Sam walked through the apartment door and tossed the keys on a low table by the foyer. "Dean?" He asked tentatively.

Dean looked up from his position on the futon. He sat forwards a little, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yeah, 'm here." He looked drained, as though the events of the last few hours had wrung him dry emotionally.

"Dad's truck is gone." Sam said, avoiding looking too closely at his sibling and instead moving to the kitchenette to grab a drink.

Dean regarded him with a slightly wary air. "Yeah, he's pulled out. Got some place to be."

Sam gave a derisive snort and rolled his eyes. "That's great." He didn't hide the bitterness in his tone. The undercurrent that said 'he's always got some place else to be.' Sam looked at Dean over his can of soda and leaned against the fridge as he closed it. "You okay, man?"

The answer was a gruff positive, despite the slightly defeated expression. "Yeah." Dean gestured at the entrance door. "Is Logan...?"

"Is Logan coming?" Sam finished. "Nah."

Dean looked a little puzzled. "It's his place, right?"

"I asked him to give us some space for a few days." Sam walked a few steps, closing the gap between them, his thumb toying with the aluminum tab on the can.

"He's okay with that?" Dean's mouth pulled up in a wry smile. "Mebbe he's not a total ass."

"He's a decent guy. He really is."

Dean paused for a moment and then continued in a quiet voice. "I'm not gonna be here for a few days, Sammy."

Sam's expression appeared crestfallen. He didn't hide it, or if he did he was failing miserably. "No? I mean you just got here."

"I was kinda in the middle of somethin', y'know. Burned rubber getting here when Bobby called." Dean gave a rueful grin. "Didn't want you and Dad tearing chunks outta each other."

"Middle of what?" Sam asked pointedly.

The grin slipped as Dean made a vague gesture and broke eye contact. "Hunting...research. You know the score."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You think you're okay to be hunting?" The tone was skeptical.

His brother's gaze was suddenly fixed on him as a small frown pulled at his forehead. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam was to the point as always. "It means you're a wreck, Dean. I'm not sure you're in the mind frame to hunt."

A stony expression slid over Dean's face. "Thanks."

"I'm sorry but it's the truth." Sam looked at Dean's features and softened a little. "I'm just worried about you, man."

Dean didn't respond. Sam took another sip, swallowed slowly and asked. "Is Dad...was Dad okay to you?"

Dean sighed heavily and stood up, running his fingers through his hair in a distracted way. "Yeah he was fine. Look, Sam, I know you're worried, and I appreciate it man I really do, but I'm gonna have to deal with this one myself. And Dad helped, okay? He really helped."

Sam finished off his soda and circled back to the fridge. "Wanna beer?"

Dean shrugged. "Sure."

Sam tossed him one, then broke one open himself, clearly deciding that soda wasn't gonna cut it.

"Dad helped?" The tone was a little skeptical. "...good to hear."

The sharp and distinctive smell of beer reached Dean's nostrils as he cracked open his own drink. He took a sip, eyeing Sam over the top of the can. "Dad's been through some heavy shit himself." There was no mistaking the defensive tone on their father's behalf.

"Nam." Sam replied gravely. "Yeah, yeah I know."

"I know you guys..." The words petered out and Dean huffed a tired sigh, looking suddenly a little lost. "He's not so bad Sam."

Sam looked away and there was a hurt behind his eyes that almost startled his brother with its intensity. "Yeah."

"You okay now?" Dean's stance changed slightly as he put his own problems aside; somehow it made him look approachable, softer.

"Me okay?" Sam asked, perplexed. It startled him out of his thoughts.

"Sounds like you had quite run in earlier, with..." His brother fingered his throat in an unconscious gesture. "...with the coin."

Sam looked away, again, his jaw tight. He didn't answer.

Suddenly it was all concerned big brother. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Sam dodged the question. "How much did Dad tell you?"

"Pretty much everythin'." Dean was watching him carefully.

An embarrassed flush crept into Sam's cheeks.

"I'm sorry you went through that. I should've gotten rid of it before I left."

Sam blinked, his eyes a little glassy. "That was nothing, Dean. Nothing compared to you."

Dean sucked in a deep breath. "It's over now."

"I..." Sam began and then swallowed it down.

Dean's next words were slightly forced, but delivered in a more up-beat manner. "Hey, just imagination most of it, right? Me and Dad... we talked some about it."

Sam perked up, thinking that maybe his father had listened to his advice."Yeah. Yeah it is... Me- I just got images and voices in my head. It didn't do anything to me. Dad was right there the whole time."

Dean looked distinctly relieved. "Yeah? So, just another nightmare, huh?"

"Yeah nightmare." Sam took a sip of beer. "One of many."

Guilt wrinkled the elder Winchester's forehead. "I shouldn't have brought it here."

"Dean don't be stupid." Sam's tone was annoyed at the predictable self-flagellation. "You needed help, you came to me."

"Yeah and put you in danger. I should've stayed with Dad."

"I wasn't in danger."

"You would've been, if Dad hadn't got here."

"I wasn't in danger. It had no form, Dean. It's just a stupid..." Sam huffed, at a loss for a definition. "I don't know what the hell it was." He shook his head, itched his nose. "I was just an idiot who didn't get rid of the coin before my neat freak roommate found it."

"How'd you end up sharing a place with Logan anyhow?"

"Well they don't let you stay on campus as an undergrad during break, to my surprise and horror." Sam shook his head at his own naivety. "Found myself out on my ass first year here. Logan's family took me in for the holiday."

Dean lifted an eyebrow, thinking what a contrast he must have seemed after Sam. "Bet he was real pleased when I turned up."

"He...you just got off on the wrong foot is all. He really helped me when I was stuck. He's a nice person, really."

His brother snorted, amused. "Don't think me and Logan'd ever be on the right foot. But hey, I guess that's okay, it's not like I'm gonna be seeing him again."

"Dad showed up and fucking manhandled him apparently." Sam said over him and then paused as the implications of Dean's words hit him. "Never gonna see him again..." His eyes went soft, pleading. "What are you saying?"

Dean shrugged easily. "Well, I ain't gonna be callin' in here and upsetting the guy all over again. Plenty of other places in Palo Alto."

Sam's face showed a worry. "But...but you'll see me, right?" His tone revealed that he knew he wouldn't see Dean no matter what his big brother promised.

Dean glanced around the apartment, almost as though he was seeing it properly for the first time. "You got a nice place here Sam, best if I don't wreck it with Logan." He met his brother's eyes. "Sure, I'll be around."

"Yeah." Sam ducked his head, trying to hide his emotions behind his mop of hair.

"Hey. Don't look like that man. I'll be around. We'll get a beer or somethin'."

"I'm glad...glad you came to me, Dean. I really am." Sam whispered." A beer?" he asked. He swallowed, nodded and then took a sip of his bottle to hide the subtle tremble in his lower lip. When he'd gotten himself under control he looked up. "Dean... you gonna... You gonna be alright?" His tone betrayed his doubt.

Embarrassment stole across his brother's face. "Thanks Sam, for everything."

"That was some heavy shit."

Dean met his gaze. "I'm gonna be okay. Quit worryin' about me."

"You'll kick it in the ass. You always do." Sam said with false confidence. "You're..." he trailed off, unable to say it.

"A Winchester, Sammy. Can't let the monsters win, right?" Despite the words, it was obvious Dean was tightly wound emotionally.

"No. No. Course not." Sam stood next to him.

Dean stared at him, almost as though he wasn't sure what to say next. "So..."

"So?"

"Your coursework get done in the end? You were kind of in the middle of it when I turned up last time. You didn't get in trouble or nothing?"

"Dean... stay with Dad." Sam said quietly. "Don't be alone for a while." He paused, mid thought, switching gears. "Huh? Yeah. Yeah I got through midterms." He gave a small smile. "Takes more than near death and a lot of vomit to throw off my GPA."

Dean looked surprised, absorbing Sam's earlier comment. "I'll catch up with Dad; always do."

"Well you weren't with him all that time I thought you were." Sam set his beer on the floor. "We were both worried about you man."

Dean shrugged. "Just needed some time, that's all." He rolled his shoulders loose inside his coat and smirked, assuming his bad ass cover as easily as slipping on a new shirt. "We'll, we're all caught up now... one big happy family."

Sam snorted and shook his head. "Yeah... me and Dad...Nice reunion... You don't have to deal with everything alone you know."

Dean put his beer down with a decisive move. "I don't."

Sam's fingers tangled in Dean's coat sleeve.

"I wish you guys got along better." Despite the badass front, Dean's face betrayed his unhappiness.

"Me too." Sam's fingers tightened on the leather before they let go. "God, me too."

His brother sighed. "Well I guess that's a start."

"He just. He doesn't get me at all. I don't get him. I don't understand why he's gotta be a jerk all the time. I don't understand why he hates me so much."

A shadow crossed Dean's face. "You're a lot alike. He doesn't hate you, Sammy. That's just something you told yourself."

"I mean I know I haven't lived up to his standard of manhood...but I'm a nice guy." Sam seemed a little affronted by the comparison. "I'm nothing like him, Dean, he can't stand to be in the same room with me for more than ten minutes."

Dean backed away slightly. "Looks like he stuck around when it mattered."

The puppy eyes were watching him again. "Yeah. Yeah he was a help."

"He's Dad. He's good at what he does, hell, he's the best. He's just not too hot at communicating y'know?"

Sam snorted. "Yeah. The Winchester Way again."

Dean closed his eyes briefly, feeling again the raw strength of his father's hold, the desperately needed reassurance that he wouldn't be thought any less of, as a man, or as a son. He swallowed hard, staring at Sam from under his lashes. "He says the right things sometimes. It's what we are Sam, Winchesters."

"He sure doesn't say the right things when I'm around... I'm glad he helped you though." Sam studied his older brother's face earnestly. "I wanna help. Is there anything you need from me? Anything at all?"

"Nah, I'm fine. You've done enough."

Sam's look betrayed that he didn't believe him.

"I'm gonna let you get back to your life."

Sam didn't say anything but his jaw tightened and his eyes grew bloodshot before he blinked it away and manned up. He encroached on his brother's space again.

"I'll swing by now and then, buy you some decent food." Dean reassured him.

Sam threw his arms around his neck in a crushing embrace.

Slightly startled, Dean hugged him back, slapping him a couple of times in a manly way. "Thanks Sammy."

Over his brother's shoulder, Sam clenched his teeth and whispered. "Be safe."

"Yeah, you too man. Get some goddamned salt lines down."

"Call me if you need me"

"You too."

Sam broke away. "Don't need salt lines here." He kept the uncertain knowledge that neither of them would call the other to himself.

His brother frowned. "You need salt lines everywhere, you know that. Tell Logan the salt is some special shit from Antarctica, cost a fortune, he'll be all over it."

"Then he'd be asking me why I'm throwing it on the floor. Instead of cooking with it." Sam watched Dean skeptically, then gave a weak smile. "Cause that's what normal people do with salt. Weird I know."

Dean smirked. "Tell him all the stars are doin' it, or royalty in the middle east or somethin'. These rich kids believe shit like that."

Sam snorted in reluctant amusement and then gave him a genuine smile, his dimples carved deeply into his cheeks. For a moment he looked like Dean's little Sammy, the years torn away.

His brother grinned at him in response, moving towards the door. "So... I'm gonna split."

Sam stood torn, wanting to say I love you but not knowing how to find the words. "You... take care."

Dean gave him a slightly wistful look, turned it into a cheeky, brotherly wink and stepped through the doorway. "You too, Sammy."

Sam turned away to brush away tears and clear his throat, alone again in the exile of his choosing.

There was the sound of boot soles on the steps, the rumble of the Impala and Dean was gone.

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