"Hey, Dad," Dean said softly as they drove across the Midwest in July, heading from Tennessee to California, Sam was curled under John's heavy leather jacket, a sweatshirt balled under his head as a pillow fast asleep. Dean had been listening to his little brother's soft snores for the last two hundred miles.

"What's up?" John yawned, it was getting toward the time of night here John usually started to look for motels off the highway.

"Does it bother you that the things we're hunting are people sometimes?" Dean asked shifting against the back of seat.

"They aren't people anymore," John said simply. "They might have been at one point, but now they're monsters, and monsters kill people. It's our job to make sure that they don't."

"But, like, that shifter that I shot," Dean mumbled. "He was, like, a dude. And we had a guy in the trunk of the car, like a dead body of a dude, and we lit him on fire in the woods."

"No," John corrected. "It wasn't a guy. He was a monster pretending to be a guy. A monster that had already killed twelve people."

"But he looked like a guy," Dean said.

"This is still bothering you?" John sighed. "It was months ago."

"I keep thinking about it," Dean shrugged. "And the demon in Knoxville, it was possessing a woman. She died because of us. She would still be alive if we weren't around."

"No," John shook his head. "The demon killed her. It killed her long before we got there. We saved her body from being used by the hell bitch. That girl wasn't in there anymore."

"But she would still be alive—"

"No, kiddo," John shook his head. "It's our job to rid the world of the bad things. If we don't, things like what happened to your mom will happen to other people. You don't want that right?"

"No sir," Dean answered. "It's never bothered you?"

"Maybe in the beginning," John answered. "But you get used to it."

"I'll get used to it," Dean said mostly to himself.

"You're still a kid," John said. "The life can take some getting used to. Maybe you weren't ready yet."

"No, sir," Dean said quickly. "I'm not a kid any more. I'm ready. I can do the job. I can. It's just… maybe I thought they would look like monsters, you know."

"You just gotta trust your gut," John nodded, taking the next exit off the highway. "Trust me when I tell you that something's a monster. You can't see the person part of the monster. They're evil, they all are. We're doing pest control, keeping everything in order. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Dean nodded as John pulled the car into the motel just off the highway. "I understand."

"Good," John said turning off the ignition. "Wake up your brother. I'm gonna go check us in."

Dean nodded and popped open his door. He'd never tell his dad, or Sam, or even Bobby, but he still saw that shape shifter in his sleep. He still heard his body hit the ground, still smelt the burning flesh and felt the heat radiating against him while he watched it burn. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to separate that part of it. What if that monster had a brother or a dad? What is they killed some monster's mom. Wouldn't that make the monsters want to come after them? He didn't know how to bring this part up to his father; he doubted his father would see it like that. To John it was always black and white, good or bad. Dean needed to learn to think that way or he'd never make his dad proud. He'd just have to hold the feelings of doing something wrong in until he could figure it out himself.

"How long are we gonna be stuck here?" Sam asked as they started to settle into a pre-furnished two bed room apartment in Northern California. "Are we at least going to start school here?"

"It depends," John shrugged, dropping his duffle bag on the kitchen floor. "Bobby's not even sure what we're dealing with up here, could be a spirit, skin walker, could be multiple creatures hitting the same area at once. Once I get a handle on it, I'll figure out what else is going on out here. Could be here two weeks, could be here two months."

"Think you'll need help with this one?" Dean asked eagerly.

"Not right now," John answered. "I'm gonna go gather some intel in town, see if I can figure out what's going on. I'll be back late, probably not back for dinner. You can fend for yourselves?"

The boys looked at each other than back to their dad and nodded.

"Yes, sir," Dean nodded. "Of course we can."

"Good," John nodded. "Landlord said that the cables hooked up, should be working. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"Yes, sir," Dean answered.

John nodded, turned on his heel and walked out the door, leaving the boys to their own devices.

"If Dad doesn't want your help it's really dangerous isn't it?" Sam asked right after the door closed.

"Or it's an easy one man job," Dean answered.

"Yeah, but you've been helping with everything all summer," Sam reasoned. "Even on the little dinky little hunts that I probably could have taken care of myself. So, this one has to be really big."

"I don't know, Sammy," Dean told him. "Dad hasn't said anything to be about it."

"It's Sam," Sam said letting himself fall over-dramatically into one of the kitchen chairs. He scanned the white washed apartment.

"Since when?" Dean chuckled.

"Since now," Sam answered. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"You'll always be a baby to me, Sammy."

"Whatever," Sam sighed. "If we have an apartment that means we're staying a while, right?"

"Usually," Dean answered, pushing himself up so he was sitting on the counter.

"So maybe I can make some friends over the summer," Sam said. "And have some friends over the school year."

"Maybe," Dean shrugged. "Might be a couple kids your age in this building, you never know."

"Do we even have money for food?" Sam huffed. "I'm starving."

"We had lunch an hour ago," Dean rolled his eyes. Sam stared at him with a serious look on his face. "I think I still have, like, forty bucks. But I'm not getting food now. We had lunch an hour ago."

"Can we walk to a grocery store and get some snacks?" Sam whined. "And find something for dinner? I'm hungry."

"You better start growing soon," Dean said, dropping off the counter. "You can't keep eating like you do and stay four foot and sixty pounds."

"I'm almost five feet tall, Dean," Sam scoffed rolling his eyes. "Uncle Bobby said I'm gonna be super tall one day. He can tell. Cuz Dad's tall and you're kinda tall."

"Sometimes Uncle Bobby says things to make you stop talking," Dean smirked. "Cuz ya kinda talk a lot, and it's annoying, but he's too nice to just tell you to shut up."

"You're a jerk," Sam said, glaring.

"You love me," Dean winked. "Come on, let's go explore."

There was a grocery store about half a block away from their apartment building. Dean figured Dad would probably want him to get a weekend job here since he couldn't go on this hunt with him. He figured it wouldn't hurt to at least pick up an application. He could always use the money. As much as he make fun of the kid for being short, Sammy was starting to shoot up. He was going to need new clothes again and lord knew Dad wasn't going to buy them. He'd talk it over with his dad when he got back from wherever he was in the morning.

"Go to the snack aisle," Dean instructed pushing a shopping cart at Sam. "Don't go crazy, I only got forty bucks. I'll meet you there in a minute."

"Right," Sam nodded.

Dean watched as his brother got a running start and jumped on the back of the cart and rode it toward the chip aisle. He chuckled to himself as he watched toward customer service. The girl behind the counter was soft spoken and pretty, she giggled as Dean approached, according to her nametag her name was Missy. Instead of answering when he asked for an application she blushed and giggled.

"Please?" Dean smiled.

She nodded and turned around, going through a folder of paper and returning with his application.

"Are you going to fill it out here?" she asked, pushing her hair dark hair behind her ear.

"Gotta pen?" Dean flashed a smile. He figured Sam would be fine for five minutes while he chatted up this girl. How much trouble could a twelve year old get into in a grocery store picking out snacks? He probably wouldn't even be done when Dean got over there anyway; kid didn't make decisions easily.

Dean walked away from customer service with a phone number and a possible date for Saturday night but when he got to the snack aisle, it was empty. No cart, no Sam, nothing.

"Not funny Sammy," Dean called. "Sam!"

There was no answer, not even the hushed giggle Dean was expecting, nothing. The supermarket wasn't exactly huge, but it was big enough to get lost in, which was exactly why Dean told Sam to stay in that aisle. He felt like he was having a heart attack. He'd lost track of Sam a few times over the years, in stores, he'd wondered off while walking home from school, or whatever, but every time it happened, when Dean couldn't see him, thoughts of the worst possible things flashed through Dean's thoughts. Obviously, Sam had been kidnapped, that was the only logically explanation to what happened to him. Someone stole his little brother.

"Sam!" Dean half yelled, not wanting to cause panic. "I told you to stay here, damn it." Dean checked the next aisle over on either side, no Sam, no abandoned carriage. "No cool, Sammy."

Before he started to freak out too much, Dean made his way back to Missy. He took a deep breath and winked at her.

"You're back," She smiled. "That didn't take long."

"Yeah," Dean smirked. "Um… I lost my brother."

"In the store?" Missy asked.

"Uh…yeah…" Dean nodded slowly, fighting the urge to shake her and ask where the hell else he would have lost Sam. "He was supposed to meet me in the chips, but he's not there and it's… you know… kinda a big store… so."

"You want me to page him to the service desk?" Missy smiled.

"That would be awesome," Dean smirked. "His name's Sam."

Dean paced in front of the desk after Missy made her page until Sam came riding up the aisle on the back of the cart toward him.

"What?" Sam said, like he didn't give his brother a heart attack.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean said threw gritted teeth grabbing Sam's arm.

"I was getting snacks," Sam said, trying to rip his arm away from Dean as he nodded to the cart. Inside the carriage there were yogurts and string cheese alongside bags of Funyuns and Cheetos. "You told me to get snacks."

"I told you to wait for me in the snack aisle," Dean twisted Sam's arm with one and hand grabbed the front of the cart with the other and walked down the main aisle of the store. "I thought you got kidnapped or something."

"Over dramatic much," Sam rolled his eyes. "Let go of me."

"You can't just wander off like that," Dean said. "You can't just disappear and do whatever you want. I'm supposed to be watching you."

"While you hit on anyone with boobs?" Sam sighed. "I'm not stupid I saw you and that girl."

"I was applying for a job, actually," Dean replied, nose flaring out. "I left you alone for less than five minutes. You couldn't stay in one spot?"

"I was getting snacks," Sam defended. "Just like you told me too. I didn't know how long you'd be tryin' to look down that girl's top, so I figured I'd get as much done as I could."

"Whatever," Dean shook his head. "Let's just get something for dinner, some frozen pizzas or something."

"Fine," Sam grabbed the cart and pushed it ahead of Dean, jumping on the back and riding it down the aisle.

Sam was teaching himself Latin that summer out of an old book Bobby had giving him for his birthday. John said it would probably be a very useful skill in the future and Dean should probably learn it too, but Dean had absolutely no interest in learning Latin. A few of the schools he'd been to required Spanish and by the absolute disaster that had been, he didn't want to even think about what having his little brother trying to teach him Latin would be like.

Instead, Dean would lay on his bed the nights that their dad wasn't around, watching Sam read and absorb the old book while half reading The Lord of the Rings books his brother had gotten him from Christmas. He was about a quarter of the way through the third one, which meant it was probably the fastest he'd ever read three books in a row in his life. Part of him wished he like to learn like Sam did, but the same part knew that he'd never need any of the stuff that Sam liked to learn about. He just didn't care about school stuff. All he needed to know he'd learn in the field shoulder to shoulder with his dad. Hopefully, his dad would let him go on bigger more dangerous hunts. That's all he wanted really, to be taken seriously as a hunter.

They stay in Northern California until the beginning of October then slid across the country spending two weeks in one town, a month in another, never being about to get into a routine. Dean could see it wearing on Sam. As much as he understood why they had to live the way they did, he could also see why Sam had such a hard time with it.

"I know it sucks," Dean whispered into the darkness of a weekend motel room somewhere between Georgia and Wyoming. "I know you're awake, dude, I can heard you sniffling."

"I had a friend," Sam mumbled. "We were going to be best friends."

"I'm sorry," Dean replied. "You know you can't get attached like that."

"But I want to," Sam sighed rolling over to face Dean. "I want to get attached to people. I want to see the same people every day for the rest of my life."

"That sounds really boring, Sammy," Dean yawned.

"No, Dean," Sam answered. "It sounds normal. You think if mom was here we'd be living my nomads?"

"I think we'd be living in Lawrence," Dean answered truthfully. "We'd probably still be in that house, maybe even have a little sister or something."

"A little sister?" Dean could hear Sam rolling his eyes.

"Why not?" Dean shrugged. "It could have happened."

"You want a sister?" Sam asked.

"Not really," Dean replied. "I didn't really want you either, but I didn't get a say in the matter. I tried to trade for a Transformer when you were, like, two months old."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Dean chuckled. "I think it was the only time I saw mom get mad. She was not impressed."

"Why doesn't Dad ever talk about her?" Sam said softly, like John was listening, even though he'd left several hours ago and Dean figured he would be back until way after midnight, smelling of cigarette smoke and stale beer.

"I don't know," Dean said.

"Why don't you ever talk about her?"

"I don't remember much," Dean said. "I mean, I was four. What do you remember from when you were four?"

"Is that when Dad lost my stuffed cow?"

"I think I was in second grade," Dean thought aloud. "You were three or four yeah."

"I remember Cow," Sam said thoughtfully. "We had some good times."

"It was sticky and you used to shove it against my face all the time," Dean scoffed. "And when I tried to wash you would cry so it never got washed. It was just covered with three and half years of snot and food and grossness."

"I think you're just jealous cuz I liked Cow more than you," Sam giggled. "I think you and Dad cooked up an evil plot to forget to pack my most prized possession because you wanted my best friend and not a stuffed animal."

"You caught me," Dean rolled his eyes. "Conspiracy to ruin your little life by taking away your comfort animal so I had to listen to you cry and whine every night for a week about how you couldn't sleep without the stupid thing."

Sam let out an honest laugh. Dean loved it when Sam did that, just laughed like a kid should, he didn't do it near often enough.

"For what it's worth, Sammy," Dean said once the laughter died down. "I wish you had a normal life too. I wish there was something I could do to fix it."

"It's not your job to fix everything," Sam sighed, rolling over to face the wall again, like he was getting ready to sleep. "You're not my parent, Dad is."

Dean lay in the darkness, listening to his brother slowly fall asleep. He knew that it wasn't going to come to him easily, like it never did when their dad wasn't home. He'd probably still be awake when he stumbled in, just pretending, eyes squeezed shut. More often than he liked to think he wondered about normalcy, the kind that Sam was so verbal about wanting. It wasn't that he didn't like the life he had, he loved it, it was just watching Sam struggle, watching his dad struggle with everyday life, hurt. And a normal life, a normal life would fix it all.