Dean drove the Impala onto the shoulder and slowed to meet Sam's running pace.

"Get in the car, Sam."

"Need some space," he answered.

"Have all the space you need after we talk about this," Dean said.

"Share your feelings with someone else. Maybe call a phone sex line."

"Seriously, Sam! I left two scared kids alone so I could talk to you! Can we please not draw this out??"

Sam halted and looked at Dean's worried face. He rolled his eyes and opened the door and sat in the passenger seat.

"They're used to being alone," Sam pointed out, "they're probably glad to have us not watching us. Them. You know what I mean."

"Yeah, well knowing me, I've already looked through my stuff, stolen half my guns, and found my porn. I mean, he's already-"

"I get it, Dean."

A long silence then as Dean took a turn that would bring them closer to the motel.

Finally, Dean said, "So what was that back there? You don't like your mini-me?"

"He was acting like a brat, Dean."

"He wasn't the only one," Dean muttered.

"What was that?" Sam asked testily.

"Sorry," Dean said, "But it's ... it's hard, you know? I spend a lot of my childhood making sure nobody hurt that kid."

"I know. And if I could change it, if I could stop you from giving up your childhood to take care of me-"

"That's not what I mean. I just mean... it's hard. Every time I try to be nice to little Sam, you get this look on your face."

"If you say I have a bitchface one more time-"

"Fine, let's call it a beepface. But I spent a lot of time protecting him. You have no idea how hard it was to hear someone talk to him like that. Even Dad never talked to you like that until you went all rebellious teen, and by then you were already his height so it didn't seem so.... I just mean, Sam, I don't want to hear you talk to him like that. If it were anyone but you...."

"I know. I lost my temper."

"It's not just that you lost your temper. Seriously, Sam, it's obvious you don't like the younger version of yourself. And that's ... messed up."

Sam struggled to answer. "It's not that I... I like him, I know he's just a kid, but... I guess I never saw myself as being... like that."

"Oh, you were definitely like that," Dean said.

"Yes, thanks for stating the obvious," Sam said.

"No prob."

"Look, it's just hard to see all your faults laid out in front of you. It's hard to... see someone who thinks he can get away with anything, that someone else will fix it no matter what. He doesn't clean up his own messes, he doesn't think that maybe he better stop annoying people when they ask him to, he doesn't think that it's his job to do anything. He's just needy and ..."

"A kid?"

"Little Dean's a kid, too, and he doesn't act like that."

Dean paused again and gripped the steering wheel tightly. "He's more of a kid than he lets on," he said softly.

Sam was silent for a minute and then spoke up, "He doesn't like me."

Dean looked over at him, confused. "Young Sam?"

"Young Dean."

"Well, you were mean to his brother, of course he doesn't like you. I'll talk to him, it'll blow over."

"Young Dean hasn't liked me since he showed up," Sam said, grimacing.

"He thinks we're Dad's hunter buddies. He probably wants to keep his distance. I mean except for Bobby, most of Dad's hunter friends were not exactly Mary Poppins."

"Did you just compare Bobby to Mary Poppins?" Sam smiled despite himself.

"Don't tell him. Or he'll beat us to death with his pretty parasol."

They laughed then, together, for the first time in days. And Sam felt that closeness and found the nerve to say, "Young Dean doesn't like me. He likes you but not me.... When I was a kid, I looked at him like he was the coolest guy in the world. And don't be a prick about it, we both know it's true. So it's hard to see so clearly that he doesn't like... the person I've become."

"That's not how it is, Sam. Young Dean is just a kid. He has no idea what he does or doesn't like."

"I don't even know why I care."

Dean sighed. "Okay, never mention this ever. But... the other night, when I tried to put little Sammy to bed by telling him a story... he cried because it was too scary. And I felt like shit. And then young me came over and called me a dick and made Sammy feel better. And I felt like a bad brother and a mean dude and... kind of maybe a little ...envious. Just a little."

Sam looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's just ... what we have, it's so complicated, but what they have ... it's simple. "

Sam said softly, testing the waters, "Yeah, I guess if I had just kept letting you take care of my every need and decision, we'd still be in great shape."

Dean looked at Sam with a furrowed brow and then observed, "You think I like little Sammy better than you."

"I wouldn't blame you."

Dean gave a funny smile and said, "Nah. You were right. Little Sam's annoying, you're way more fun. Plus, I can take you to a strip club without getting arreseted."

"Dean, I'm being-"

"Serious. Yeah, I know. Look, Sammy, I don't want you to be like a kid. I don't miss having to let you have your way all the time, or having to do stuff for you."

Sam took a deep breath. "You miss being able to be the big brother. What Dean says, goes. I know you miss that."

"Sometimes," Dean said quietly, "Not usually."

"And you miss... thinking of me as the innocent one. You miss protecting me from the evils of the world... rather than protecting the world from the evils that I'm responsible for."

Dean looked over at him and thought for a long time. Finally, he said, "I miss the time when I thought that a werewolf was the scariest thing out there. But let's face it. Our childhood's sucked. And the fact that I can't shake my old patterns with little-you? It has not a thing to do with our other crap. I like kids. I like little Sam. And occasionally little me. But I don't wish we were like that again, having to relearn all those really hard lessons. So this crazyass jealousy thing?"

"I'll get over it."

"So will I," Dean said, and Sam puzzled over what that might mean.

But Dean said then, "Sam? I know that with the kids here... I've been falling into old patterns. With you. Not young you, I mean you-you. I know I've been telling you what to do, not listening to you, not letting you do stuff.... I know I've been doing all the crap I promised I would try to stop doing."

"It's okay, Dean. I can see how the kids would bring those habits back."

"It's not okay. I'm going to try harder, though."

Sam paused before saying, simply, "Thanks."

Dean nodded as they pulled into the motel parking lot. "Let me go in first, then you'll come in and apologize, and then we'll offer to take them for donuts and cider," Dean said.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

Dean smiled in recognition and said, "Fine, Sasquatch Stan, how do you want to play this?"

"We go in together. I tell them that it won't happen again," Sam said.

"Fine. But we're still doing donuts. Mmm, donuts."

"Then let's go in and get it over with, Homer," Sam said.

Dean nodded and they got out of the car in unison. And Dean said, "Fine. But seriously, if that kid touched my porn, I am so gonna give him a plain, no-icing."