Sam turned fifteen in a trailer park in Flagstaff, Arizona. Dean wanted to make his brother's birthday memorable; the kid hadn't had one of those in a long time. When he'd got off work, he'd done a quick grocery run, getting cake and ice cream, he decided he'd let Sam pick what he wanted to have for dinner. He'd take him out if he wanted to go, maybe they'd see a movie, go to the pool hall down town, whatever Sam wanted to do. He wasn't sure if their dad would be home or not. He'd been in California for a week chasing something he didn't feel like he needed to explain before hopping in his new truck and taking off.

John had finally given Dean the keys to the Impala when he'd recovered fully from the injuries he'd gotten in Amherst; whether it was out of guilt or John felt like Dean actual deserved, well, to be honest, Dean felt like it was more the former. He couldn't help but see the look of guilt that still plagued John's eyes whenever Dean talked to him, as if John had thrown him over that railing himself. To Dean, though, that was just an accident, a hazard of the job he wanted more than to do and do well.

When he got home, his dad truck was parked next to the Impala. John was in the living room with a half empty beer balancing on his knee while he watched television, Sam was barricaded in their room, reading.

"We got cake," Dean announced, dropping down onto his bed.

"Why?" Sam moaned, dramatically lowering his book and glaring at this brother.

"It's your birthday?" Dean answered.

"Yeah," Sam shrugged. "So?"

"You get cake on your birthday? It's what people do." Dean replied. "Why you being such a freak?"

"I'm not," Sam said. "I just figured Dad was too busy to care what day it was. It's not like he's ever given a shit before."

"I bought you the cake," Dean said. "Because I figured you'd want to celebrate. I can take ya out to dinner or something, whatever you want."

"We bringing dad?" Sam asked.

"Not if you don't want to," Dean shrugged. "I'll tell him we had plans for a while if you want me to. There's kinda fancy soup and sandwich places that you like downtown and this, like, family run Italian joint that we've ordered lunch from at the shop a few times that's pretty decent. Pool hall/bowling alley I hear a lot of kids your age hang out at. We can check it out if you want, make a little money."

"Dad's not gonna get pissed is he?" Sam looked over at Dean through his bangs.

"He's in his post hunt buzz," Dean replied. "Probably isn't up to goin' out tonight. It'll be just the two of us."

"Yeah, okay," Sam nodded. "I just wanna finish this chapter first. Give me, like, an hour, then we'll go out."

"Sounds good," Dean smiled, standing up. He crossed the room and ruffled Sam's messy hair. "Let me know when your ready kiddo."

"Where the fuck are two of you are off to?" John slurred while the boys got ready to leave about an hour later.

"I need stuff for a project," Sam lied. "Dean's taking me into town to buy it."

"You need money for that kind of shit?" John turned and in the process kicked over a couple of the empties that had accumulated in front of him.

"I got it covered, Dad," Dean replied, pushing Sam toward the door. "We'll be back in a few hours, alright?" He followed Sam out and walked to the car.

"You do realize he has a problem right?" Sam asked as they slid into the Impala.

"He has a hard job," Dean shrugged.

"A lot of people do," Sam shook his head. "Not everyone drinks that much. It's not normal."

"Yeah, well," Dean replied revving the engine. "You go and live the life he has. You'd probably drink a twelve pack a night too."

They drove in silence toward town; Dean noticed for the first time that Sam's knees were getting too close to the glove box, even when he wasn't slouching. They were almost the same height now. Not that Dean hadn't noticed since he was the one in charge of making sure Sam had clothes that fit him, taking him to the store when Sam started digging through the wrong duffle bag for jeans, but knowing it, and acknowledging that his little brother was almost an adult were two different things.

"So…" Dean started; trying to flush out the awkward that had filled the car. "You got a girlfriend or anything? I feel like I never see you anymore between work and your weird schedule with all your extracurricular activities."

"Not really," Sam answered. "Just a group of friends at school. They want me to join the drama club with them next year, but I know we won't be around that long, but I don't want to flat out say no. There's a girl in my biology class that's, like, Dean, she's like, so pretty."

"Girl got a name?" Dean pressed.

"Weirdest thing," Dean could hear the smirk in Sam's voice as the spoke. "Her parents decided when she was born that they weren't going to give her a name, so she's the only person in the world who don't got one. Makes school work kind of hard, because she can't write her name on the top of the paper, so she gets points taken off sometimes. And teachers have to call her No Name. It's a rough life, luckily, though, she's super-hot."

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Funny."

"Her name's Tiffany," Sam answered. "Tiffany Phillips."

"She got a sister?" Dean asked, half joking.

"I don't know," Sam said seriously. "I don't actually talk to her. She's like popular and stuff."

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm the weird new kid," Sam explained. "I sit with the other weird kids and the nerds across the lunch room. I answer questions in class; girls like her file their nails and don't pay attention. Girls like Tiffany don't talk to guys like me. I'm not you. I mean, I can't just smile at them and girls take their underwear off."

"That has never happened," Dean chuckled.

"Whatever, Tiffany wouldn't go for a guy like me. I'm not her type."

"You don't know what until you try, right?" Dean asked. "Just suck it up and say hi."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, okay, sure, Dean I'll just go up and talk to her. That's awesome advice."

"I'm really confused Sam," Dean said. "I've see you take down Dad sparring a couple times. You killed that kitsune in Nebraska last month. It's not like your shy or something. You talk to people all the time. It's just a girl, no big deal."

"It's not just a girl," Sam clarified. "She's a cheerleader and popular and she was on the Homecoming Court, as a freshman. Do you realize how impossible that is? It's, like, unheard of. I can't just go up to her. She probably has, like, a body guard to keep freaks like me away."

"Does she have a boyfriend?" Dean asked.

"No, she went through this big break up right after we moved here," Sam said. "It was a pretty big deal."

"So ask her out," Dean replied. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"She could say no," Sam answered. "She could humiliate me in front of the whole school. We'd have to move, but something like that would probably follow me to next town. It could ruin my life, Dean."

"But she could say yes," Dean said as they pulled into the parking lot of the little Italian place. "You don't have to be so over dramatic about everything, little man. You never know until you try. This old boyfriend was probably a hardcore, bone headed jock, right? Maybe she's looking for a change. Maybe a little geek is exactly what she's looking for right now."

Sam thought about as they walked into the restaurant and waited to be seated.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"If you don't ask, Sammy," Dean smiled. "You'll never know."

Dinner when smoothly, they laughed and talked about Sam's school and Dean's job at the auto shop when he wasn't out with John hunting, overall a pretty nice night as far as they were concerned. They didn't get nights like that very often, Dean wanted to make the most out of having Sam relaxed and not yelling at something. Sam always seemed so angry lately. It had gotten worse since Dean got hurt, Sam seemed to have this cloud of rage that followed him everywhere. Dean understood that being a teenager wasn't easy, he was in rough spot when he was fifteen, he understood that. Living the way they did was hard enough without trying to figure out who you were as a person. Sam could handle it. Dean knew that, he just wasn't sure if Sam understood that eventually high school was over, and it would get better.

They drove to the bowling alley down the road. It being Saturday it was pretty packed with high school kids.

"Anybody here you know?" Dean asked as he surveyed the scene.

"Yeah," Sam shrugged. "A couple of my friends are here."

"If you'd rather go off with them," Dean said. "I wouldn't be upset. It's your day."

"They didn't invite me," Sam mumbled. "Probably don't want to hang out with me."

"Dude," Dean rolled his eyes. "Go say hi, it won't kill you." He grabbed Sam by the shoulders and spun him around then pushed him in the general direction of kids that looked about Sam's age. "Seriously, take a chance every now and then, kid."

Dean sauntered over the bar area behind the pool tables, he still has the fake id that Olivia and Maggie had given him, for the most part, still worked. He ordered himself a beer and sat down at a little table overlooking the bowling alley so he could keep an eye on Sam.

"Is someone sitting here?" a petite raven haired girl asked Dean, pointing at the chair opposite him.

"No you can take it," Dean said, turning back to crowd. Sam, it appeared, had been added to their game as he was in line to get a pair of bowling shoes. Dean half waved and smiled when Sam looked up to him. He turned to see the girl sitting down across from him. "Can I help you with something?"

"You looked lonely," she smiled.

"You look about twelve," Dean turned away, taking a long drink from his plastic cup. He watched as Sam started to make his way over to him.

"I'm sixteen," she corrected.

"That's great," Dean looked at him side eyed and shook his head. "I'm glad you can drive. What do you do want from me?"

"You don't have to be a dick," the girl huffed.

"Hey… umm… can I have, like ten bucks?" Sam asked.

Dean turned to his brother as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.

"You know him?" the girl asked. Neither boy was sure which one of them she was speaking to.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "He's my brother."

"Really?" the girl looked back and forth between them. "Neat."

"Yeah…" Dean pressed his eyebrows together.

"Why is she sitting with you?" Sam hissed as he stepped closer to Dean so he could whisper.

"She asked if the seat was taken," Dean replied. "I told her she could take it, I thought she needed another chair for her friends and then she sat down. I didn't invite her over. I'm not into middle schoolers."

"She's not a middle schooler," Sam replied. "She's a sophomore."

"Awesome," Dean shrugged. "Who is she?"

Sam turned a deep shade of red and stood up and started to back away. "Thanks…. For the money… Dean… I'll… um… yeah, I'm gonna go bowl… and stuff."

"Sam!" Dean called after him; then turned to the girl. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name's Tiffany," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

"Of course it is," Dean sighed.

"Your brother must have mentioned me," she pushed her hair over her shoulder and batted her eyes. "Everyone knows me at school."

"That's great," Dean said, turning to look for Sam in the crowd. He was back with his friends. It looked like he was having a good time from Dean's point of view.

"So, Sam's your brother?" Tiffany asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. He wanted to flat out ignore her, but he knew that would be a little bit too rude. "Have been his whole life."

"That's funny," Tiffany smiled. "Sam's in my biology class, he's pretty smart."

"Yeah he is," Dean nodded. "Little genius."

"He did this diagram of glucose cell," Tiffany continued. "It was the best in the class. He must have worked really hard on it."

Dean nodded, he remember that project, Sam had done it in Wyoming in October and kept it because he was so proud of how it came out just in case he got assigned the same project again.

"He's really nice too," Tiffany continued. "Holds doors and stuff. Not a lotta boys at school do that."

"You got the hots for him or something," Dean sighed.

"No," Tiffany scoffed. "He's a freshman, and a nerd, totally not my type at all."

"Okay," Dean nodded. He was trying not to engage, but this girl just won't stop talking.

"I'm into that hard-core, leather jacket, bad boys type," Tiffany started to lean over the table. "Older guys, you know what I mean?"

"I'm not interested in twelve year olds," Dean replied.

"I'm sixteen," Tiffany emphasized.

"As far as I'm concerned," Dean turned to here and smiled. "Y'all twelve til you turn eighteen. Sorry, babe."

"Right cuz you're so much older than me," Tiffany glared. "What are you doing watching a bunch of high schools bowl if you're too good for it?"

Dean turned to her, looking her right in the eye as he spoke. "I don't mess with high school girls. Especially the one my brother likes. So go bat your eyes at someone else sweetheart. I'm not interested."

"Sam likes me?" Tiffany whispered.

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "He really does."

"You're not just saying that to get me to leave alone?" Tiffany asked softly.

"No," Dean answered. "But I would really like it if ya did."

"Can I stay here until Sam comes back?" Tiffany replied.

"Do whatever you want," Dean answered. "If Sam comes back up here, tell him I hit the pool tables."

Sam found him a few hours later, Dean had a couple hundred bucks more than he'd started with lining his wallet, grinning like a Cheshire as he collected his dues from people who weren't used to losing.

"Hey," Sam said punching Dean in the arm. "My friend, Greg, wants me to go to a party. Can I go?"

"What kind of party?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam replied. "A party, party I guess. It's at Alex O'Donnell's house."

"Who is that?"

"I don't really know," Sam said honestly. "He just said that a bunch of people were gonna be there and I should go."

"Is Tiffany going?" Dean nodded toward the food area.

"I don't know," Sam mumbled.

"If you invite her," Dean smirked. "I'll drive you there. I'll even throw in a sixer."

It looked like Sam's entire body flushed he turned to the food area, Tiffany was visible sitting where Dean left her, observing what was going on around her.

"All you gotta do is ask her if she wants to go," Dean said. "And you can go. If you don't, you can tell your friends your brother is a big jerk that won't let you do nothin' fun."

"Just gotta ask her," Sam nodded.

"Just gotta ask her a simple question," Dean smiled.

"I can do that," Sam nodded. "I can do that."

Dean watched Sam take several deep breathes before taking a step forward. He leaned back against the pool table as Sam, red blotches visible from where Dean stood all over his neck and chest, as he spoke to the girl. Dean was proud of him. That little kid he taught to tie his shoes all grown up and talking to girls. There was part of Dean that wanted to keep Sam little forever, wanted him to still be the five year old that cried at thunder storms, still needed Dean to cut up his dinner before he ate it, but a bigger part of him was happy that Sam didn't need that anymore. Sam eased into the conversation, laughed and smiled with this girl. Dean couldn't help but grin as the two walked toward him and Sam gave a big thumbs up behind her back.

"Either of you know where this kid lives?" Dean asked when they reach him.

"Yeah," Tiffany nodded. "I do, he had parties all the time."

"Awesome," Dean nodded before following the two outside. He let Tiffany into the back seat, then pulled Sam to the trunk of the car. "I know this is your first real date, but here." Dean pressed the condom from his wallet into Sam's hand. "Just in case."

"That's not gonna happen," Sam chuckled trying to hand it back.

"Dude," Dean said seriously. "Stick it in your wallet, you never know."

"Yeah, I do," Sam shook his head.

"Sammy," Dean placed a hand on each side of his little brother's face. "I'm tellin' ya, right now, just hold on it. You don't need any accidents. It doesn't seem like a possibility, but trust me, kid, it's better to have it than not to, okay."

Sam nodded, pulled out his own wallet and tucked it inside.

"Let's go," Dean said, tapping Sam twice on the shoulder. "I'll get ya that sixer than we'll head to this kids house."

"Yeah, cool," Sam nodded.

"You call me when you wanna leave," Dean said over the roof of the car as they made their way to the doors. "Have fun, just don't do anything stupid, and call me."

"You can come with, you know," Sam said, hand on the door handle.

"High school parties loose there appeal when you're not in high school," Dean shook his head.

"You'd still be a senior if you didn't drop out," Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, but it gets a little creepy when a drop out still hangs out with high schoolers. Let's go, before your girlfriend thinks we're talking about her."

Sam rolled his eyes as he popped the car door and slid inside.

Dean spent the night cruising around town, stopping into a couple dive bars and lined his pockets waiting for that phone call. He knew that going home without Sam would lead to questions he didn't want to answer from his dad. John wasn't too thrilled about Dean going to parties now, he'd throw a fit he knew Dean let Sam go to one. He planned how he was going to get a buzzed Sam back into their bedroom. Hopefully, Dad was passed out from his latest round with Jose that would make it a lot easier.

When Sam did call, he was tight lipped about what happened, but had an all telling smirk on his face.

"You gotta give me something," Dean pushed. "Come on Sammy, I always share with you."

Sam pressed his forehead to the window. "I'm not saying nothing."

"I'm good at torture," Dean said. "You'd really make me resort to that?"

"I don't kiss an' tell," Sam giggled.

"How many beers you have?" Dean tried to change the line of question to get the answers he wanted.

"Two," Sam nodded.

"You're a girl," Dean stated. "Seriously, dude."

"How much did you drink the first time you went out?"

"A lot," Dean chuckled. "Like, they had to call Dad to come remove me from this girl's backyard because I puked over her railing and possibly on someone, but I don't really remember."

"You weren't afraid of ending up like Dad?" Sam pressed his head against the head rest and turned toward Dean. "I was afraid of drinking too much and ending up like Dad."

"Dad's, Sam, Dad's fine," Dean sighed. "Drinking one night at one party isn't going to make you go have a drink every night. You need to give him a break. He's doing the best he can."

"I know," Sam nodded. "He just drinks a lot. I don't want to be like that. A couple of the people at the party got like that, really, really drunk. I didn't want to be like that."

"Good," Dean replied. "That's good. You're responsible. I still wanna what happened with that girl.""

"Honestly," Sam sighed. "Nothin'. Not a damn thing. I mean, we hung out for a little bit at first, but then she started doing shots, and I didn't want to,and she was hangin' on me and I didn't really like it. So I hung out with my friends instead."

"You had fun though?" Dean asked.

"I did," Sam nodded. "I learned how to play beer pong. That was pretty fun."

They pulled into the driveway and Dean cut the engine. "If all goes right, Dad'll be asleep. If he's not, don't talk to him, just go to bed or he'll kill both of us, you got it?"

Sam nodded and popped the door open.

They snuck in, and went to bed, careful to keep their sleeping father sleeping. Dean stared at the ceiling listening to Sam fall asleep; his responsible baby brother, so different from himself. He wondered how much of their mother was in Sam. If Sam was more like her that he was. If she was the patient one, the one that could look at a situation and tell that it was probably a bad idea. She probably was, Sam was probably just like her. Some days Dean really missed her, milestone days like this was when it was the worst. He wished his mom was there to watch Sam blow out candles and gush about a girl. He liked to imagine how she smiled, tried to remember her laugh.

He turned onto his side and looked at Sam. "Happy birthday Little Buddy," Dean whispered into the darkness before closing his eyes and letting himself fall into a dreamless sleep.