Another too-long chapter, but I had to wrap up the Lawrence timeline and Dean's story in one fell swoop. Thanks for reading!

In the dark, Dean could tell Castiel's mind was racing. Castiel kept shifting next to him, sighing, muttering to himself, and turning the pillow over. It was driving Dean crazy, but he couldn't exactly sleep himself, so he couldn't be irritated at Castiel for being restless. Around 2am, he spoke up.

"Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, a Cast was stirring, like a really annoying mouse." He muttered.

Castiel groaned. "Dean, come on, that was a lame joke. Even for you."

"What's going on in that busy head of yours?" He murmured. He reached and stroked his fingers across a stubbly cheek.

"I don't know. I'm just worried." He confessed.

"About what?"

"I don't know how you deal with all this. Your mom just disappearing and not coming back and possibly running off to your abusive father. Your brother seeing… what did he call it, an imaginary friend… and being so flip about it. It's making my stomach hurt."

"Do you see why I didn't come back for two years?" Dean said sarcastically.

"I'm serious. I just… I'm worried for them. I don't know them, yet I'm worried for them."

"It sucks. But as I've learned from you, I might point out; you have to deal with it. It's part of the package." Dean said into the dark. He was learning to accept this, slowly but surely. His family would never be the Singers, no matter how much he wanted them to be.

"I know, I just… I don't know, I didn't realize, I guess."

"Thank you for being worried." Dean said. His voice was soft. On some strange level, the fact that Castiel was worried about his family made his heart hurt in both good and bad ways. It meant so much, even though he didn't want to burden someone like Castiel, who already had so much of his own baggage.

"You're… welcome?" Castiel said, sounding a little confused.

"It means a lot that my family makes you lose sleep. I mean, I hate that you're losing sleep and worrying, but I don't know, it's really awesome that you care that much."

"You've shown me a lot. Made me open up a lot, let people back in to my life. I don't know, Dean. Since I met you, I've started… caring about other people again. It's disquieting."

"You didn't care before?" Dean said. He found that impossible. Castiel was one of the most empathetic people he'd ever met. In fact, sometimes he thought Cas was too empathetic and cared too much about other people and how they perceived him.

"I cared, but not like you'd think. I was shut down. I didn't have it in me to let anyone into my life, not after everything that happened. Then I met you. The night… the night I destroyed everything in my apartment… I think that it was kind of a reaction to that, I guess. Now I just worry and toss and turn a lot."

They didn't talk too much about that night. They referred to it in passing as "the night Cas hulked out" or "the night Cas shoved Jo" but that was really it. They had actually made somewhat of a joke out of it, even though it hadn't been a joking matter. More than anything, Dean didn't like to think about it. That night had shown him a side of Castiel he hadn't seen since and never wanted to see again.

"Defense mechanism." Dean said finally. "That's all it was, Cas. I'm glad though. I'm glad you're letting people in again. I'm grateful that you let me and my crazy family into your life."

"I can't help it. You have that effect on me. I never thought I'd worry this much about people I've known for two days." Castiel said, his voice quieter than it had been before.

Dean smiled a little. "Don't worry so much. Sam is fine, believe me, I never thought I'd say that, but he is. My mom… well, she'll be back in the morning."

Castiel sighed and curled up against him in the dark. Dean brushed his lips against the crown of his forehead. "Before you start tossing and turning again, let me just tell you, I'm crazy about you." He murmured into his ear. "I am so fucking glad I found you."

"Same here." Somehow with that invocation, Dean was able to fall asleep again.

Dean awoke to a mouthful of Castiel, whose lips were smashed against his, warm and urgent. Dean's eyes fluttered open and he returned the kiss, although he wasn't in any mood for it. He pulled away, gently pressing his hand on Castiel's chest to push him away.

"Good morning, Dean." Castiel said, settling back onto his side of the bed. He rolled over on his side and propped himself up with his elbow.. He was clad in a Collins College t-shirt that swallowed up his small frame and boxers. His black hair was wild, sticking out in every direction. His eyes were electric, strangely intent, yet also unfocused. Although he looked ready for bed, Dean knew he'd been awake for hours.

"Did you sleep at all?" He responded.

Cas shook his head. Dean sighed. He remembered the night before, when Cas had been 'worried' and how edgy he had been in the hours following Dean's fight with his mother.

"I'm okay." His voice was quiet. "I just… couldn't sleep, I guess. I decided to wake you up."

"It's not a bad way to wake up." Dean said, a smile playing on his lips. "Definitely my favorite way to wake up, in fact." He leaned in and placed a little kiss on Castiel's lips.

"I wish I could wake you up that way every morning." Castiel murmured.

"Who says you can't? Issues of morning breath aside, I'm not really complaining."

Cas rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "You're leaving." He said flatly.

When Cas said that, Dean forgot that it was Christmas Day in Lawrence and that his mother had bailed and that his brother was schizophrenic. Suddenly the most important thing to him was assuring Castiel that, yes, he was leaving, but he wasn't leaving him. Dean hadn't told Castiel, but before they left for Lawrence, he had sent in his first graduate school application and soon, he'd be sending in the rest. Whether he liked it or not, his life was moving forward.

Dean kissed him again. "Come with me." He whispered and immediately, he regretted it.

Dean hadn't meant to say it, especially not with everything so raw from the previous day's happenings. Right now was the definition of wrong time, with the strange heaviness of the holiday and Castiel's vulnerability in the air. This didn't mean that Dean's feelings about the situation had ever changed. They hadn't spoken too much about it, but Dean had wanted him to come with him. He wanted Castiel to quit his job, leave the town he loved and move to the city with him. Dean wanted Castiel with him in no matter what he did. It was selfish, but no matter how much Dean rationalized it, this is what he wanted.

Cas tensed up a little bit and opened his mouth to respond. He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" Dean called out.

"Are you decent? It's Sam."

Reality set back in at the sound of Sam's voice.

Dean quickly got up and pulled on a pair of jeans and Cas did the same. Sam came into the room. He was already fully dressed and he looked grave.

"What is it, Sammy? Did Santa not bring your stocking?" Dean asked, smirking a little bit at the memory of a 12 year old Sam wailing because their parents hadn't set up stockings for them that year.

Sam shot a glance at Castiel, who looked entirely uncomfortable and slightly annoyed at Sam's intrusion on their conversation. Sam sighed deeply and nodded toward the hallway, indicating they needed privacy.

"Cas, can you give us a minute?" Dean said.

Cas looked slightly offended but went out into the hallway. Dean closed the door.

"Sammy?"

Sam sighed again. He looked slightly nauseated. "Mom's back. He... well, he hurt her pretty bad." He said.

All of the humor drained out of him and he felt the rage that always accompanied the mention or thought of his father creep to the surface. Dean blinked, once, twice.

"What did he do to her?" He kept his voice tight and controlled.

"Black eye, dislocated shoulder and some bruises." Sam muttered, looking at the wall behind Dean, avoiding his eyes.

Dean seethed, seeing red, overwhelmed by the urge to go find his father and kill him. If his father had appeared in front of him at that very second, Dean would kill him and feel absolutely no remorse over it. In fact, he'd feel joy.

"Why isn't she at the hospital?" Dean asked, his voice shaking.

Sam sighed for the third time in five minutes. "She's a nurse; she knows the injuries don't require a hospital. She already had someone fix the shoulder."

"Did she go to the police?"

Sam didn't answer and Dean knew she hadn't. Dean's face heated up. He stalked over to his suitcase and grabbed his coat, pulling it on.

"Dean." Sam said. "Dean, don't."

"I'm going to kill him." Dean growled. He opened the door and barreled down the stairs. Cas and Sam followed him, Sam uttering protests, telling him no no no, Cas saying "Dean? DEAN? Dean?" Dean drowned their voices out. All he saw was his father's bloodied face, his mother's perpetual fat lip, and the image of Sam crying when they left yet again . Dean wanted it over, he needed it over. He needed his father dead, gone, where he could never hurt any of them again.

Dean grabbed his keys off the table next to the door, when he felt Sam grab his arm. Dean spun to face him.

"What?" He cried.

"You don't need to do this." Sam said. "You can't do this. Not again."

Dean flashed back to the last time he had been home, two years ago, when he'd idiotically agreed to get a beer with his dad and the night had ended with the two of them in a bar fight, running out before the police arrived.

"That man beat the hell out of mom. That man doesn't know us. He's a terrible person. I'm going to give him a taste of his own goddamn medicine!"

"Dean, you're nothing like him. You don't need to do this." Sam repeated.

Dean seethed, but stopped in his tracks. Castiel stood behind Sam, still wearing his enormous Collins College t-shirt, his eyes wide and terrified. It hit Dean that Cas had never seen him angry. Sure, they had fought and yelled, but right now, he was filled with pure rage right now and he fully intended to confront his father and kill him.

"Don't do it, man. Don't stoop to his level. Stay here, be the man. Be the man for mom and me. Mom doesn't need to deal with this right now and Cas doesn't need to see you like this. Come on, dude, let's just… chill. I know it's hard, but please, for us, don't do this."

Dean stood there, trembling. Images of his father faded momentarily and all he saw was Sam and Cas. He stared at his brother, whose eyes were so wide, so earnest. He saw a brother that he'd raised, a brother who idolized him and didn't need him getting into trouble over a waste of life like their father. He saw Cas standing behind his brother, looking shocked at Dean's sudden outpouring of anger, the full lips that Dean loved so much trembling like he was about to cry. Their faces were so different, yet so similar. Sam had seen him like this so many times and didn't need to see him like this again. Cas had never seen him like this and didn't need to start. Dean felt himself calming down ever so slightly at the sight of these two men who he loved so much, albeit in completely different ways.

Dean deflated, visibly and Sam reached over and extricated the keys from his hands and set them on the table. He reached over and grabbed Dean's arm and gently guided him to the living room. Mary was sitting on the couch, trying to knit, but Dean could see how tight her jaw was and the way her lips were trembling. Clearly she had heard everything.

Dean stared at her, the rage dissipating completely when she looked up at him. The swollen purple bruise around her eye should have made him angrier, but suddenly he felt so bad for her, that he knew that if he ran off to confront his father, that she'd fall to pieces and leave Sam with no one and Dean couldn't let that happen.

"Mom." He said softly. "Are you okay?"

She shook her head. "I shouldn't have left yesterday. I shouldn't have gone to him. This is my fault." She whispered.

"No, this is not your fault." Sam said. "Mom, this is his fault."

"I told him I was leaving him for good. I told him that he drove Dean away for two years and that it was over. He went crazy."

This had happened dozens of time, as far as Dean could remember. His father would do something stupid, like spend all their money on gambling or booze and she'd threaten to leave him until he smacked her around for awhile. Sometimes she'd stay away for weeks at a time, but she always would go back and they'd run away together. Dean closed his eyes. He wanted her to be done with him more than anything. He'd give anything for her to leave him.

"He wasn't always like this." She murmured. "He wasn't always this mean."

She was right, he hadn't always been mean. Until Dean and Sam were 11 and 7, John Winchester had always been around. He rarely drank. He and Mary kissed like teenagers. Something happened that year and he lost his job as a security guard and he started drinking more and more. Then he started leaving. When Dean was 13, he saw his father slap his mother for the first time. Dean wondered what had changed, if he was only mean when he was drunk. He still wondered this, but he no longer cared because John Winchester was dead to him.

"Maybe he has what Sam has." She said, almost talking to herself. "Dean, he was out of his mind. Maybe he's the reason Sam is sick. We know it's genetic."

It runs in families.

Dean shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Sam is nothing like him."

"Neither are you." Sam interjected, looking a little ill at the insinuation about John Winchester passing on the schizophrenia to him.

"Sam didn't get it from him." Dean repeated.

He sat down next to his mother, whose jaw was clenched. Dean could tell she was trying not to cry and he was reminded of how Castiel had looked moments ago. Dean knew he couldn't hurt these people anymore. He wouldn't be like his father. He wasn't like his father. Not knowing what else to do, he leaned in and pulled Mary into a hug. She shuddered against him and let out several shaky breaths.

"It's okay, Mom." He murmured, stroking her shoulder. "I'm sorry I freaked out. I promise, I won't do anything. I swear."

"I'm going to leave him this time. I have the papers. I don't why I love him so damn much, but this time, I'll leave him." She whispered, her voice breaking a little.

Dean glanced up at Sam, who currently looked like the frightened little boy he'd been the first time he'd seen their mother like this. His jaw was working in the same way as Mary's was. He sat down on the other side of her and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Since they were very young, it had often been like this, the two of them comforting their mother.

"Sammy, it's going to be okay. It'll be okay this time. We're in this together." He said, trying to be soothing, trying to keep the rage from bubbling back up to the surface. Mary, so clearly heartbroken, was keeping his rage down, but he knew he could resurface at any moment. He didn't know where Sam's mental illness came from, but Dean knew deep inside that he had inherited his father's temper.

I'm not like him. None of us are, genetics be damned.

Across the room, Castiel stood there, watching them with a strange look in his eyes. Dean remembered their conversation the day before about the Singer family. In a moment of strange clarity that almost made him laugh, Dean hoped like hell that this fucked up family scene wasn't making his boyfriend nostalgic for parents he'd never had.

After a few more of what Dean saw as false promises and a few more hugs from her sons, Mary went to bed, clearly rattled from a long night. As she ascended up the stairs, she apologized to Castiel for ruining his Christmas and promised, in a vacant voice, that they'd open gifts after dinner that night.

"I can't believe she's thinking about giving us presents after that." Dean said, once they were in the safety of the living room.

"Dean, she's our mom and you know her, she loves to give us gifts. Loves to keep up some semblance of normality. It's how she deals with me." Sam said wryly. Dry humor, acute self awareness, it's how his entire family dealt with these 'situations.'

"Right now, I'd say you're the sanest person in the Winchester family." Dean muttered. He no longer wanted to kill his father, but the rage that had overtaken him still quivered beneath the surface and he had to admit, it made him nervous.

Sam sighed and sat down next to him. He glanced at Castiel, who was sitting on the loveseat, looking like he was deep in thought.

"Cas, I am really sorry about all this." Sam said. "I guess you probably didn't expect this."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing. I brought him here." Dean interjected.

"I really don't mind." Castiel said, sounding a little too earnest. "Believe me, with what I grew up around, I learned that there is no such thing as a perfect American family."

Sam nodded a little. "But still."

"Your family is not perfect." Castiel said firmly. "But it's clear that the three of you love each other much. The way you comforted your mother, well, it was quite a sight for me. I still expect mothers to be the ones doing the coddling, not the other way around."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You're being surprisingly cool about this." He turned to Dean. "Hey man, can we keep him?"

Dean smirked, which surprised him, considering everything that had just happened. "I think we can. I quite like him, anyway."

Dinner that night was tense, Mary keeping her head down so the boys wouldn't see the black eye. Dinner was fraught with small talk and heavy silence, all of them trying to ignore the elephant in the room. Finally, she lifted her head, black eye and all, and spoke.

"Dean, tomorrow or at least before you leave on Wednesday, I'd like you to take me down to the police station." She said, her voice thick. She glanced at Castiel, her face etched with shame.

"Why?" Dean asked, knowing his voice sounded stupid. He knew why, but he couldn't believe she'd actually do it.

"I'm going to get a restraining order and I'm going to get a lawyer to force him to sign the papers." She muttered. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep holding onto something that was lost to me years ago. I talked to someone awhile ago who said he can push it through without John's cooperation."

Dean hadn't known this.

"Are you serious?" Sam asked. "Mom, are you serious this time?"

Apparently his brother hadn't either.

She nodded. "Yes."

Dean couldn't help it. He smiled. "That's great, mom."

"We can stay for a few days longer if you'd like Dean to be around during the beginning of this process." Castiel said, volunteering them for something Dean wasn't sure he wanted to do.

"No, you boys… you back to school. This is something I need to do myself."

Castiel cleared his throat. "Mary, I just wanted to tell you something. Earlier, you said you ruined my holidays. That's not true. You didn't. Not at all."

Mary smiled at him, a watery smile, but it was there. "Castiel, you're a sweetheart but you don't have to say that. I am so sorry this was your first impression of our family."

He shook his head. "I'm not being facetious. I'm serious. I've never really had a family. At least not when it counted. Being here in your home, getting to know you and Sam, it has been a joy. I was so nervous to meet you all, so nervous you'd think I was a freak, because well, I am, but you have made me feel so welcome."

Sam actually guffawed, almost a little too loudly. "You? A freak? Look who you're talking to, man. This family…"

Mary actually snorted a little bit too. Despite this, he continued.

"Your family is not perfect and everyone here is flawed, but the way you have taken me in during this time of year, and the way you've accepted me and Dean, the way you've been so open with me… well, it really has been amazing. I've seen the best of your family and the worst. When I say the worst, I must note that none of it came from you."

"We have a lot of problems." Mary said simply, smiling a little bit more. "Despite that, you are always welcome here, Castiel. I would never judge you, especially since you've made my Dean so happy. Seeing you two… seeing how healthy your relationship is… well, it was just the kick in the ass I needed to move forward."

Dean almost blurted out that less than a month ago, he'd threatened to kill Cas and then had proceeded to vomit on him, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Mom and I were talking about how we'd both like a normal, healthy relationship like the one you two have." Sam said. "Seriously, you two are disgusting, like an old married couple who still hold hands all of the time."

"I'm just happy that my relationship with Dean's father didn't skew or permanently affect the way Dean handles relationships." Mary said, sounding she was reading a psychology textbook.

"Mom, are you serious?" Dean asked. "Are you actually going to go through with it this time?"

She nodded slowly. "This time, I think I am. I'm going to call the Singers tomorrow. They've always been there for you and Sam, maybe they can help me through this as well."

As they cleared the dinner table, Dean thought about it. He actually believed her this time. When they exchanged gifts, small things, because the Winchesters no longer made a big deal about holidays, he hardly noticed because his mother divorcing John Winchester, on the grounds of Dean's healthy relationship, was probably the best gift he could ever receive.

The next day, Dean took his mother to the police station to get a temporary restraining order, which he hoped would turn into a permanent restraining order. He never thought he'd be so ecstatic to be doing something like this, but as he'd thought a million times since he'd arrived in Lawrence four days ago, the Winchesters weren't a normal family. This made him consider his last name for a minute and wondered if Mary would change her last name once the divorce went through. It seemed strange for him to think of himself, Sammy and his mom as "the Winchesters" when the man who bared their namesake hadn't really been part of the family in years.

Somehow, Mary had also gotten a lawyer to meet them at the police station, even though it was the day after Christmas. This made Dean feel more confident about the end of his marriage because Mary had obviously expedited the process, which meant she was taking it seriously.

"Who's your lawyer?" he asked quietly as he pulled his mother's car around the corner. He glanced at her. She looked nervous, sick, and somehow relieved, all at the same time.

"Victor Henriksen." She muttered. "You might remember him."

Dean remembered him, probably better than Mary did. When Sam had lost his marbles the first time, they had to get a court order to get him hospitalized (and thus stabilized) and Henriksen had acted on their behalf. He was tough, no-nonsense and had helped with Sam's case for basically nothing because Mary hadn't been around much then and Dean had no money. Dean liked and respected Henriksen and was glad he'd be helping his mother.

"He's a divorce lawyer?"

"No, but I went to him about six months ago to discuss the issue of John not signing the divorce papers. He said he could help, told me the first step was to get a restraining order. He likes our family, especially Sam, and once again, he's doing it for basically nothing. It doesn't matter if he's a divorce lawyer or not." She said, looking out the window, her voice far away.

"You went to him six months ago?" Dean asked, trying to keep the shock out of his voice.

"Yes. After what he did, I knew it was time. Or I thought I did." She said softly. She didn't elaborate on why and Dean was secretly glad, because he didn't feel like murdering anyone today.

They arrived at the police station and Mary got out slowly, as if she still was considering the decision. Dean reached over and took her hand. He was glad Sam hadn't come. He didn't need to see this. He wondered what the hell he and Castiel were doing alone at the house together. She squeezed his hand and they met Henriksen out front.

"Dean, Mary." He said warmly.

Dean smiled at him, although the sight of him almost made him ill to his stomach because this was the man that had gotten Sam institutionalized. Dean knew it had been for the best, but the memories were not. Mary looked up slowly and Dean couldn't help but notice how red her cheeks were. Henriksen was smiling until he saw her face.

"When did he do that to you?" He asked. Dean could hear the anger in his voice, even though the lawyer was clearly trying to keep it out of his voice.

Dean felt a little shocked at Henriksen's response. He figured that Henriksen saw things like this all the time, but he seemed personally affronted by Mary's black eye.

"Yesterday." She muttered. "Victor, that's why I'm here. I'm finally ready."

Victor nodded. "I'm glad."

It took an hour and a half to file a temporary restraining order. On the way home, Dean felt great relief, but his happiness was gone. As his mother had signed the papers, she had almost wept in front of him, Henriksen and the police. She whispered, more to herself than Dean, as they left the station I love him, but it's time. It was miserable for her and for Dean. He felt awful for her, because there was something about John Winchester that had kept her around for so many years, and he didn't know what it was. He was just glad it was finally almost over.

They arrived back at the house and Castiel and Sam were sitting in the living room, intensely discussing something. When they walked in, Sam rushed over and wrapped his mother in an enormous hug. Her floodgates finally broke and Dean and Castiel watched helplessly as she sobbed on her youngest son's shoulder. Dean glanced at Cas and nodded toward the stairs. Sam and Mary didn't say anything.

When they got into Dean's old room, Castiel reached over and took his hand.

"How was it?" He asked quietly.

"Awful." Dean said. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his temples. Castiel sat down next to him, his gaze ever curious. "She's heartbroken, Cas. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy that she's finally ending it, but I didn't really consider how hard it'd be for her."

"You're proud of her, though?"

"Yes, more than I can say. I just wish there was something I could do. Sam's always been there for her more than I have been, if you can believe it. The kid never judged her like I did. I think the only reason she asked me to go with her instead of him was because her lawyer is the guy who got him locked up the first time." Dean said.

Castiel crawled on the bed and sat behind him. He placed his hands over Dean's and rubbed his head, bending over and brushing his lips on his shoulder. Dean sighed and leaned against him.

"Let's go out." Castiel said. "We haven't really left this house except to go to Jo's place and I think you could use a break."

Dean nodded. "I think that sounds like a great idea."

The next few days in Lawrence passed quickly. Dean showed Castiel around Lawrence and they went out drinking with Ash and Jo, which ended up being hilarious and a welcome break from the admitted intensity of being at Mary's house. Castiel helped Sam with one of his writing assignments, since he was going back to community college in January. Mary kept up pretenses of being happy, even though Dean could tell she was miserable. December 30th rolled around quickly and Dean realized that, despite everything that had happened during his short and eventful time home that he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to be 2000 miles away from Sam or his mother. The visit hadn't been perfect, but it had been exactly what he needed.

They were standing in the foyer, bags packed up in the rental car, about to drive to the airport. Sam looked dejected at the prospect of their departure and Mary was crying, although it wasn't the gut wrenching sobs from a few days ago. She was genuinely sad to see him leaving. Dean felt the same way.

"I don't want to go." Dean said to his brother. "I could try to change the ticket, leave on the 2nd or something."

"No, Dean, that shit's expensive. You need to go back. Your life is there." He said, staring down at his feet.

"My life is here too." Dean said.

Mary wiped her eyes. "Sam's right, your lives are there. Just don't wait two years for your next visit, okay? Both of you."

Dean glanced at Cas when she said that and Castiel actually looked wrecked too. "Mom, I think you're gonna make Cas cry." He said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm not going to cry." Castiel said, glaring at him a little bit, while also blinking profusely.

"Honey, it was so wonderful to have you back home." She said. She grabbed him and wrapped him up in one of her hugs, the kind of hug that only your mom could give you. "I love you." She whispered into his ear.

"Call the Singers if it gets too hard." He whispered back. "Mom, I'm so proud of you."

He released her and went over to Sam. "Goddamnit Sammy." He said, blinking back a few tears of his own. "You take care of her, okay?"

Sam smiled. "So I'm allowed to do that now?"

Dean grabbed him too, giving hugs all around. "I'm going to miss you, little brother. You are fucking awesome, you hear? Keep up the good work and for God's sake, keep in touch and come visit me."

"I will, Dean. I promise. And thanks."

"For what?"

"For coming back. For finally seeing me for more than this disease. For trusting me to take care of mom."

"I love you, Sammy."

"You too, Dean."

Dean released his brother and he was halfway considering pulling Sam to the car and taking him with him back to Plainville. He couldn't though. Sam was right. His life was across the country and though Sam's life wasn't much yet, he was making one here.

They left Lawrence, flying across the country, back to Oregon and for once, this Dean wasn't running away from it all.