"Sam, I swear, if you so much touch my backpack, I'll kill you," Dean yelled from the bathroom. We were in another random motel on the outskirts of town that Dean had stupidly chosen. This time the walls were a pea soup green and the two double beds had matching bed sheets. I had gotten bored quickly from the disgusting room and had begunt o rummage through my older brother's bag, in hopes of something halfway intersting.

Moments later Dean emerged, swaying a bit. He looked at me, then at his bag. I knew he was pissed. I just had no idea what had set him off this time. Our last trip had ended not as well as hoped, with the victim's body never found and us getting some very nasty bruises from the creature. But it was no reson for him to have such a bad attitude.

After a couple hours, and several bad reality shows, later Dean got up from his place on the bed he was lying on. He had fallen asleep for almost an entire hour. More than I had gotten in awhile.

"I'm sick of this. You want a bite to eat? I'm going out," Dean said to me, picking up his phone and wallet of the beside stand and walking to the door, his foots making echoing sounds in the small hellhole.

I thought about it. "Nah, I'm good. Just gonna try and recooperate before we head out again."

Without saying another word he left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

And his backpack.

"No. You can't...it's wrong. He wouldn't do that to me. oh like hell he wouldn't!" I said to myself. My courisoty was getting the best of me and I was giving in. I remembered back to when I was in high school. Dean had promised not to go through my drawers, but sure enough, I came home from school and found him rummaging through my sock drawer, finding every love letter i'd recieved from a girl.

"Just think of this as payback," I smirked.

The bag was packed full of crap. There was no way of telling immediatly what Dean was trying to hide from me. But I was sure I would find it soon. The first item was Dad's journal. Obvious place for it. Underneath it were some personal stuff, cologne, toothbrush, a bottle of expensive salon shampoo. Even car wax.

By then my nerves were coming back and I was terrified my older bro would walk back in the door any second. Right as I was shoving the crap back into the bag, something small and made of black leather fell out. It was no larger than a DVD case, but looked well worn.

My fingers flipped the cover open while my eyes darted to the door, just to make sure. Written, in cursive, was Dean Winchester.

I was taken aback. Was this what I thought it was? Dean's journal? The guy could barely come up with a sentimental sentence, let alone write entire pages of his deepest emotions.

But sure enough, there it was, the second page. A date and a couple paragraphs in Dean's handwriting. From the date it looked as if it was written when he was in high school.

September 6, 1995

Today was the first day of school. And, as usual, nobody said crap to me. they all looked at me and whispered to their friends, "Isn't that the freak who believes in ghosts? His Dad's a real cook."

I hate this place so much. The other day I asked Dad when I'd finally be able to get out of that hellhole and join him full time. He said he'd let me sooner, but he wants to stay here, because little Sammy wants an education.

What an idiot! Why does he want all the booksmarts he can get. Everything he needs to know, Dad can teach him. I guess he just doesn't realize how horrible my life is. It wouldn't be so bad if HE wasn't in the picture.

Hopefully this year will go by fast. Hell, maybe I can even get a girl to look past my freak family. And my "adorable" little brother and see me. Right, like that'll ever happen. The chess captain gets more action than I do. Wishful thinking I suppose.

My eyes burned from what I had just read. I had no idea that my life had made his teenage years so difficult. He had always told me he was a lady's man. That the girls used to swoon over him in the hallways. Why did he lie to me like that? And better yet, what else had he lied to me about?