Dean jerked and woke up. Sam sat by the window, working on his laptop.
"Where's Jim?" Dean asked.
"Outside playing," Sam answered and peeked out the window.
Outside Jim was playing soccer with a baseball.
The room lay dark, except for the sunlight that came in through the half-closed blinds. Dean's head was throbbing and he was pretty sure something had crawled up and crapped in his mouth. He pushed himself up from the floor. It was an effort.
"Dean…" Sam began, closing his computer.
"Oh God, we're gonna have another 'talk', aren't we?"
Dean went to the fridge and took out a beer. He popped it, and took a sip before doing a little morning stretch. He went and stood opposite Sam by the table. Sam looked at the beer, and restrained a sigh. Dean obviously didn't need more alcohol, but he didn't want to start their conversation like that.
"All right honey. I'm sorry I came home late last night," Dean snarled before sitting down at the table. "It was just...kind of intense, you know?" he mumbled and had another sip.
"So you left?" Sam asked, but stopped himself from attacking any further. "Look man, I get it. I do," he tried in a soft voice. "It's just... Jim was scared out of his mind, Dean. And I had to be the one to tell him everything was gonna be all right, and tuck him in, and read bedtime stories, and…"
He got a sharp look from his brother.
"Bedtime stories, huh? Awww I'm sorry. I promise that will never happen again!"
"Dean…"
"What? 'Thank you'?"
Sam made a peace offering gesture. He wasn't going to fight this time.
"I miss Alice too," he said, but got a warning look from his brother.
"Don't go there Sam..!" Dean took another sip of beer and looked out the window.
"I know – it's too much! And…it's history repeating itself. The Winchester curse." Sam tilted his head and looked at his brother. "But the thing is… Your son needs you, Dean. Now. Not after some time, when you're feeling up to it. Now."
Dean flew out of his chair and started pacing a little back and forth.
"Well, what if he starts asking me questions I can't answer. Huh, Sam?" Dean asked. "What if he wants…details. Like 'How did mom die? Was she shot? Or stabbed?'" Dean paused to mimic a child's innocent eyes: "Who stabbed her, daddy?"
Sam got up from his chair and walked over to Dean.
"You stabbed a demon. Who was gonna take Jim."
Dean frowned at Sam, his voice almost unrecognizable with hate:
"I stuck the knife in her body and I yanked it around until I felt her flesh tare!"
Sam put a hand on Dean's shoulder and looked him in the eyes.
"Man… Don't take it away from her... She knew exactly what was gonna happen when she ripped the amulet off."
The right hook to Sam's chin came out of nowhere. He staggered back a couple of steps and found a wall to lean up against. Dean came after him with another couple of blows, knocking his brother to the ground. Sam stayed on the floor, looking up at Dean in surprise. Dean stood over him still making a fist. He was furious.
"I told you to take the knife, Sam! I begged you to kill me!" Dean yelled.
"I'm sorry, Dean! I couldn't do it..! Look, I know it's my fault, and I made you... I know that! And I'm so sorry!" Sam cried.
"She was..." Dean closed his eyes, trying to form the words to describe it all. "She was supposed to be here. I was gonna keep her safe! And she's all that kid's ever known. Now he's stuck here with me! And I…I can't..!"
Sam nodded and looked away.
"I couldn't kill you, Dean. But I could have ripped off my own amulet. That's what I should have done, I just… I didn't think!"
Dean looked annoyed.
"No, you're not his dad. It was supposed to be me. I asked you to kill me, Sam!"
"If I had just..." The words stuck in Sam's throat. "Jim would still have both his parents, and you and Alice, you would..."
Dean kneeled down in front of his brother. He put his hands around Sam's face to look him in the eyes.
"Sammy, no!"
Dean leaned his forehead against Sam's, while the younger brother sobbed:
"I'm sorry, Dean… I'm so sorry..!"
"I don't know what to do here, Sam." Dean whispered. "I don't know what to do..!"
Sam calmed down a little and looked up at him.
"Yeah, you do. You always have."
Dean looked at his brother. Sam tried a little smile and Dean followed the gesture.
"How's your chin?"
"Good thing you hit like a girl." Sam dried off his tears.
"Yeah? You want another one?"
"No!"
They sat on the floor in silence. Dean squirmed.
"Are you gonna need a hug?"
Sam sighed and pulled himself up from the floor.
"Jerk..."
"Bitch!" came the reply readily as Dean got up too.
Outside the window Jim was still playing soccer with the baseball. The brothers watched him for a beat.
"You're right, he is going to have questions," Sam acknowledged.
"What the hell am I gonna tell him, Sammy?" Dean shook his head.
"You tell him his mom loved him very much and tried to protect him. And that you got the thing that killed her. Don't forget that part."
"You think..." Dean paused. "You think by the time he's old enough to ask for specifics... You think he'll be ready to hear them?"
Sam turned to look at him. Dean stared out the window.
"I don't know, Dean... But you've got to risk it," said Sam. "He needs you to love him. Even if he might hate you one day."
Dean nodded and took a deep breath to brace himself. He walked over to the door and put his hand on the handle. He turned it and opened the door, letting bright sunlight into the room.