Moments later, Sam watched as Dean moved around the room, picking up things here and there and stowing them in his duffle.

Wordlessly, Sam moved to his bed and fished his own bag out from under. He began placing his belongings carefully inside.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

Sam stopped, looking confused, "I thought you were packing."

"I am."

He stood looking at Dean, confusion joining the mix of other emotions registering on his face, "So, we're leaving or not?"

Dean snorted, "Only one of us is leaving, baby bro."

"Oh, right. So you're just leaving me here."

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Whatever you say, Dean." Sam replied, gathering up his favorite tee and dropping it in the bag.

"Believe me or not, Sam." Dean replied. "I am so done with your ass."

Sam shook his head and remained silent, continuing his recon mission around the room.

Dean finished, took a single last look around, and pulled his bag onto his shoulder. With his free hand, he grabbed the weapons bag. He opened the door and closed it behind him. Stowing both bags in the Impala's trunk, Dean returned to the room and watched Sam as he finished up. When his brother turned to face him, Dean held out his hand.

"I guess this is it Little Bro," he said, offering his hand.

Sam just looked at him blankly. "What are you doing?"

"Shake?"

Sam sighed and shook Dean's hand. "How far are you going to take this, Dean?" he scowled. "I don't even know what you're mad about, but it's getting old."

"Oh, I'm not kidding, Sammy. I'm getting the hell out."

Sam began to look nervous. "And I'm what? Staying here?"

"You can stay til tomorrow. You're paid up til then. Check out is 11 am."

Sam shifted from foot to foot. "And then what? You come back for me after I've learned whatever lesson it is you're trying to teach me?"

Dean smiled, "Oh, I'll be hell and gone by 11 am, Sammy."

Sam just shook his head and moved for the door, but Dean snaked out an arm, blocking his advance. "What the hell, Dean!" Sam yelled, "Knock it off, already!"

"I told you Sam, there's no way in hell you're getting in my car. Not tonight. Not ever again."

Sam's eyes shone a little too brightly as he stood looking at his brother. And as Dean stared back, he felt strangely detached. He knew he'd normally be a sucker for a teary-eyed Sammy, but somehow all he could feel at the moment was a touch of revulsion. It was like he didn't even recognize the kid standing in front of him, and he couldn't get away fast enough.

"Well, take care," He said, moving to open the driver's side door of the Impala.

Sam darted forward and grabbed his brother's sleeve at the wrist. "What are you trying to do Dean, scare me? Well it worked. I'm scared, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you want me to beg you to take me with you?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Wow, way to take it like a man, Sam."

Sam just stared, blinking rapidly. "Fine. I guess I'm begging then. Does that make you feel better, Dean?"

Dean snarled and wrenched his arm away. "Dammit, get away from me, Sam. I'm done!"

Finally, Sam took a step back. He released his brother's arm and stood staring silently, tears not quite finding their release. Dean took advantage of the moment to slide behind the wheel and turn the key. As the engine roared to life, Dean backed away from the motel, away from his brother, and away from the only life he'd ever known. He glanced back once in the rear view mirror at Sam as he stood on the curb, hunched forward with his duffle on his shoulder and the brisk October wind blowing raggedly through his hair.