damn it, Sam." Dean grabbed his wrist and whirled him around.

Sam took advantage of the movement and used it to help him shove Dean away from him. "Where the hell were you ten minutes ago, Dean?"

"Don't try and pin this on me because you've been in a pissy mood for the past month. Why is it my job to keep you and dad from tearing each other's throats out?" He gave Sam a once over. "You seem to be excelling lately at doing things by yourself."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? Dean, we literally spend twenty-four hours a day together." He glanced quickly around and whispered. "I love you."

Dean laughed softly. "You got a funny way of showing love, little brother. See I don't think love means that you abandon someone."

Sam's anger dissipated from the hurt look on his brother's face. "What?"

Dean sniffed and looked away. "I know about Stanford."

And just like that, all the anger came rushing back. "You're rifling through my stuff now? Cause that's what people do when they love someone, Dean." Sarcasm leaked off his tongue. "You, the one that can only say you love me after you're done nailing me…"

Dean's fist connected with Sam's jaw in a sickeningly dull smack. Sam stared at the ground until he was certain that he wasn't going to do something stupid – he'd already done more than enough damage for one day. He looked into Dean's eyes, but didn't see the regret that he had felt when he had hit their father. And, yeah, it kinda hurt.

Sam smiled and used a knuckle to wipe the blood from his lip. "Guess that's just the patent Winchester way to show affection – though I gotta say, Dean, when I want you to nail me that's not usually what I'm thinking."

"I wasn't looking through your stuff, you spoiled little brat. If you wanna keep secrets in this family you damn well don't go into the bathroom at four in the morning with your phone."

Sam looked away and for the second time in twenty minutes felt like he was five years old again, ashamed for acting so recklessly. "I can't handle the way things are going right now."

"What are you talking about, Sam?"

"Everything – with dad, with you – I just can't…"

Dean tossed a hand through the air. "Don't say that this is about dad or me! This is about you, Sam, just like it's always been."

Sam's jaw ticked and his eyes narrowed. "Like it's always been? And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just like it sounds. You've always played the selfish card." Dean's face hardened. "You never wanted to learn what dad was teaching us, but God forbid anyone interrupt you while you learn about the chaos theory!"

Sam smirked. "So it's selfish of me to want a real education?"

"It's selfish of you to leave while dad needs you – while I need you" Dean's façade broke a little.

"You've never needed me."

"You told me that you'd always be here, Sam, whenever I needed you." Dean's composure returned. "I need you now."

Sam's laugh was hollow and cold. "Now who's being selfish, Dean? You need me when I wanna to leave."

Dean licked his lips. "You lied to me."

Sam made a skeptical face. "And you've never lied to me?" Sam took a threatening step forward. "You told me that all you wanted was for me to be happy."

Dean took an equally threatening step. "And leaving this family, that's what makes you happy?"

Sam's face contorted in pain. "You know what would make me happy? To stop with all the fighting. To be normal, to not be…"

Dean smirked sadistically. "What we are? And this being normal, does it include not loving your brother? Not whispering how much you need me when you think I'm asleep?" Sam's back straightened and his eyes widened. "Don't look so surprised, it's not the first time that I've faked sleep to find out what goes on in that mind of yours." He narrowed his eyes at Sam. "And don't give me that look cause I know you've done it before too."

Sam backed down, taking a heavy step away. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep trying to make myself believe that things will get better. Every morning when I wake up I feel a growing resentment to him, and I don't want to have that feeling. I don't wanna be that person who's pissed at the world for the way that my life turned out. I think it's best if I just leave for awhile."

"And it's so easy for you to just drop us, to just drop me?"

Sam clenched his jaw and he looked away. "I never said it was easy."

He didn't look up again until he felt – rather than saw - Dean move.

Dean pulled out one of his knives from his back pocket and held it out to Sam. "Try this next time okay?" Sam looked at him quizzically. "You wanna stab me in the back, do it like a real man – cause it'll hurt a hell of a lot less."

He let the knife fall onto the cement between them and turned around to walk back to the house.

(Smiles) Any comments?