Chapter 2:

It had been three weeks, and John still wasn't home. Sam didn't mind much, he was enjoying spending time with his brother, but now Dean was starting to get antsy.

"How is dad still not home?" Dean asked, more to himself then to Sam.

"You know Dad Dean, he said he would be two weeks, doesn't mean its true."

Sam stood from the couch, his ribs still aches, but they were getting better. He was training again, slower than usual, but training nonetheless.

"I'm gonna go for a jog, didn't go this morning."

"Why didn't you go this morning?"

"Tired, slept in late."

Sam went into the bedroom he shared with Dean, so he could change into some sweats. It was too hot to be wearing a sweatshirt, but he really didn't have a choice. The cuts on his arm had faded, but they were still noticeable against his pale skin, and when you have an older brother who has catalogued every injury you have had since birth, he would notice the two purplish scratches.

It was also weird to think that 2 weeks ago, he changed in front of Dean all the time. They were teenaged brothers who had shared a room for most of their lives, it was nothing they hadn't seen before. He didn't realize how hard it would be to hide them, yet looking down at the scars he frowned. It had made him feel better, but now that he felt like himself again he assumed he would never have to do that again.

Dean came in and flopped on his bed pulling Sam from his thoughts.

"Isn't a little hot for the sweatshirt Sammy?"

"Maybe I just like to sweat."

"You are weird. I knew that time I dropped you on your head as a baby would come back to bite me."

Sam glared at his brother.

"Hey, it was only once, but it could be the reason you are so strange, and boring, and do not know how to have any fun."

Sam threw a pillow at his brother and Dean smiled.

"Don't be too long."

"Give me 2 hours before you send out the search parties."

Sam left the motel and decided to jog through the park, he needed some new scenery. He was feeling good, and decided to push it an extra mile then he had been doing, by the time he got home he was regretting it. His ribs were aching from the run and from his heavy breathing. It wasn't anything life or death, it was just annoying.

He walked into the apartment and Dean was making dinner. Dean looked him and then tapped his watch.

"1 hour and 52 minutes. Cutting it pretty close there Sam."

Sam flipped Dean off, and Dean let out a laugh. Sam walked to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water then shifted his body weight trying to make his side feel better. Of course, Dean noticed.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I just pushed too hard, I'll be fine."

"Take some Tylenol, and lay down."

"It's fine Dean, I am just gonna sit on the couch."

Dean frowned and took some Tylenol out of a bottle on the counter.

"Take this."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Okay, Daddy."

Sam turned and walked away; he felt a slap on the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"There, now you can take it for your head, and if you call me Daddy ever again, you are gonna need a shit ton of morphine because I will put you in a full body cast."

Dean smiled, and turned back to the kitchen. Sam lounged on the couch, reading a worn out copy of The Outsiders that he had managed to keep through all of the moving they had done over the last few years. He loved that book. He often wondered what it would be like to have a group of friends like that, ones that would fight and die for you. He had his family, but they were blood. They were supposed to fight for you; it doesn't mean they want to. What could make a group of people come together, and want to fight for your life? Sam read until Dean called him over to eat. Sam and Dean were just finishing dinner when their dad walked in.

"Welcome back Dad. Everything go okay?"

Dean wasn't going mention the fact he was a week late, and neither was Sam. That was not a fight worth having.

"Was fine Dean. Vampire nest. Caleb and Bobby helped me out."

He took an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Sam.

"This was in the P.O box when I got home, it's from your school. Anything you want to tell me?"

"It's just my midterm Dad." Sam said.

"How are your grades?"

"I'm passing Dad, not gonna attract any attention."

"Good. I am going to go shower then hit the sack. I haven't slept much lately, Friggin' vampires."

John walked toward the bathroom, Sam looked at the envelope in his lap. He would look at it later. If his dad didn't care why should he? He cleared their dishes off the table and put them in the sink to wash them.

Dean stood up like he was going to leave but then turned the chair around and straddled it watching Sam in the kitchen. Sam looked over at his brother, but Dean said nothing.

"You are kinda creeping me out Dean. What do you want?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at Sam with the look he usually gave Sam when he was in trouble.

"I am just curious as to why Sam, geek boy extraordinaire isn't reading over his grades a million times."

Sam didn't have an answer so he shrugged, and went back to doing the dishes. He whipped around when he heard paper ripping. Dean was opening the envelope.

"Dean give that back."

"Why Sam? You have never been worried about me seeing your report cards before. Hell, when you were younger we used to stick them on the fridge."

"Well, maybe I am not ten years old anymore, and maybe my grades are none of your goddamn business."

Sam made a grab for the paper, but he knew this wasn't a fight he was going to win. Dean took his mid term out of the envelope and looked at Sam's grades. By the look on Dean's face, he was not impressed.

"What the hell is this Sam?"

"Those are passing grades."

"So what? You are better then this, I mean, you have like a what? A 60 average?"

"58 average, actually." Sam looked at his brother.

Dean actually seemed pained by this. Sam turned back to the sink and kept washing the dishes.

"What makes you think this is okay Sam?"

"Well, I am not failing out of school, doing less homework means I can do more research, and help out on hunts more, and it keeps Dad off my back. I'm passing, that's good enough by Dad's standards."

"Yeah well, it's not okay by mine Sammy. You can do better then this. And you will do better then this."

Sam slammed the glass he was holding so hard it shattered in his hand.

"I can't please everyone Dean. Lets face it. My grades don't mean shit in our world, I stay in school to keep CPS off our ass, and as soon as I turn sixteen Dad's gonna tell me to go get my GED so he can stop staying in towns long enough for me to go to school. Then we are gonna hunt until we all get maimed and one of us ends up dead."

"This isn't you talking Sammy…"

"You're right, its Sam talking. I had to grow up eventually. I am so sick, of trying to balance worlds Dean. I can't. Just let this go, I am going to bed."

"Okay Sam, go to bed, but this isn't over. I am not accepting this."

Sam walked back to his room and sat on his bed. His heart literally hurt right now, he was confused. When he fought with his dad, Dean was never on his side. Now that he was doing what his Dad wanted, Dean was mad at him. He felt like he couldn't do anything right.

His hands were shaking with anger, and he needed to get it out. Then he remembered, he knew how to make this better. He went over to Deans bag, and opened up the shaving kit, and took out a razorblade from the bag and sat down in front of the door, he didn't need Dean to walk in on this. Sam took the blade down to his arm and made two more straight cuts. He didn't feel any better. Sam zoned out and cut himself again, and again, and again. By the time he stopped he had tears running down his face, and his arm was dripping blood. He had done more damage this time, they weren't that deep, there was just a lot of them. He grabbed a black t-shirt from the floor and covered his arm with it, soaking up the blood right through the fabric. He took a deep breath, and felt calm again. He lifted himself off the floor, pulled down his sleeve and fell into a deep sleep.

Dean woke him up in the middle of the night, and sat on the end of Sam's bed.

"You know, I was thinking earlier about when you were little, you were always asking questions, you wanted to know everything about everything. You're favourite question was why." Dean smiled, and then it faltered a bit. "You're your favourite answer for a long time was "cause Dean says so." Look Sam, I know that can't be the answer I give you anymore, I think I've known that since you found out about the monsters in the dark. You aren't a kid, and I can't treat you like one. So I am just gonna tell you the truth."

Sam looked at his brother.

"What truth is that Dean?"

"You're right Sam, with this family, there is no other way. We are gonna fight these creatures in the dark until the end of our lives. It isn't fair, and I am sorry that you have that weight on you. But I also know something else. If you don't want this, I won't keep you here. Hell, if you don't want this I want you to leave."

"That doesn't make any sense Dean. I can't leave and stay at the same time."

"You're right you can't. So when the time comes, I am gonna get you outta here."

"Dean, you're telling me that if I go, I'm gonna lose my family, I don't know anything else. "

"Sam, I can't guarantee what Dad is gonna do, and I can't even guarantee that we are ever gonna see each other again, because this life does terrible things to people. I know me and Dad aren't exactly gonna die of old age."

Sam looked down and choked back his tears.

"Can you guarantee anything Dean?"

Dean looked at his brother and smiled, but his eyes stayed sad.

"I can guarantee two things Sammy. One, no matter what you choose to do with your life, you are gonna do great. And no matter what you do, or how far we are from each other, I promise that I will always be your brother. That's all I got kiddo."

"Okay, Dean."

"Sam, if you don't want to get straight A's and nerd out constantly I can understand that, but you gotta do better then this. I know you have dreams outside of this life, and I accept that. But you won't get anywhere pulling this crap. I mean look at me, this is all I am built for, I can't leave now."

"What about Dad?"

"Dad is gonna fight you every step of the way, you just have to decide if it is worth it or not."

Sam smiled.

"I'll fix this Dean, I promise."

"That's good to hear little brother. So since we are already in the middle of a giant chick flick moment, is there anything else we need to talk about?"

Sam pushed on his arm and thought about telling Dean his secret for a minute. But he wasn't ready, he found something that made him feel better. He still needed that.

"No Dean, I'm good. Thanks."

"Okay, I'm gonna hit the sac. Good night Sam."

"Night."

Sam did what he promised, he got his grades up, and Dean was relieved to see his little brother coming back. Of course Sam still cut. It was his stress reliever whenever he had a hard exam, or a hunt went bad. The scars were getting harder and harder to hide, the older ones were turning white, and weren't fading; he hadn't realized they had been so deep. But he couldn't stop, he never felt as calm as he did, right after he drained some blood from his wrist. It was euphoric and Sam figured if he kept it hidden, it wouldn't hurt anybody. So he did, he kept it hidden for months. Then right after his 16th birthday, he realized he couldn't keep his secret hidden forever.