Sam pulled his goggles off and rocked back on his heels. "You know what this is?" He looked up at Danny.

The older boy pulled a long draw on his beer and grinned, "What is it?"

Sam grinned back, "It's the last freaking pin in the last freaking dent."

"Hot damn!" Danny replied, reaching for Sam's beer that rested behind him on the work bench and handing it down to the younger boy. "About damned time. I was starting to think the dents were the only things holding this beauty together."

Sam took a long swig and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, unable to contain a smile. "After this, it's just a little body putty and some sanding."

Danny stood over Sam, admiring his work and nodding. "And then she'll be ready for the paint room." He whistled. "You decide on a color yet?"

"Yep. Black."

"Black like Dean's?"

Sam nodded happily.

"You got pretty good pretty fast with that stud welder." Danny offered.

"It's fun to use. Thanks for showing me. Sure beats trying to beat 'em out with the mallet."

"Well thank you for having the fake ID and the secret stash of beer in your mini fridge, Sir."

Sam laughed. "Anytime."

"It's the good stuff too. Who knew a 17-year-old had better taste in beer than me?"

"It's what Dean drinks." Sam admitted. "I just bought it because of that. Honestly, I've never tried anything else."

Danny raised his beer, "To Dean, then." He said, 'The man with the excellent taste in beer."

Sam smiled, and tipped his bottle. "To Dean." He echoed. "You have no idea how big a compliment you just paid him. He'd be hard to live with for a week after hearing that."

Danny moved to the front of the Mustang and leaned against it, legs crossed. "You really miss him, hunh?"

Sam stood up and placed the stud welder gently back on the shelf. He dusted himself off before joining Danny. "Yeah, I do." He said softly. "More every day."

"You know, you can use the house phone to call him any time you want. You have Dad totally in your pocket."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure he's convinced you're the last of your kind – someone under the age of 18 with a good work ethic and respect for their elders."

Sam grinned, "Well, I know all about respecting fathers; that's for sure. My old man wrote the rule book."

Danny was silent for a moment, "You don't talk about him like you do Dean. Is he still in the picture?"

Sam shrugged. "Not sure. Haven't heard from him in a while."

"He just took off? That's gotta be rough."

"I think something happened to him. He'd get in touch if he could."

"Maybe he just got caught up somewhere."

Sam shook his head. "For a while there, when I was … alone. I was mad at him every day for not getting in touch. But deep down, I know he would have if he could have, you know?"

Danny studied the younger boy who'd become something like a best friend to him in the short time they'd known each other.

"What?" Sam asked, catching the stare.

"I don't know. It just seems a shame that you're only 17, and you're so alone in the world, I guess. I mean, you're a good guy, Sammy. You're cool. You're smart. You're a damn hard worker. You're funny as shit when you're drunk."

Sam snorted.

"I just can't figure out how a guy that sounds as cool as Dean could just walk off and leave you to fend for yourself, I guess. I mean, you had to be what? Sixteen? That had to suck."

Sam was quick to set the record straight. "It's not Dean's fault." He sighed. "It's a long story really, but Mom was dead. Dad was always gone. He worked a lot. And Dean was the one who took care of me all my life basically. From the time he was four, Dean had to be mother, father, and big brother. It couldn't have been easy. I get it now. Sometimes I wish I'd been an easier kid – made it easier on Dean, you know? I was pretty damned selfish, looking back."

"All 16 year olds are selfish, Sam."

"Dean wasn't. When he was 16, he was driving me to school and picking me up after. He made my breakfast in the morning and my dinners at night. He packed my lunches for school. He made sure my clothes were clean and that I did my homework. And when I got sick, and I got sick A LOT, he plied me with medicine and soup. Dad was never around for any of that. I mean, Dean never went to prom. He never joined a basketball team or a car club. He never had a steady girl. Not in all that time. That couldn't have been easy."

Danny smiled. "Well, Dean sounds like one hell of a big brother."

Sam smiled back. "He's the best. He was in a bad place when we parted ways. I still think about that and wish … I wish I'd … made it a little easier on him, you know? I left an awful lot of pissy messages on his phone. I can't ever take those back."

Danny could tell that talking about his brother was therapeutic for Sam, so he let him continue, uninterrupted.

"I want so badly to call him every day, but I want him to be happy more. Does that make sense?"

Danny nodded.

"I think Dean needs time to figure out who he is without having the weight of me hanging around his neck. And now that I'm finally able to take care of myself a little bit, I can give him that. I get it. You know how guys go through mid-life crises when they hit their fifties?"

Danny snorted. "Do I? Some days I think Dad's going freaking insane. He dated my old babysitter last year, Sam. My BABYSITTER! It was totally creepy."

Sam chuckled. "How'd that turn out?"

"About like you'd expect. She came to her senses. That's what."

"That's too funny."

"It would be, if it wasn't so tragic. I still have to see that girl every time I pick up my mail in town. But anyway, you were saying?"

"I just meant that I think maybe Dean packed so much into his 20 years that it was like another man's 50 years, except not in a good way. I think he snapped. Had a breakdown or something. A midlife crisis at 20. That'd be the Winchester luck."

"So, you're not going to call him anymore?"

Sam shook his head. "No. More than anything, I want Dean to have a chance for a real life. And if that means I never get to s-see him again, then so be it." Sam took a swig of beer to hide the break in his voice.

"Hey Sammy."

Sam cleared his throat, "Yeah?"

"You know what I have?"

"What?"

"Three front-row seats to the best fourth of July fireworks in the greater city of Benton, Illinois."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and you're invited." Danny said, as he pulled three faded camp chairs out of the garage and swept the cobwebs off. "Careful there. Sometimes the front row gets all the critters."

Sam laughed as he set up his own chair and brushed it off. "Cup-holders, even." He noted.

"Only the best for the working man, Sam. Hey Dad." Danny greeted, handing his dad a chair and a beer from the cooler that sat in front of Sam's Mustang.

"Hey Ron," Sam greeted his boss and friend.

"Hey Danny. Hey Sam. Where'd you get this?" He drawled, twisting the top off and taking a long swig. "Damn. That's the good stuff, too."

Sam looked a little guilty as Danny gestured his way. "Sammy has connections." He said.

Ron looked at Sam without judgment. He'd grown damned fond of the boy who had enough morals to look uncomfortable at the revelation. And he had no intention of letting on that he'd accidentally overheard most of the conversation that had just taken place between his son and his young employee.

"Connections at 17," he nodded appreciatively. "We better keep you around, then, Sam."

Sam grinned and sank easily into his chair as the fireworks started far away on the south end of town.

"Hey Sam?" Danny offered.

"Yeah?"

"What say we take that fake ID of yours into town this weekend and light up a game of pool at Bixby's? Dad will come. Won't you, Dad?"

"Well hell yeah. Been a long time since I enjoyed a game of pool."

Sam nodded. "Sounds good."

"It's a plan then." Danny settled back to enjoy the show.

As the fireworks lit up the late summer sky, the view from Ritter's garage was perfect, and Sam couldn't help thinking about another Fourth of July fireworks display from what seemed like a lifetime ago – and how much Dean would love this – the beer, the car, the company. Sam sent up a silent prayer that wherever his brother was right now, he was safe and content. More than anything, Sam wished those two things for the man who'd sacrificed so much to give him everything.