Chapter Note: Sorry about the delay in posting this one. Work has been crazy lately, and I haven't been able to focus on reading or writing as much as I would have liked. To all of those who took the time to review, I am beyond grateful. Mille mercis

Chapter 4: Miles to go

Day 8

My brother was a genius. Huh. It still sounds funny to my ears. I always knew he was more intelligent than he let on. Sometimes, these last years, he'd say something, and he would get me by surprise. But he's always been a master at hiding and acting. That, I've known since I was a kid, since the first time I saw him hide an injury from Dad. But this. This is a surprise. I've spent the last days reading and tracking down his work. The articles in scientific magazines so advanced I only understand one word out of twelve, the patents for the equipment I've been using daily for the last 3 years.

I don't know my brother. Sometimes, I wonder if I ever did.

Would he have told me, at any point, that he was so…brilliant? I doubt it. Because as self-assured as Dean always looked, there was always this…darkness. As though he wouldn't believe he was worth anything, except as a hunter, except as my protector. I think that's my worst failing. Somehow, I'm starting to understand that as bad as my failure at keeping him out of Hell was, and is, the worst thing I've ever done as a brother is not tell him what he meant for me. I never showed him how much I admired him, how much I needed him.

Now, it's too late. My brother's gone to Hell for me, and I'll never get the chance to tell him how much I loved him. That without him, there's no Sam, because he raised me, he pushed me, and he loved me.

The work behind the Sammy Dream Fund is…astounding. The existence of the fund in itself… I've wondered for the last three years what my time at Stanford was like for my brother. For him to have held on the Fund all those years…

"Bobby?" Sam hovered in the kitchen doorway. For an instant, he looked exactly as he had as a ten years old about to ask for something.

Bobby bit back the smile that wanted to peek through his scowl. He'd known this was coming ever since he'd nearly bitten Sam's head off two days before.

"What?"

"Dean…what…I mean, how was he when I was…" Sam stammered out awkwardly before he combed his fingers through his hair for the thousand time that day.

Bobby sighed. "How he was when you were dead you mean?"

Sam winced. " No, how was he when I was at school?" It was the safer subject because as much as he wanted to know about the time between being stabbed and waking up on the old stained mattress, he had the feeling that he wasn't quite ready to know how bad Dean had been. The resulting deal was picture enough of Dean's inability to cope.

Bobby bowed his head, hoping to hide the feelings that welled up when he thought of those dark first months. Somehow, the eldest of the Winchester brother had wormed his way deep into his heart.

"The first months…they weren't good Sam, he was either reckless or numb. He would throw himself in front of your father while on a gig, then he would drink himself silly for a straight week. It wasn't pretty Sam, believe me, it wasn't pretty at all." Bobby stood up, turning his back on Sam as he started pacing. "He got better slowly, either that or he got better at faking it. Actually, now that I think about it, he was probably faking it. But let's just say that your brother got more than his share of bruises these last years. And I know I wasn't around for most of those years because I kinda threw your daddy out on his ass, but I know it wasn't all sunshine and roses."

Sam rubbed his face. He had no trouble imagining what Bobby was telling him and it made him sick to think that Dean might have been seriously injured and he never would have known him. Hell, knowing his stubborn ass of a brother, he probably was seriously injured. He cursed under his breath and looked up at Bobby.

"Thanks Bobby. I just…I needed to know."

I don't think I knew my brother, not before he died and went to Hell for me. I will find a way to get my brother back. I have amends to do, so many things I wish I could have said to him. He never knew how much I missed him, how many times I almost called him when I was in Stanford. I took him for granted, and that's the thing I regret the most. And now, now that he's gone, I realized that everything I am, I owe to him. He was more father to me than Dad was, he was the one who really raised me, and the things he sacrificed, the things he did for me, I'll never be able to repay. So yes, I will find a way to get him out of Hell, because I can't imagine a world without my big brother in it.

End Notes: Chapter title is from another Robert Frost poem. That line is one of my favourite ever, and even though I know it's been overused, I decided not to care. So this is the end. I know the story could go on, could go into Sam's search to get Dean out, but I like the "an angel yanked him out of Hell" plot.