See yall in a month!

On with the show!

Wake up. Take your meds. Go to work. Come home. Take more meds. Go to sleep.

Sam had a bit of an epiphany that night. He was done overthinking things and wondered what else he could do to speed up the grieving process.

Wake up. Take your meds. Go to work. Come home. Take more meds. Go to sleep.

The police called the landline, leaving a message for a callback. There were no leads in Jess' murder investigation and her parents were fighting to keep her case open. They wanted to know if Sam had anything for them. He had nothing.

Wake up. Take your meds. Go to work. Call your therapist. Take more meds. Go to sleep.

John offered to take him to work that day. The boys avoided each other for as long as they could. John wanted to lock them both in a closet until they either made up or killed each other. Mary offered an alternative; inviting Dean over for tea and talking it out. They both begged their parents for neither route so a compromise was made: they both return to the auto shop and work it out together themselves.

Dean was leaning over the front counter, scribbling things down in a folder. Sam expected him to still be pissed, but Dean's face remained neutral. Sam scrambled out of the car, remembering to grab the Tupperware container he brought with him.

"Dean." John greeted, throwing open the door to the shop. "Got something for me?"

Dean finished scribbling his notes, closing the folder, and sliding it across the counter. "Here. Copies of all the reports for the month."

John nodded in contentment, picking up the folder and sliding it under his arm. He gestured back and forth between his sons. "You two gonna be alright?"

Sam wanted nothing more than to disappear at that moment.

"We'll be fine."

Sam's head perked up, looking immediately at his brother, who was absentmindedly clicking away at something on the computer.

John grunted in response, clapping his hand on Sam's shoulder as he walked out the door. Sam looked over his shoulder to see his dad start the car and drive away.

"What's in the box?"

Sam looked back over. Dean continued to mess around on the computer. Sam walked over to the counter and set the Tupperware down. "An olive branch," he said innocently.

Dean rolled his eyes at his little brother trying to be cute. He popped the lid off and snorted. "Cookies? You fucking made Mom bake cookies?"

"Wh- I made them!" Sam cried out. "She just... helped me a little."

"Yeah, right. Did she let you lick the spoon too?"

Sam couldn't help but smile at the little tease. "I mean, if you don't want them..." He reached out to take the Tupperware back. Dean playfully smacked his hand away and snatched the Tupperware back.

"My cookies."

Sam snorted. He started to make his way towards the staff room, turning sharply in the doorway.

"Dean-"

"Sam-"

A pause, both of them waiting for the other to speak first. Dean rapt his knuckles on the counter and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I blew up like that."

Sam shrugged. "I'm sorry I cried on your birthday."

And that was it. A mutual understanding. Neither of them needed to say anything else.

Dean was on his back under a Honda doing his millionth oil change. The other mechanic was out on his lunch break so it was just Dean, humming along to the radio in the corner as he worked.

"It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the-" someone kicked his boot, "Hey!"

"Mrs. Williams is here. Says the light came back on her dash." Sam announced.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said, rolling out on the scooter. He stood up and grabbed one of the shop rags hanging off the hood, wiping his hands. "Make Nathan take a look when he gets back. Maybe she keeps coming in because she doesn't like me."

"Or maybe she keeps coming in because she does," Sam teased, unable to hide his smirk.

Dean smacked him with the shop rag.

"Ow! Okay, that one actually hurt."

"Good."

The boys walked in through the door to the lobby. Dean went through his usual speech with Mrs. Williams, noticing Sam was right: she was a bit more flirty than usual. Sam couldn't help himself but laugh at her reaction when Dean said he would let one of his other guys take a look, just in case he was missing something.

"You know, I'm surprised you don't flirt back," Sam said once Mrs. Williams had left.

"Sam, she could be our grandma!"

Sam had never laughed so hard in his life.

Closing time was fairly simple. Sam took out the trash, straightened up the magazines, turned off the television, cashed out the drawer, and shut down the computer. He and Dean were always the last two to leave. Sam watched through the window to the garage, watching Dean finish putting tools away and lock up all the roll doors.

The bell to the lobby rang, which Sam thought was weird because he swore he locked that door after the last customer.

"We're closed," he said casually over his shoulder.

"Sam!?"

Sam spun around quickly. "Meg?"

Meg laughed. "How funny! Of all the mechanic shops in town..."

It's really not that funny. There are lots of mechanic shops in town.

Sam felt like he suddenly lost his footing, heavily leaning on the ledge of the window. "Wh- what are you doing here?"

"A friend loaned me his car but the tire pressure is too low. The internet said you do that here."

"Not really. The pump is around the side. Anyone can use it." Sam awkwardly explained.

"Could you show me?"

Is she trying to flirt with me? "I'm not a mech-"

"Sam! Let's rock and roll!" Dean exclaimed, walking into the lobby. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Meg. "Sorry, but we're closed for the night."

"No worries. I'm a friend."

Dean didn't think anything of it. Until he looked over at his little brother who looked like he was about to hurl. "Regardless, we are still closed. If you need us to look at your car, bring it back tomorrow."

Sam could see Meg wanted to challenge Dean. He was just grateful Dean was here to stand in between them. Something else was said, and then Meg walked out the door. The next several minutes were a blur. Sam didn't remember leaving the shop. He just knew Dean was nudging his arm and they were parked outside the house.

"Sam? You with me?" Sam nodded and Dean let out a sigh. "Dude, don't scare me like that! I thought I was going to have to take your catatonic ass inside."

"Sorry."

Dean put the car in the park and shut the headlights off, sensing there was going to be some sort of moment here. "A friend, huh?"

Sam nodded.

"What's her name?"

"Meg." Sam's voice was almost robotic. It chilled Dean that there was no emotion. "We were in the hospital together."

That explains that. "Did something happen between you two?"

She tried to kiss me. "No, I just didn't think I would see her again."

Dean wanted to ask more questions. A knock on the passenger window startled both of them. Dean rolled it down, revealing John bundled up in a blanket with his arms crossed. "Your mother wants to know if everything is okay and if you're coming inside."

"We're just chit-chatting," Dean explained playfully as Sam suddenly started gathering his belongings. "You know this kid never stops talking."

"Uh huh," John said. "Better come in before your balls freeze off. Snowstorm coming in later."

As John turned around to go back inside, Dean rolled up the window. He was about to ask if Sam was going to be okay but was interrupted by Sam suddenly reaching across the passenger seat, and wrapping him in a hug. "Thank you," Sam whispered in his ear.

"I got you. You know that right?"

Sam released his brother and nodded. Throwing open the car door, Sam booked it inside the house, not wanting to spend one second out in the cold.

Dean smiled as he put the car back in drive and left the neighborhood.

Dean: Hey

Dean: U feeling better?

Dean: Sam?

Sam: Meds work. Go sleep.

Dean: Lol ok

Dean: Night Sam

coffeeaddict13