11

Little later that day Dean got on the phone with Benny and explained his situation briefly: "I'm fine, I'll be staying with Sam, it's just temporary... No, there's no need for you to come and check on me, Sam's— or at least was a great hunter, he'll be making sure we're safe, on the the other hand if he mistakes you as... I know you're worried about me Benny, I'm worried about you too."

Sam knocked on the door: "Dean?"

"Just a sec." Dean answered, he lowered his voice and continued talking: "I promise I'll be back soon, back to our normal lives. Promise me you'll be fine. And, if anything happens in New York, let me know as soon as possible."

"Dean, you okay?" Sam got a bit worried: "How's your wound?"

"I'm putting my pants on, you don't wanna see your big brother naked do you!" Dean felt he had got a migraine. "No! It's just Sam making a fuss, I'm not injured, yes, it's just that same wound from last time, not a big deal, I got this, bye."

As soon as Dean opened the door he saw Sam standing at the door frame with anxious written all over his face: "What took you so long?"

"Do you remember that there's a word called 'privacy'?"

"That thing was gone when you took that girl back to the motel and screwed her in front of my face when you were seventeen." Sam smiled.

"Ha, you could've at least made a sound when you were hiding in the bathroom instead of screaming to Diana after I'm done."

"It's Denise." Sam rolled his eyes. "And that was the first time I had seen a woman naked, it's only normal that I screamed okay? I had nightmares for a whole week afterwards."

"Oh come on, we both know what kind of dream you were actually having."

Sam reached for Dean's clothes, Dean immediately cried out "What are you doing" but Sam had already gotten hold of him firmly in his grip: "Settle down, let me see your wound." Only after confirming everything's fine did he frown in disgust: "What on earth is that on your pants?"

"You wouldn't wanna know."

"I wouldn't wanna know." Sam straightened up, "God, can't believe I just let you go to sleep like this. You're gross, dude. I'm having second thoughts now, should I take you to dinner or should you take a shower first?"

Sam decided dinner should come first despite Dean's excited mutter "You know what I can actually do both at the same time".

Dean toured Sam's apartment as he was led through it, he slapped Sam on the shoulder: "Your home's pretty, it's like living in a home design magazine."

"You read home design magazines?"

"I know an editor of a home design magazine." Dean admitted, "Fine, at least we knew each other for eight hours."

"Sounds great." Sam sneered, "You're doing well, Dean."

"Sure." Dean stated, "I'm doing perfectly well."

Dean knew that Sam had always longed to live the life of a normal people, but to see it with his own eyes was a completely different matter. Glass vases with roses in it and delicate candle holders on the dining table, this was a bit too cozy even for Sammy girl. Dean came over and sniffed, he looked at Sam in disbelief: "This candle's actually scented?"

"Amelia picked that."

Dean uttered a "wow": "You really are... a New Yorker, through and through."

Amelia took out a blueberry pie from the oven and smiled as she joined their conversation: "You are now too."

"That's right, I love New York, the bars and girls here—" Dean observed Amelia's expression, "Sam's different though, right?"

Amelia smiled, and Sam said: "If I'd knew you were following me, I'd have settled down in Vegas, everything you want is there."

Before they eat Amelia raised her hands: "Now let's pray."

Dean shot Sam a glance: you, praying?

Sam shook his head but closed his eyes and clasped his hands together anyways. He thought, thank God. Eyes opened and he saw Dean cutting off a big slice of blueberry pie merrily, purple jams were spilling everywhere. Contented and satisfied, Dean blurted out a question: "Then why did you come to New York?"

Sam scooped a big scoop of salad from the bowl and put it in Dean's plate forcefully.

Dean glowered: you ruined my pie!

Sam mouthed: eat it.

Amelia was beginning to accept the level of close intimacy between the two brothers, in fact she was glad of Dean's arrival because she sensed the change in Sam within just a couple of hours. Not so long ago she was worried that Sam would become increasingly aloof and cold, but now he was just so lively and bright and smiling with all his heart.

She watched as Sam got busy trying to get Dean to take an extra bite of his vegetables and smiled: "Because my job's in New York. Ever since we met Sam had been looking for a job in New York and everything went well."

"He must love you very much." Dean let go of his slice of pie, he told Amelia: "You can't possibly know how grateful I am to you, being able to be there for Sammy."

"Sammy?" Amelia raised her brows and found that deeply amusing, she tried calling Sam that.

Sam put his fork back into his plate and shook his head: "No, don't call me that. That'll just make me think you're my brother."

"Mm." Dean whistled, "Can't do that with your brother, right?"

"Dean!" Sam shouted, he gave Amelia a "I'm sorry about him" look and coughed in embarrassment: "Care to stop making dirty jokes on all occasions? We're not alone in here."

Amelia laughed and shook her hand: "I think I'm beginning to understand how you two behave around each other, I'll get used to it."

"Dude, look at her." Dean blinked, "I like her."

"Um..." Sam decided to quit acting like an elite lawyer, "As far as I know, you like every woman."

Dean had slept for the whole afternoon, and now after a feast he was just full of energy. After taking the bath Sam forced him to, he came out in a towel and sat still as Sam changed the dressing on his wound. Then he went to Sam's wardrobe to pick out some clothes to wear.

Dean picked and chose: "You're a Bigfoot." "Your wardrobe's the house of Death." "You betrayed flannel."

Sam poked his head inside and saw Dean struggling to roll up of the bottom of his trousers, he suggested: "You could go with one of my summer shorts... Never mind, there's a pair of scissors in the drawer, you can cut one of those sweatpants." He flashed what was in his hand: "Your dirty clothes, should I wash them for you or just throw them away?"

"I can't cut one of your pants everyday... Wait, can I?"

"Don't talk like you change your trousers everyday" Sam ordered: "Get dressed, then we'll go and buy you some new clothes."

At last Dean came out in a pair of sweatpants with stray threads at the bottom and a Stanford hoodie: "That's right, I rather wear this than one of your grandpa sweaters."

"You look funny, Dean." Sam said, "You sure you wanna drive the Impala in that?"

"Oh, she loves me for myself."

"Then shall we go?" Sam opened the door.

Dean gave a look at Amelia who was sitting alone on the couch and stepped outside the door behind Sam: "You're just gonna leave a lady behind alone? Now I feel the kind of guilt asking a married friend to go out and fool around."

"First, we're not going fooling around. Second, Amelia has a date. And finally, when did you start to care about these kinds of things?"

"Dunno." Dean opened his mouth, "But, Sam, she's the one you'll be spending the rest of your life with."

"Why do you keep talking like that?" Sam couldn't take it anymore, he raised his voice: "I don't need you to tell me how to live my life! I had an absolutely perfect life while you were gone so there's absolutely no need for you to worry about me, I know how to get a wife or get a raise. Whilst your life sucks without me, and if it weren't for me you'll be in prison right now."

"Yeah." Dean said coldly as he opened the hidden compartment in the trunk, all the weapons were there. "They weren't here this morning, you just can't wait to give them back to me huh?"

"Or I'm getting ready to leave at any time."

Dean slammed the trunk close hard: "Are you crazy?"

"Dean, you're back."

"I don't need you to look after me." Dean hissed: "You've got a family here, you've got friends, and a girlfriend, I'll never ask you to leave them behind because of me, not again, you hear what I said, don't do this for me, Sammy. Thinking of what you might give up because of me, I can't stand that."

They hit the road in silence, Dean grabbed a couple of shirts at random, Sam got the same shirts in a bigger size: "I miss flannel."

And that's the end of chapter 3 in the original work.