Dean woke up and was happy to see that Sam was sleeping. He was bigger than he was at 14. Dean estimated him to be about 21 or 22. Probably before he went and got him at Stanford, but not long before.

Dean hated to risk waking him up before he got to that critical point, but the ropes looked like they could be cutting off some major circulation. He had tied them around 14 year old wrists and they hadn't expanded to the new size.

Dean came up with a cover story in case Sam did wake up. He took the padlock off the door and cut the ropes off.

Just as Dean had feared Sam woke up.

Sam felt a pain in his wrists as he came awake. The last thing he remembered was going to bed with Jess after a really late study session. He tried to focus his eyes. "Dean?" He looked a little old. Hunting probably did that to you.

"Hey, Sammy. You OK?"

"What's going on? How did I get here? Where is here?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Dean asked. Always a good place to start when you're going to make things up.

"I just went to bed with my girlfriend, Jessica. We were studying late."

"This guy who wanted something from dad snuck in your apartment and drugged you and kidnapped you. Dad took care of it."

"Is Jess OK?" Sam asked in a panic. If he had gotten her hurt he would never forgive himself. He thought since he had left the life it was safe to have a girlfriend.

"Yeah, she's fine. We told her Dad was a CIA agent and not to call the cops. You're probably going to have some pretty serious explaining to do." Sam would remember soon enough about Jess. No reason to ruin his happiness now.

Sam sighed in relief. "Can I borrow your phone? I want to call her."

"Sorry, dude. I was going to call Dad to tell him I found you but my battery's dead."

"Oh. Well, let's go. Where are we anyway?"

"Delaware."

"That's a long way from Stanford. We'll have to find a pay phone somewhere."

"Sure, Sammy. Come on."

"It's Sam."

Dean smiled. Sam hadn't corrected him on that in years. That made him wonder something. "So, what's the date?"

"What?"

"You were drugged. Standard question."

"Oh. Sure. It's October 12, 2005."

Dean wished he had let him sleep a few more minutes. It would have made this so much easier.

They went out to the car.

"Where's the Impala? "

"It got to the point we just couldn't fix it any more."

"Sorry. I know how much you loved that car," Sam said.

Dean was a little disappointed that Sam wasn't more upset about the demise of the car. But, it never really meant as much to Sam. Sam wasn't worried about things. Sam didn't have a leather jacket he wore everywhere. He didn't have an amulet. He didn't have a really old cassette collection. Dean had never noticed that about him before. He wondered why that was. Maybe they could psychoanalyze that when Sam was back to normal.

"So, what did this guy want?" Sam asked when they had been driving a couple of minutes.

"What guy?"

"Duh. The guy that kidnapped me."

"Oh. Dad didn't tell me. You know him and his secrets."

Sam gave Dean a surprised look. It almost sounded like Dean was questioning the Great and Powerful Oz, otherwise known as Dad. He would let it pass, though.

SSS

Dean pulled up to a diner. "Hungry?"

"Starving. I wonder if they have a pay phone."

"No idea," Dean said, hoping they didn't.

They walked in and looked around. Dean was gratified at the apparent absence.

"Can I help you?" the waitress asked.

"I'll have a bacon cheeseburger," Dean ordered his usual.

"Me, too," Sam said. Jess liked him to eat healthy. He hadn't had a burger in over a year. "Do you have a pay phone."

"Sorry, sweetie. With everyone having cell phones it just didn't pay to keep it around."

"OK, thanks."

"I'm surprised you're getting a cheeseburger," Dean commented.

"Why?" He and Dean had practically grown up on cheeseburgers and pizza. He wasn't sure if he had ever eaten anything else in Dean's presence.

"No reason," Dean said, realizing that he used to eat them all the time.

"So, what have you and Dad been up to?"

"Hunting."

"Don't you ever want to get out? Have a nice, safe, normal existence?" Sam asked. He really wanted something more for his brother. Plus, every time he thought about his family, he always wondered if they were dead. Hunting was pretty high risk.

"If we don't save people, who will?" Dean asked. It was half-hearted, though. He hadn't enjoyed hunting for years. Not since Hell. He was sick of the responsibility. But, he had learned the hard way that there was no way out.

"It's not that I want people to die, you know?" Sam said, detecting an insult.

"I know that, Sam." Nobody knew that more than him. Sam had jumped into Hell to save the world. If anyone deserved to have a nice, happy life it was Sam. He felt a tear rolling down his cheek, knowing that he would never have it. Knowing that the next time Sam woke up, he would have changed from this semi-innocent, happy, head-over-heels in love, successful law school student.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Let's go," Dean said, getting up and heading out the door before Sam could question him more.

Of course, he should have realized that he would be captive in the car.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked again.

"It's nothing. You were just right earlier. Sometimes I do want more. I want a family. But, I just know it's not in the cards for me. I envy you, Sam. That you get to have a normal life."

"You can, too," Sam said.

Dean decided to humor him. After all, he wouldn't remember this conversation. "You know. Maybe you're right. I'm going to tell Dad I quit hunting and I'm going to be a mechanic and get married."

He was rewarded by the biggest smile he'd ever seen on his normally grumpy brother.

"Palo Alto needs mechanics," Sam said, helpfully.

Dean gave him a smile back. It was nice to know his brother had wanted him around back then. "Why don't you get some sleep," he said, regretfully. This was probably the last time in his life Sam was truly happy.

"OK," Sam said and leaned his head up against the window and closed his eyes.