Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Supernatural. (Also, I used that stupid Winchester Losechester joke that I heard Jared Padalecki make on some panel discussion thing I watched on youtube.)

Hope you like this one! Thanks for reading :)

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The impala came to a stop and Sam shut off the engine. Back to school. His two-week suspension had come and gone. Towards the end of his break he was actually beginning to enjoy his time with Dean and Robin. His nightmares were not showing any signs of stopping, but he felt like his random panic attacks were mostly under control. So back to school it was.

The morning was quiet and uneventful. Filled with sideways glances and forced smiles. Lunch was a different story.

Sam collected his food and sat himself down in the corner of the cafeteria at an empty table. Halfway through his cardboard pizza, a familiar face appeared across the table. Carson set a lunch tray down and took a seat.

Sam said nothing, but his face conveyed his confusion.

"Hey," Carson said casually, as if their eating lunch together was a normal occurrence.

"Hey?" Sam replied.

"Look," Carson said taking a deep breath, "I was a jerk. I'm sorry."

Sam looked up at Carson in shock.

"Ok?" Sam said, his voice still full of suspicion.

"I feel bad about what I did man," Carson said looking down at his lunch tray, "I, uh, well I know it's hard…being the new guy."

Sam could sense the sincerity in Carson's voice.

"Yeah," Sam said, "I'm kind of use to it."

"You move around a lot?"

"Yeah."

"Me too," Carson said, "I mean back when I was a kid. Military dad. But I've been here since freshman year. Was your dad military too?"

"Yeah, kind of. But now I'm with my brother." Sam said, giving no further explanation.

"Sonny told me," Carson admitted, "I know your brother."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, well, he was just leaving when I was coming in, but he was always nice."

Sam wasn't sure what to say.

"I went to his wrestling championship." Carson smiled, "He dominated. You must have had some crazy wrestling matches when you were kids."

Sam shrugged. Sure he remembered going up against Dean, but not for fun. Training. Dean and Sam trained together and Sam was always grateful for Dean's restraint. Dean was older and definitely stronger, but he didn't take advantage of his size and power. Things changed once Dean left.

"Fight back," John commanded. Sam was pinned down under the weight of his father. "Dammit Sam, fight back!"

"I'm trying," Sam spat out. He was no match for his ex-military, full-grown, father.

"Not hard enough," John said, standing up. He looked down at his son. "I know that you probably think I'm not being fair. I'm not letting you win. That's because out there, nobody is going to let you win, let you overtake them. You have to earn that. Train, build strength, skills, knowledge. You think a werewolf is going to hold back? Fight at half-strength just to make you feel better about yourself?"

"No sir."

"Exactly. Get up," John commanded.

"So, you wrestle too?" Carson asked. It was a question asked simply to keep the conversation alive.

"No," Sam said, "I don't do…sports."

"Really?" Carson asked, "not even basketball?"

Sam shrugged.

"I'm on the team." Carson sat up a little taller, "I'm the captain."

"Cool." Sam said with mild interest.

"You're taller than any of our players. Plus there's a couple guys on the team who don't always keep their grades high enough, so they can't play in the games." Carson said. "And I, uh, asked Coach. He said you could try out. We still have a lot of games coming up."

"I don't know," Sam said. He hadn't been on a team since he was a kid. Soccer. Dean begged their dad to let them stay in town long enough for Sam to finish the soccer season. He was so proud of his little trophy. Sam handed it to his father like it was made of gold. John validated him with a quick smile. Then set the trophy down and left. He came back in a week with blood splatters on his sleeves and alcohol on his breath. John threw the trophy in the trunk of the impala and Sam never saw it again.

"I've never been on a basketball team." Sam said.

"Then it's probably about time you joined one." Carson said smiling. The lunch bell rang. "Your choice man. You'd really be helping me out, not that you have any good reason for wanting to help me out. The team could use you. 4pm at the school gym."

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"How was your day?" Dean asked. He was in the kitchen, grabbing food from the refrigerator.

"Fine. Why are you here?"

"What a guy isn't allowed in his own home?" Dean asked. He pulled out a soda. "Want one?"

"No thanks." Sam set his backpack down on the counter.

"Robin didn't have time to make me a lunch and I wasn't feeling the freezer burnt burritos. Thought I could make it till dinner, but here I am. I'm gonna head back to work in a few. Want to come?"

"Actually," Sam said, "I think I have something."

"Like the flu?" Dean asked, suddenly concerned.

"No, like basketball practice."

"Really? Wow, that's great." Dean tried to reign in his excitement and surprise. "I thought the season started a few weeks ago."

"Yeah, well I guess they still need a few more players." Sam shrugged, "I don't know though."

"Well, it's your choice man," Dean said.

"I just…" Sam sighed.

"What?"

"I don't want them staring."

Dean took a moment to process. The scars, basketball shorts, basketball jerseys.

"If it's something you want to do. Do it." Dean said, "People are going to judge and hate and be stupid. You can't let them control your life. You're in control of your life."

"That's a new concept," Sam said with a huff. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

"Huh, yeah guess so." Dean smiled a bit, "You know when I first started calling the shots in my life here, it was tough. I thought I knew myself so well. I liked guns, hunting, and being on the road. When I didn't have those things anymore, those things that made me who I was, I realized: that wasn't me. That was Dad. I learned that I like fixing things, and helping people, and sports, and I learned that I loved you and needed you more that I even knew."

"Yeah," Sam's face started turning pink, "you complete me too. Is the chick-flick moment over yet?"

"Sure," Dean nudged Sam playfully. "But you should know that I really do love you. I know we didn't say it a lot growing up."

"I always knew." Sam said.

"I just thought, maybe you'd forgotten or thought I didn't love you anymore because… I never came back." Dean sighed, "I'm sorry about that. I will always be sorry about that. I should have figured out a way for us to be together."

"I'm here now." Sam said. He looked into his brother's eyes, "And I'm here to stay."

The smile that overtook Dean's face was blinding.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Sam smiled. Dean's smile was infectious and Sam couldn't stop smiling alongside him. Finally, Sam cleared his throat, "I better get ready to go."

"Yeah, don't want to give the coach the wrong first impression." Dean said. "I should get going too. Hey, my truck's acting up, you mind giving me a ride? You can just pick me up when you're done with practice."

The best auto mechanic in the state is having car problems?"

"Shut up." Dean said smiling.

"Yeah, I'll give you a ride." Sam smiled, "But I'm driving."

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"Alright, stretch it out and then give me five laps," Coach Turner called out. His voice echoing through the gym. He walked over to Sam, "So you're the new kid?"

"Yes sir," Sam answered.

"Put this on." Coach Turner tossed Sam a black practice jersey.

Sam took a deep breath unzipped his jacket, slid his shirt off and the practice jersey on. His dark scars were like neon signs against his pale skin. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him.

"You, uh," Coach Turner cleared his throat, "gonna be ok playing rough out there on the court?"

"I don't have any open wounds," Sam said. "I'll be fine."

Coach Turner nodded.

After the warm-up's, they started running drills. Sam wasn't used to playing on a team, but he had watched college ball on motel tv's. He picked up the drills fast, and his height definitely gave him an advantage over his teammates.

Time passed quickly and soon the boys were finishing up practice with a quick game.

"Winchester!" Carson yelled. Sam threw the ball across the court, and then cut in towards the basket. Sam made himself available for a pass. Carson spotted Sam and bounce passed the ball in to him. Sam gripped the ball and went straight up to the basket. Right off the backboard and in the hoop. Score!

"Alright, bring it in," Coach Turner called.

The sweaty, smiling boys hustled over to the side of the court.

"Winchester, you're picking up the plays fast. Keep that up and you can count on game time in the next week or so."

Sam smiled wide, his dimples were prominent. Carson gave him an encouraging pat on the back.

"Good hustle out there on the court today boys," Coach Tuner said in his booming voice, "get home, do your homework, get your sleep, no drugs, no girls, no wild parties. I'll see you tomorrow."

The team huddled up and gave a raucous cheer before going their separate ways.

"I thought you said you never played before," Carson said as he and Sam walked out to their cars in the school parking lot.

Sam shrugged.

"Yeah well, thanks for getting me on the team."

"You don't have to thank me man. You could have done it all by yourself." Carson opened the driver side door of his car, "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Sam slid into the driver's seat of his impala and headed for the garage to pick up Dean.

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The impala rolled to a stop in front of the Winchester home.

"Sounds like practice was good." Dean said, climbing out of the car. He could tell Sam was downplaying his excitement.

"Yeah," Sam tried not to smile too big. "I made the winning shot in our practice game."

"Well," Dean tussled his brother's growing hair, "You are a Winchester... Not a Losechester."

"Ha. Ha." Sam laughed a dry sarcastic laugh. "You are so funny."

The brothers entered the home. Dean walked back to the bedrooms, calling out for Robin. Sam plopped himself down on the couch. He closed his eyes and threw his head back on the couch. He knew he needed to hit the showers, but he was pretty beat.

"Robin?"

Sam heard Dean calling out.

Sam flinched when a warm drip of liquid fell on his forehead. Sweat? Then there was another drip. Sam opened his eyes just as Dean entered the living room. Suddenly, the ceiling burst into flames encompassing Robin's body which was pinned to the ceiling and dripping with blood.

"Robin!" Dean cried out in panic. Flames licked the walls and smoke filled the room.

Sam sat on the couch. Stunned. Shocked. Scared.

"Robin! No!" Dean jumped up on the couch and tried to reach through the flames up to his wife. "Robin!"

Flames overtook the couch, but Sam sat still. Dean kicked his catatonic brother; harder than he should have.

"Get out of here Sammy," he yelled. "Get outside."

Sam didn't move. Dean looked up at his wife, her skin almost completely gone. Her face expressionless. Then down to Sam. Sitting in the fire. Numb to his bubbling arms.

Dean cursed. Hot tears stung his face.

"Sammy get out!" Dean shouted. "Now!"

No response.

It became clear, Dean could keep reaching for his wife, who was already past saving, or he could save his brother. Dean jumped down from the couch and grabbed Sam. Sam didn't move an inch. His eyes were still glued to the ceiling.

For the second time in his life, Dean took his brother and carried him out of a burning house.

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Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh crazy! Ok well I hope you liked that.

Thank you to all those who are following, reading, reviewing. I love it! If you have a second to tell me what you think I'd love that.