Author's Note: Ok people. This is the final chapter, complete with the brothers having a real talk. Are you ready for this? lol Before we commence, I want to thank janiekm, AJTish, StyxxsOmega, angellec, ncsupnatfan, NerdAngel, lobita, ImpalaLove, need2no, TG, HilaNamerchuk, reannablue, Zana Zira, lenail125, GuestJ, sarah, judyann, kingdommast, mb64, SuperVikinggirl, rmttts, SamSam, Nyx Ro, Er-BearG32, sunshine102897, jojospn, and pryde23 for their recent reviews and support. And thanks to every reader! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. If I did, there'd probably be a lot more broments and a lot less of a Hellatus. lol

The next day Dean was moved from the ICU to a regular hospital ward, and two days after that he left the medical facility altogether.

He was given a prescription for some painkillers, which the doctor explained to Sam were meant to offset any remaining discomfort in Dean's shoulder, torso, leg, etc. Sam knew that Dean would probably just fill the prescription and not use it. His brother would save the pills for a possible emergency in the future because Dean had rarely been one to allow himself medication after his stay in a hospital. Still, Sam made a mental note to at least try and get his brother to look after himself.

That was, if Dean would let him.

The man had been acting rather strangely over the past few days, and it was really starting to get to Sam. It was as if the older Winchester couldn't decide whether he wanted Sam around or not. One minute Sam would be helping and Dean would look grateful for the assistance. The next, Dean would be aggressively telling him he could do everything himself and that Sam shouldn't feel obligated to help.

Sam had already tried explaining to Dean several times that he wasn't just helping out of some sense of requirement, but unfortunately a hospital was not the ideal location for a heart-to-heart, and Sam had found that Dean was even more of a closed book than usual with all the nurses running in and out of his room.

Dean hadn't even chosen yet to divulge his whereabouts over the past year. Sam had inquired multiple times about what had happened after Dick was killed, including what had become of Castiel, but so far Dean had either found ways to dodge the questions, or had been saved by the intrusion of medical staff at just the right moment. Sam had asked Kevin, too, but the young prophet would only say that Dean had been 'dealing with monsters all year', and that Sam should let Dean talk about it when he was ready.

Which worried Sam, because if Dean needed to be 'ready' to talk about something, then that something could only have been bad for his brother.

Still, despite how frustrating it was not having all the answers- watching Dean shut him out like he had so many times in the past- Sam wasn't going to push too hard just yet. After all, he wasn't particularly eager to talk about his own past year either, so it would be relatively unfair to force that sort of a discussion out of his brother straight away...

In fact, that was another conversation they hadn't had yet, although this was also more due to Dean's hesitance than Sam's. Sam had tried once to explain about his memory issues, meaning to discuss Kevin's theory with Dean, but his brother had changed the subject so abruptly that Sam got the feeling the topic actually upset the older man. Sam began to suspect that perhaps his brother had figured out the truth already, and he just didn't want to talk about it because he was bothered by how easily Sam had fallen prey to mental troubles again.

Sam hadn't been able to muster the courage to bring it up since.

OoO

When Dean was finally discharged, a nurse wheeled him out of the hospital and from there Dean hobbled on crutches to where Sam was waiting in the Impala, engine running. Kevin helped Dean into the passenger seat when he arrived. (Sam had wanted to be the one to escort Dean to the car, but Kevin shot the idea down by reminding him Dean would likely murder both of them if he found out Sam had ever let Kevin drive the vehicle.)

"You got everything?" Sam asked his brother when he was all settled in.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Dean replied a little grouchily, referring to the fact that Sam had been responsible for taking care of Dean's things while he was in the hospital. All Dean had needed to take out with him was the bagged bundle of his bloody, messy clothing from the night of his injuries.

Sam ignored the quip and turned to the prophet. "How about you Kevin?" he asked. Sam needed to be sure that no one was leaving anything important behind.

The plan was to head to Dean's motel room for the night, and the next day Sam guessed they'd be blowing town. Kevin's spell had sent Crowley back to Hell, but that wouldn't last forever. Kevin said it was supposed to keep him away for one week, but considering the fact that this was magic none of them were particularly well versed in, they weren't taking any chances by lingering. They planned to be long gone from Lexington, Nebraska by the time the King was top-side, which meant leaving as soon as possible. Of course, ideally Kevin would have used the demon-killing spell he'd initially escaped with to eliminate Crowley entirely, but he hadn't been graced with the time to collect the various herbs and items which it would have required. Instead he was only able to use a simple blood-spell of banishment.

"All my stuff is back at the motel," Kevin stated in response to Sam's question.

Satisfied that no one was missing any belongings, Sam drove the Impala away from the hospital ER and towards the motel.

OoO

Kevin crashed when they got to the room. The kid was still used to staying up all night and sleeping through the late mornings, and he was noticeably exhausted from all the recent daytime activity. (Dean had requested Kevin stay with Sam as much as possible, just in case Crowley broke out of Hell early and made a bee-line for the kid. Which meant Kevin had been spending his days mostly in Dean's hospital room.) Sam took a shower while the prophet slept, and that left Dean to sit on the unoccupied twin bed and think.

It was the exact sort of activity he'd been avoiding over the past three days.

Dean knew he'd been snapping at Sam a lot lately regarding things the younger man did to help. Sometimes he let himself just enjoy that fact that his little brother was there to do things like make sure he didn't forget something at the hospital. But then he would remember that Sam had wanted to be free of responsibility for Dean before...

And automatically Dean would push Sam away with attitude and aggression.

Dean told himself that he needed to get used to life without Sam's help anyway, because Sam needed to be rid of him. Plus, now that Sam had his memories back and could effectively hide from demons on his own, there was no excuse for Dean to keep hanging around and cramping his style. Tomorrow they would have to go their separate ways so Sam could get to live the good life he wanted- heck, the life he deserved- and that would be that.

Still, it wasn't like knowing he was giving Sam what he wanted made the fact that what Sam wanted was to be away from him hurt any less.

It was why Dean hadn't yet discussed with Sam the origin of the man's memory issues. Sam had tried already to give an explanation, but Dean had panicked slightly and wiggled out of the conversation before Sam could really dish out any information. Which was strange, because Dean had wanted desperately to know what had caused Sam's problem from the moment he found 'Robert'. But now Dean couldn't bring himself to hear the answer he knew Sam would give him.

Sam had chosen to let his memories go, and most importantly, to forget his sorry excuse for a brother.

"Hey, you want to come with me to get Dean?" Sam asked, startling Dean a little. He'd been too lost in thought and hadn't heard Sam come out of the bathroom.

"'Get Dean'?" Dean echoed, momentarily confused. Then he remembered the Australian Sheppard holed up in Sam's apartment, and he understood. "Right. The dog Dean," he said before Sam could clarify.

Sam had been checking up on the dog over the past several days, and it was apparently doing pretty well. According to Sam, Dean the Dog had been majorly relieved when his human companion came back the first time. The way Sam told it, even Dean the Human, who was definitely not a dog person, couldn't deny that the animal's reaction to it's owner's return had sounded adorable. (What had sounded less adorable was the accident the dog had apparently made all over the living room carpeting, but Dean could hardly blame the critter for letting his bladder go during the nearly twenty four hours of time he'd been cooped up in the apartment before Sam got back to him. And Sam had just been too relieved Crowley didn't hurt the dog to care what it had done.)

Dean was glad the dog was doing well, but still... Hanging out with his little brother and that dog before they both left him for greener pastures didn't exactly sound like a lot of fun, so Dean said, "Nah, you go. I don't think the dog will miss me."

It wasn't the response he'd been planning to let tumble out of his mouth. It didn't even necessarily make sense. He'd meant to say something more like 'you go because I'm tired and want to sleep' or even 'you go because I don't think the dog missed me.' Yet the words that came out instead sounded far more bitter and revealing than he'd have hoped for.

Sam gave him a long look before insisting, "No. Get your coat, you're coming with me."

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Sam didn't give him the chance. "We need to talk," the younger Winchester stated firmly, and he headed out the motel door leaving Dean to swing himself onto his crutches and follow after.

OoO

Despite Sam having insisted there was a need for discussion, they drove in silence down the street to Sam's apartment. It was a very short distance to travel, but due to Dean's gimp leg, walking the several blocks was not the best option.

Sam parked the Impala and strode around to open Dean's door for him. Dean grumbled something about still having two functional hands, but Sam ignored his griping and stood by to make sure he got onto his crutches without falling. When Dean was officially out of the car and standing upright, Sam closed the door behind them and lead the way to his apartment.

"I'll go in first and get a hold on Dean. Otherwise he'll probably knock you over from excitement," Sam said as he unlocked the door. "I'll let you know when it's safe to come in."

Dean grunted in agreement and watched his younger brother enter the building. The door closed quickly and Dean was left on the porch listening to the muffled sounds of Sam trying to calm a hyper K9.

He wasn't too eager to see the dog again. He didn't have anything against the animal itself, but somehow since Sam got his memories back the creature had become an unwelcome reminder that the only remnant of him left in Sam's life after Sam got rid of his memories was the dog he had named after his brother.

As if in Sam's subconscious, his older brother was nothing more than a mangy mutt.

He hadn't thought about it like that before, but then again, before he didn't know that Sam's amnesia was something he had opted for on his own.

I regret to inform you, Dean, that the gargantuan head-case did this all to himself.

Crowley's words still rang out in Dean's head, still cutting him deeper than he'd care to admit. Sam had chosen to forget him, and somehow Dean had managed to undo that by showing up and getting Sam kidnapped, tortured, and nearly killed. But it wouldn't be the first time he'd ruined Sam's chances at peace by getting him into all sorts of trouble, would it? No wonder Sam had wanted to be rid of him…

Well, today was the last day Dean would spend with the younger man before he did what was best for Sam, and what Sam clearly had wanted… The last day before it was Dean's turn to let his brother go, no matter how much he didn't want to.

"Ok he's in his crate! Come on in!" Sam shouted from the other side of the door. Dean took a deep breath and twisted the handle, hobbling awkwardly on his crutches over the small step into the apartment.

Immediately he heard excited whining coming from a dog crate in the living room. The plastic cage shook as the dog scuffled around inside, trying to find a way to break free and get to the human he hadn't seen in several days.

"He missed you a lot, apparently. You grew on him pretty quick," Sam said with a smirk.

Dean couldn't stop himself from replying with, "Well, he'll get over me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked. There was something in his tone that made Dean think they were about to have the talk Sam had mentioned earlier.

Dean just shrugged, not really sure what to say. Because what could he say that would make Sam understand how he was feeling? And more importantly, what could he say that wouldn't make Sam feel guilty and convince him he needed to stick around- that he needed to get stuck with Dean again? As much as a part of him selfishly wanted to let Sam talk himself into that, the bigger part of him wouldn't let Sam suffer that way.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Sam asked.

Dean avoided eye contact as he replied, "No. Why?"

Sam's face grew serious as understanding struck him. "Dean, please tell me you're not planning on leaving," he said, his voice quiet but steady.

Damn it, thought Dean. He'd been half-hoping his refusal to give much information away would stall the conversation, but the kid had always been good at reading what was going through his mind…

"How could you even think of doing that again?" Sam looked genuinely shocked as he inquired.

"Again?" Dean replied, anger creeping into his tone. "You say that like I had a choice the first time. I got sucked into freaking Purgatory, Sam! You think I wanted to spend a year as monster bait? Every day…That whole year… I was thinking about my little brother stuck cleaning up Leviathans and trying to save the world by himself. But when I finally get back to him I find out-" Dean stopped ranting for a second, trying to reign in his emotions. "I didn't choose to leave you, and I wouldn't choose to forget you either," he finally finished.

Dean was breathing heavily, ignoring the sting it caused in his recently mended lung, and staring intently at the carpet while gripping the handles on his crutches extra tightly in an effort to calm down. He hadn't meant to blow up like that, but how dare Sam imply that he was doing something offensive by leaving when that was all Sam had wanted in the first place?

"Ok, ignoring the fact that you were apparently in Purgatory all last year, which is awful, by the way…You think I chose to forget everything?" Sam asked in a small voice. "To forget you?"

Dean looked up and found Sam wearing a deeply pained expression, and something wasn't right about it. Sam should be excited to hear Dean was giving him what he wanted, not looking like Dean had just kicked his puppy…

"Why do you sound surprised?" Dean asked warily.

"Oh my God you really do," Sam answered, looking like he couldn't believe it. "Why the hell would you think that?"

"Because Crowley already told me that you took your memories away yourself!" Dean shot back.

"And Crowley's always been such a reliable source of intel, right?" Sam replied in a tone oozing sarcasm.

Dean stared at Sam, ready to argue, but nothing was coming out of his mouth. Sam looked genuinely upset by the accusation… Maybe Crowley had lied?

Sam seemed to read the hesitance on Dean's face, because the next words out of his mouth were quiet, almost gentle. He looked his brother in the eye as he said, "If I'd wanted to forget you, then why would I have built my whole new life around you?"

"You didn't, Sam. You named a dog after me. You built everything else around Bobby and dad and-" Dean heatedly explained.

"No I didn't." Sam cut in. "I used their names, but everything else was you. I thought you'd have noticed that. I mean that was basically the first thing I noticed once I was back to myself. The childhood memories, the beer I stocked my fridge with, the way my 'uncle' died-"

"You said he died because of a bomb," Dean clarified. "I didn't get blown up."

"I remember thinking he died in an explosion in a warehouse. He and his partner. I told you about that, remember?" Sam explained.

"Yeah…?" Dean prompted him to continue, still not quite getting the point.

"All I remember about you disappearing was a big explosion of Dick and then you and Cas were just gone," Sam said plainly.

"Wait, so you mean that 'Bobby' and his FBI partner were actually-" Dean finally felt the pieces coming together.

"You and Cas, yeah," Sam affirmed. "I guess names got mixed up along the way, but the information was all there. Everything about my new life, from my coffee preferences to my dog… It was all just pieces of you."

"I'm a dog to you?" Dean deadpanned.

"No, but I mean, you're kind of like a dog." Sam said. Dean tried not to be insulted as Sam quickly rushed to explain, saying, "I mean, dogs are loyal and protective and they're good company… They're like the best kind of friend."

What Sam was saying finally started to ring true to Dean, because hadn't Sam said something like that the first day Dean had found him? Dean had indicated he thought the name choice of 'Dean' was odd for the dog, and Sam had shot down his judgment by saying something…

Hey, don't poke fun at my best friend's name!

Dean hadn't thought anything of the comment back then. Dogs were called 'man's best friend' all the time, right? But now Dean was seeing the layers to Sam's statement…

And when Dean had asked why that was the name he'd picked, what had Sam had said…?

I don't know. It just felt right for him- Dean seemed like a respectable name.

"You're not pulling my leg here," Dean concluded as he finally realized he had been wrong all along. Sam hadn't been cursed, but he hadn't wanted to forget him either. That much was now clear.

Still, a major question remained…

"What happened then? Why'd your eggs get all scrambled?" Dean asked.

"Kevin has a theory," Sam said, looking a little uncomfortable. "He told me while we were waiting for you to come out of surgery. There's this dissociative disorder people can get when they go through something traumatic. It's called 'Dissociative Fugue', and it basically causes the person's brain to build them a new identity out of pieces of their old life, and then run off to start over as that new person."

Immediately Dean was worried. Sam looked far too nervous about what he was saying, and instantly Dean had to ask, "Sam, what happened that was traumatic enough to make you lose your marbles?" He was imagining all sorts of horrors. Fights with leviathans that ended with Sam in unimaginable pain, or Crowley kidnapping and torturing Sam until he barely managed to escape…

Sam looked confused by the question. "Isn't that kind of obvious?" the taller man replied questioningly.

Dean paused and thought for a moment. He realized that all of the scenarios he was thinking up couldn't have happened, because Kevin had told him 'Robert Johnson' was created quite soon after Dean was stranded in Purgatory. Like right after the Dick incident. That wouldn't have left the Leviathans or Crowley time to torment Sam into mentally cracking. So that meant…

"You mean me and Cas going kablooey?" Dean inquired, eyebrows raised.

Sam looked both offended and saddened as he stated, "I'm getting the feeling you really don't think I care at all."

Dean quickly backpedaled because that wasn't actually the case. "No! That's not it, I- I just meant I'm confused why this time was so big. You didn't have a mental breakdown when I went to Hell, right? But you actually watched me die bloody that time. You've been through a lot of crap and there wasn't even a mess this time, so why now?"

Sam sighed and looked at the floor. "I didn't exactly handle you going to Hell all that great though, did I? Then after I went to Hell there was all that trouble with the wall in my head, and then seeing Lucifer all the time. I guess it makes sense that losing you and Bobby and Cas and Kevin…It would break me. I was never able to handle things like you do," Sam sounded so ashamed as he spoke that it genuinely hurt Dean to hear.

"Like I do?" Dean echoed. "You mean by drowning my major depression in alcoholism and reckless violence? Yeah, that sounds like a much healthier way to go," he scoffed.

"No, but Dean-" Sam began what was surely going to be an attempt at explaining to Dean why he really should feel bad about his reaction to the major losses he'd endured, but Dean was having none of it.

"No Sam," Dean cut him off. "Look, maybe you aren't the shining example of mental health, but God knows I'm not either! And ya know, I don't think we should be. We've been through Hell, both of us. We've lost damn near everyone we've ever cared about at least once. Sometimes more than that. We've been tortured and manipulated and pushed way past our limits… I dare you to find me someone who could go through all that and come out the other side of it just peachy in the head." Dean made sure he held Sam's gaze as he added, "But you know what Sam? We keep going. Yeah, we break apart inside from time to time, but we put our pieces back together and we keep going. By the way, I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for your ability to pull yourself together when it really counts… So all-in-all I think you should be damn proud of yourself," Dean finished his impassioned spiel and waited for Sam to respond.

After a long moment of deep consideration, Sam replied at last, "I never thought about it like that, but I guess you could be right." He gave Dean a hesitant smile.

"You guess? Of course I'm right," Dean stated before adding lightly, "I'm the oldest."

"Careful there 'oldest'. You're still on crutches, and head-case or not I can totally take you right now," Sam taunted.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he was just glad to hear Sam perking up. He wasn't lying to the guy. He really did think Sam should be proud of himself. After everything he'd been through, Sam was still standing- still fighting, even- and Dean knew that anyone around would be impressed by that.

"Ok, well I gotta get Dean's stuff loaded into the Impala," Sam finally said after a beat. "I'll let him out of his crate last and put his leash on him then."

Dean gave a long-suffering sigh. "You're determined we have to keep the mutt, huh?" he asked wearily.

Sam paused, eying Dean on his crutches, and Dean could practically hear the thoughts going through Sam's head. He knew the younger man was worrying that perhaps Dean wouldn't want to be around the animal anymore after all, especially after having just been attacked by another Hellhound.

"I…I don't want to just drop him at a shelter. But- I understand if you need- I mean I can try and find a non-kill place for us to take him to," Sam stammered, sounding painfully disheartened.

Dean pretended to consider that option for a second before saying, "No. I've heard dogs are good for mental therapy. You probably could use his company, what with all your loose screws…"

Sam smiled at the teasing, and it was clear he understood Dean was giving him permission to keep the animal he obviously loved.

"Can we at least change the name though?" Dean asked then, this time being sincere.

"Are you kidding? And give up my chance to watch you come running every time I call my dog? No way man," Sam insisted with a laugh.

Dean rolled his eyes at that and said, "Watch it Sammy. The dog doesn't bite, but I might snap at you."

Sam just grinned cheekily as he hefted the box of supplies towards his door. But then he paused, put the box down, and adopted a more serious expression as he walked back over to Dean.

Then in one swift motion, Sam pulled Dean into one of his patented little brother hugs, all the while being careful not to aggravate Dean's injuries.

"What's this for?" Dean asked, leaning into Sam as best he could while still unable to release hold of his crutches.

"Purgatory," Sam stated simply.

Dean was unable to stop himself from smiling slightly at that answer, and he was glad Sam couldn't see it from his angle.

After another moment Sam let his brother go, but he kept one hand on Dean's good shoulder as he said, "I get why you didn't want to talk about that place before, and I understand you're probably still not ready to," Sam paused, clearly trying to consider the best way to phrase something. Eventually he finished with, "But when you are ready, I'm here to listen. And I swear I'm not going anywhere, ok?"

Dean smirked and said, "Dude, are you having PMS or something?"

Sam rolled his eyes and stooped down to pick up the box of dog supplies once more. "Jerk," he tossed over his shoulder as he carried the container towards the Impala.

"Bitch!" Dean called out the door after him cheerfully.

While Sam was loading the box into Baby's trunk, Dean took a moment to bask in the knowledge that somehow, after a year of Purgatory, two weeks of memory-less little brother, and a near-deadly confrontation with the King of Hell... Everything was finally ok.

Well, as 'ok' as things got for the Winchesters.

They had Kevin and the demon tablet to protect, a way to close Hell forever to work on, and probably a whole other mess of crap heading their way, because life seemed to hate leaving them in the calm for too long.

But at least they were together, as brothers, like they should be.

Secondary Author's Note: So there you have it. Even when Sam's brain wanted to help him escape the pain of losing Dean, he couldn't actually let go of his brother. He still subconsciously built his whole new identity around him. (Kudos to rmttts, by the way, for having connected those dots early on.) ;) And now Dean finally knows the big truth- that Sam DOES care. Thanks for reading! Seriously, you all have been the best and I am so grateful for your support through my first real multichapter! :D If you have a moment, please do leave feedback. It's almost better than brother hugs. lol ;) Thanks again everyone!