Hey everyone! Sorry for such a long delay. So many things have been going on in my life right now. I'd rather not talk about them, and just post the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's shorter, but I wanted to get something up for everyone to read. Thank you so much for your reviews and patience! And as always thanks to Gabi for betaing this and helping me feel better when so many things were going wrong for me. If it wasn't for her, this story would never get done! lol

Sam only made it halfway down the block when he heard someone calling his name. He turned around and saw a man around his age sprinting towards him with a look of shock on his face. It was Alex; he looked nearly exactly the same as Sam remembered him, just a few years older.

Alex came to a halt in front of Sam, panting and Sam simply looked up at him and waited. He wasn't sure what Alex wanted with him. Sam brought his son back home and there was nothing left to be said. Cara told him that Alex had changed, but he wasn't so sure of that. His experiences told him to be careful.

"Sam? My god, it's really you!" Alex smiled, looking slightly awkward and Sam wheeled back a little bit. He knew he could take on Alex in a heartbeat, but he really wanted nothing to do with the man. He had contributed to making Sam's childhood close to a living Hell.

Alex saw Sam's weariness and guilt flooded his features. "I...I can't believe you're alive. I...God I'm so sorry. That day when me and Jack left you outside...I've been living in guilt every day since then. Thinking that you were dead and I caused it by not coming back to bring you inside..."

"Well..." Sam said, rolling his eyes slightly. "I guess you can live in peace now that you know I'm alive and well." He went to turn around again when Alex laid a hand on his shoulder.

"No...I really am so sorry." Alex said and this time, it looked like the man was close to tears. "Jack...that kid had me going down the wrong path. I didn't have any family so I sort of looked up to him and followed what he did. I...it took me until this kid threatened us to realize just how bad of an influence Jack had been and how me acting careless could cost someone their life. The kid had mentioned that he'd rescued you…but since I never saw you again I assumed the worst. I felt like the worst person on the planet."

"Yeah, and that kid would be my brother." Sam told him, finding it hard to keep the grin off his face. Good ol' Dean even stopped a nearly-criminal Alex from going the wrong way in life.

Alex seemed confused but to Sam's relief brushed it off. "I met a girl after that and obviously as you saw...we had a kid. It's been though but I've changed. I've become a good father and husband. I know what I did back then can never be taken back but I want to let you know that I truly am sorry."

Sam could continue holding in all his anger and resentment at Alex if he wanted. It might even be expected for someone in his position to do so. He looked at his former foster brother and a thousand thoughts crossed his mind. He remembered all the cruel words Alex said to him, he remembered everything Alex had done to him. Alex hurt him in so many ways… but Sam couldn't deny that the man had changed. He was sincere about his apology and Sam couldn't find it in his heart to stay angry and deny the man his apology.

"I forgive you." Sam told him, and it was like a weight had been lifted off of Alex's shoulders.

"Thank you. And thank you for bringing my son home. He told me that you 'beat up' Jack. That's just...Sam you really are an amazing person. You didn't deserve any of the crap you went through growing up. You do look a lot happier, I hope your life really is better now."

Sam found himself smiling. "It was no problem. The guy is more of a wuss then he lets on, doesn't even know proper fighting skills. And I am very happy...I have my family now and life is just about perfect."

"I'm glad." Alex nodded. Have you moved back into town?"

"Nah, I'm just stopping by to catch up with a few people. My brother will pick me up to bring me back to our motel room."

"I could give you a ride."

Sam looked at him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to spend more time with Alex, but on the other hand, he wasn't sure either if he wanted to spend time with Dean right now. Maybe the idea wasn't that bad.

"I don't want to keep you if you're busy."

"You wouldn't be. I'd really like to do it. And I certainly want to hear more about this brother of yours. Just wait a minute, I'm going to fetch my car."

At the bar Dean and John were listening into some news. The body of a local teenage girl had just been found in an alley. The body had been dead for up to two weeks but the girl had just been spotted yesterday.

John was completely intrigued by the conversation, asking questions to try to see if he could narrow down what this thing could be. Dean listened as his father went through questions, trying to seem like a scared and confused passer-by. Dean thought of joining the conversation when his cell phone rang. Dean flipped it open.

"Hi Sammy. Time to pick you up?"

"No," he heard his brother say. "I'm already back in the motel." Sam hesitated for a moment. "An old friend gave me a ride."

"Okay, then," Dean said. "See you soon." He flipped the phone shut and turned to John. "Sam's already home," he informed him in a low voice, not wanting to disturb the conversation.

Just then the young female bartender walked past Dean, rolling her eyes at the men talking. Dean smirked at her and she winked back in response. Dean took that as a hint and he snuck away from his father.

"Hey there." Dean smiled at the woman. He hadn't really been concentrating on girls lately with his cravings making him irritable. But he was finally at the point where he felt pretty darn good all day long so Dean figured it was about time to flirt.

"Hey yourself." The woman, around Sam's age, giggled and twisted a strand of hair around her index finger, a sure sign that she was interested. It was true that Dean preferred brunettes and someone a bit closer to his age but he'd take what he could get.

"Conversation's pretty boring over there, isn't it?" Dean smirked.

"Yeah." She pouted. "I was kinda hoping you'd want to do something more...interesting..." She smiled as she ran a hand down the base of Dean's neck, teasing him.

But before Dean could make his next move the door to the bar slammed open along with some very loud curse words being spewed about. The girl pulled her hand away with a sigh.

"This guy's a real asshole and he'll be here for a while, ordering a ton of drinks. Here..." She pulled out her pen and wrote her number on Dean's palm. "I'm off work tomorrow night, name's Amy. You going to be free?"

"Dean." He grinned wide. "And you betcha."

"Can't wait...Dean." Amy winked and gave Dean a teasing peck on the lips before walking back to serve the furious man sitting at the bar. Dean walked back to his father, causing John to raise his eyebrows at his eldest son.

"You having fun?" John asked, and Dean could hear the teasing tone in his voice.

Dean blushed. "Shut up, Dad." He growled and grabbed a handful of the onion rings he ordered earlier. 'What did you find out about the girl?"

John was cut off of whatever he was about to say when the furious man-Jack-turned to another guy sitting at the bar.

"You won't believe the shit I went through today!" He growled. The other man he was neither talking to just nodded his head, not seeming the least bit interested but Jack apparently didn't notice nor care. "This fuckin' cripple kid I used to pick on years ago just decided to pick a fight with me, out of the blue!"

As soon as those words were spoken Dean was seeing red. He was so furious he almost didn't catch what the other man said.

"Why are you so mad then?" He chuckled to Jack, looking at his black eye. "He managed to beat you up, didn't he?"

Jack's face turned red and Dean managed to relax a tiny bit. Sam beat the crap out of this guy, he smirked to himself. Thatta boy Sammy. Dean looked at the black eye and bruises littering the man's face when it finally hit him who this guy was.

Jack was the name of one of the stupid foster kids that beat Sam up. This was the kid that left Sam out to die, the one that Dean threw against a wall and threatened and the one who shot Dean himself in the gas station so many years ago.

Dean sprung up, and if it wasn't for his father grabbing a hold of his shirt, Jack would have been a bloody mess on the ground.

"No Dean." John whispered. His face was set in a grim line, and he obviously came to the same conclusion Dean just did. "Follow my lead."

John waited until Jack got bored and sauntered over to a lonely table. He then got up and walked over to Jack, with Dean following him with clenched fists. The oldest Winchester walked up right next to Jack and leaned against the table.

"So I heard that story you were telling your friend." He started. "It was quite the story, why would some disabled kid start fighting with you?"

"It's none of your business." Jack seethed, drowning his beer.

"Oh, but I think it is our business. And I don't believe for one second that he was the one that started the fight." John added on.

"What the hell does it matter?" Jack growled, his face growing red. "The stupid fucking kid wouldn't leave me alone so I grabbed him and threw him to the ground!"

And this time John couldn't hold Dean back as he grabbed Jack and threw him up against the wall.

"Let me go! Who the fuck do you think you are?" Jack yelled, looking a bit frightened.

"I'll tell you who I am. I'm 'that stupid cripple's' older brother you jackass!" Dean spat, landing a punch to the side of Jack's face. "Does this feel familiar, huh? Think back eight years ago. Remember that kid that tried to teach you a lesson?"

Jack seemed confused at first as he stared at Dean's face. Then something clicked. Fear overcame his face but it was quickly replaced be an evil sneer.

"Ha, you're the idiot I shot. You're still alive too?"

Dean pushed Jack harder against the wall, making him grunt in pain. "Man, if I still smoked I'd press another cigarette against your skin, remember what that feels like, Jack? And of course I'm still alive! You think your badly aimed bullet could kill me? It takes a lot more than that." Dean could feel himself getting out of control; he needed to walk away before he did something he would regret later. "If you so much come within a hundred feet of my little brother you'll be wishing you weren't alive." And with that he gave Jack one last shove and walked out of the bar.

At Dean's retreat Jack tried to escape but John grabbed him this time and held him by the throat. There was a clicking noise and soon the barrel of a gun was pressed under Jack's chin.

"You'd be lucky if you ran into Dean. He'd go easy on you. Me...not so much. If you ever touch either of my boys again, I will find you and I will kill you." John put on his best furious-hunter face and Jack seemed to get it right away. "Understand?"

John nodded quickly as John put his gun away and started walking towards the door.

"Oh yeah." John turned around, patting the gun in his pocket. "And just so you know, I know exactly where to aim. I won't miss."

(While Dean and John are at the bar)

When Alex and Sam arrived at the motel Sam couldn't help but laugh as his former foster-brother attempted to set up Sam's wheelchair for him. Sam let Alex try a few more times before finally butting in and telling Alex he could do it. Sam knew that Alex used to know how to work his wheelchair after messing with it so much, but he probably forgot over the years. While it was usually Dean's 'job' to set up Sam's chair for him whenever he exited a car, Sam was fully capable of doing it himself. He opened to the door and pushed his legs out so he faced outside. Alex handed him the chair and in one fluid motion Sam had the wheelchair set up and lowered himself into it. Alex looked impressed and also guilty, probably remembering all the times he kept Sam's chair out of reach. As he was walking back to the driver's side, Alex invited Sam to stop by sometime before he left the town. Sam wasn't sure if he would feel comfortable about that but he told Alex he'd try.

Finally back inside the motel room, Sam let out a groan and rubbed at his eyes. He was completely exhausted but he knew he still had work to do. First thing he decided to do was to call Dean and let him know he didn't need a ride home. Maybe Dean would stay out later then...Sam really didn't want to deal with Dean's grumpy attitude. He could only hope that the time in the bar and a beer had raised his brother's mood a bit."

His hopes seemed like they might be true because when Sam called Dean seemed much happier. Sam felt himself relaxing because of it, his own feelings tended to reflect those of his brother. When Dean was grouchy it put Sam in a bad mood and when Dean was cheerful, Sam couldn't help but be happy; his brother just had that sort of effect on him.

Even though Dean might be feeling better, his brother probably wouldn't want to come home to help Sam with his exercises so Sam figured he should do some on his own tonight. He lowered himself onto the floor and laid down, starting to do some sit-ups. After a while he pushed himself onto his stomach and did some pushups.

When he was finished all Sam wanted to do was fall asleep, but now he was all sweaty so a shower was in order. Lifting himself onto the seat bolted down in the shower, Sam let his mind wander. His daily exercises and maneuvering out of his chair came easily to Sam but after a while, it even exhausted him. Sam wondered what it was like for Dean and John and everyone else who could walk. Were daily things so much easier for them? They didn't have to drag around their limp legs while getting into the shower or into bed or into a car. Simple little things like this Sam often thought about and he bet other people never spared those details a second thought. When he was a kid, Sam had often wondered how the floor would feel against his feet and if the feeling was the same as it was to his hands. Sam smiled when he remembered how he sometimes crept over the floor, anxious to feel with his hands what he couldn't feel with his feet and legs.

Sam didn't realize how long he'd been pondering until he felt the water turning cold. He placed the hand-held shower spray he used back on the rack and couldn't help as he looked up at the spray that was up high, the one that Dean and John would use. So many things were different for them, things that Sam usually didn't think about. Maybe that was the reason so many people acted awkward around him. Not because he was in a wheelchair, but because he had different needs, different ways of doing things and they didn't want to mess anything up because they didn't understand.

Sam pulled on his boxers and a t-shirt he brought into the bathroom. He was able to pull on his shorts quick, but that didn't mean it didn't feel like a hassle. He watched Dean pull on pants and how easily and fluidly he was able to do it. Sam never had such luck, usually having to lie down on the bed to pull his pants on. And jeans...they were ten times worse. It was difficult to pull up so much material and Sam actually bought pant sizes that were too big on him just because they were a lot easier to get on.

Really, if Sam could just have one day, only one day to be able to walk, to see what it was like... That was all he wanted. Not some magical cure, just a day so he could find out all the answers to his questions. SO he could do the things he had always missed out on. To feel what it was like to kick a soccer ball, to run through a field, to climb a ladder, to jump, to blend in with a crowd, to make love...

Sam shook his head, sometimes things got to him like this and he needed to stop because it would just lead to him being in a bad mood. He would never be able to do those things and he just needed to face the facts. Sighing, Sam decided to distract himself so he made himself a sandwich, this time very aware of the lowered counter he was preparing it on and wheeled himself over to the table and turned on his laptop.

He'd find information on the girl Mr. Culler had told him about. Research was always a good distraction.

When Dean and John made it back to the motel Dean had to work hard to hold back his laughter at the sight in front of him.

Sam was sitting in his chair next to the little dining table. His laptop was open and his head was resting on the keyboard. Sam's right hand rested on the table holding a half eaten sandwich. He was fast asleep.

John shook his head with a smile on his face and went to wake Sam but Dean held him back. He winked at his father silently letting him know I got this.

Seeing that Sam had fallen asleep while at his computer told Dean that his little brother had been very exhausted and would be in a deep sleep. Dean walked over to Sam, taking a bite from the unfinished sandwich before he carefully grabbed Sam's shoulders and pulled his torso back so he was leaning against his chair. Sam only let out a little moan so Dean proceeded with his next step. He placed one arm under Sam's knees and the other behind his back, easily picking up his brother from many years of practice. If anyone else had attempted to pick Sam up while he was sleeping he would have woken up at once. But since it was Dean, Sam didn't stir. Not only because Dean was extremely gentle and careful with his brother but also because deep down, even though Sam was sleeping he knew it was his brother's hands holding him. That sense of comfort and familiarity alone allowed Sam to continue sleeping.

Dean could almost feel his father's smile as he walked over to the bed and placed his giant brother on the mattress. It wasn't until Dean placed the covers over Sam's chest that he started to mumble and shift a bit. It was almost cute, if Dean dared say so.

Dean leaned over his brother with a quiet laugh. "Awe, Sammy. How about a good night kiss?"

Before Dean could get any closer to him to further his joke Sam spoke, his eyes still shut. "Don't you even dare." He grumbled, hardly understandable as he snuggled deeper into his pillow.

Dean laughed, nearly all of his anger from earlier in the day forgotten as he patted Sam's shoulder.

"Goodnight Sammy."