NOW...

Metal hinges shrieked, begging for a good shot of oil. The further Sam swung the door, the more the rusted pins demanded for him to stop, but what else could he expect from a place called the Aroma motel. He shifted the bags in his arms, keeping it all balanced, as he slipped silently and carefully inside. The curtains were still drawn as he left them, but some sunlight spilled in enough for Sam to realize Dean was still dead asleep. When the door started to close, he cringed from dread that the hinge squeal might wake Dean, which ultimately had to happen soon anyway. Especially, for what Sam had in mind.

After setting several take out bags on the table, Sam finally pushed around the mess that was Dean's wallet. Before he didn't remember, but it was the one he gave his big brother the day he turned 16. He carefully inspected to make sure nothing was left and shifted all the recovered items into a slick new leather wallet.

When he finished, Sam crept over to the bed, not intending to wake Dean as gently as he could. But the view was too priceless and for a brief second he chuckled and wondered if he should snap a pic with his cell phone. Dean had drifted to sleep with a half full beer in between his legs and a half eaten cookie barely holding on in one hand and a remote in the other. After deciding against future blackmail, Sam carefully eased the beer bottle.

Waking with a start, Dean's eyes snapped open. He raised his hand in defense, almost knocking the bottle from Sam's hand.

"Whoa! Watch it there Rocky." So much for the subtle approach.

"What... what are you doing?"

"Trying to help you."

"Dude! Give me a little more warning next time!" Dean sighed.

"You got in that fight."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to heal in peace without the Sam, patented by the feds, lecture. I think I'll live without you tellin' me what I can and can't do. I got the crap kicked out of me. It's happened before and guess what it'll happen again. Just part of the job."

"You really developed a talent for it." Sam said softer and more amused.

When Dean caught sight of Sam's smirk, he readied himself for the usual banter. The threats and name calling were a tradition between them and in this instant a welcome relief. Yet, at the moment Dean was a bit confused in Sam's change of tone.

"You look like hell."

"Let's not go there… The word Hell just…"

"Yeah…. Think I can manage that.

As Dean shifted he groaned. "Dude, this still kind sucks."

"Could you have figured that out before you took on the Green Bay Packers?"

"HA!"

"Hey, man," Sam called. "Is that the same cookie you were working on when I left?"

"No... Uh..." Dean muttered, dropping the cookie out of his hand. "Uhh….You left?"

"Uh... yeah... last night...when you were half way into that beer and cook…."

"Last night?"

"Okay, you really are out of it! You should really be more careful. I told you not to get too cocky."

"You the candy ass... good thing you know that and fully admit your faults. What have you been smokin'? You look like you just swallowed a tur..."

"Nothing... just having a good day. And I didn't take on the entire 5th battalion of rednecks, so I..."

"Yeah! yeah! Rub it in! Kick when I'm down... okay, right here." Dean pointed at his one of his ribs. "I think they missed this spot, so please finish..."

About that time Sam smacks a new wallet down on the spot Dean indicated. "Happy Birthday."

"What?" Dean flinched as this was entirely unexpected, but Sam didn't even waiver at his brother's surprise. "Huh?"

"At what part did I lose you, Sparky?"

"Who are you? Where's my brother?" Dean asked.

"I'm here. You're there."

"Oh... that makes it all so much clearer."

"Did you think I would forget? Not that you make it easy. Since you avoid the word birthday like the plague!"

"It's no big deal!"

"Well you have about five hours of birthday left?"

"Five left? Uh...how... What time is it?" Dean stumbled over his thoughts, even more confused.

"A little after seven…. At night."

"I've been asleep that long..."

"Almost a whole day. At least since about two in the morning when I went out. You were dosing off, eating cookies and drinking beer. Which I'll never figure out why you would want to mix that comb..."

"You should try beer on cornflakes!"

"Ugh…I'll pass. Anyway, I thought you need a new wallet since the other one..."

"The unfortunate casualty of too good a time."

"We need to work on your definition of a GOOD TIME!"

"I think I got that one down. It's you that... wait...Where were you for..." He stopped obviously counting the hours in his head.

"Open your wallet."

"What!"

"Open it!" Sam smarted. "Opposite of close... Lift one side..."

Flipping open the leather, Dean had a smartass response on his lips, but the picture staring back in him whisked it away. A photo of two children captured his attention, both so young and unknowing. Sam- a tiny baby- He a wide eyed toddler. He remembered the day this was taken- The day Sam came home. "Where did you?"

"At the Empty Glass."

"You didn't Sam… those guys…"

"That waitress is pretty chatty once you get to talk to her." Sam pretended not to notice that Dean was checking the new home of his keepsakes. In all his days, Sam never imagined his brother as the sentimental type, but it made perfect sense now.

"OH... Dad's sideburns! UGH! Looks like a squirrel died on his face."

"Mom was blind."

"I think she had secret plans all along to attack him with a razor. I always imagined her catching him asleep and ripping it off of him with a large piece of duct tape.

"Those were horrible…I'd have helped Mom if I had been born yet. " Sam chimed in.

"Oh... this one! Did they put a bowl on head and take a weedeater to my head."

"Yeah, pretty much...Course, you did the same to me."

"Whoa... I forgot about this... Mom's locket..." Dean uttered, finding the small golden piece of jewerly.

"Mom wore a locket?"

"Yeah... I broke it once... Man she was so pissed... Dad must have really promised her the moon after that. He fixed it and I kinda got it after she died."

"And then you broke it again."

"Yeah... yeah... long ass story and really I forgot a lot of it. Dad never really wanted to see it again, but I..." He was about to say he couldn't let go of it, but that seemed totally uncool. He flipped to each one until he came to the final photo pocket, finding the last place holder was empty and the faded receipt missing. He couldn't ask even if he wanted to. Sam had no way of knowing everything Dean had stashed away, and to be brutally honest even having some of it was more than he could ask for.

"Something wrong?" Sam turned so Dean couldn't see his sly grin.

"Nah, just thinking I'll have to break in a new wallet."

"Come on, get up and eat dinner..." Sam let Dean stand on his own, but hovered near in case the beating was worse than he thought. His brother managed just fine- a bit stiff and slow, but more than acceptable given the fight he just waged hours before. Yet, even the brief excursion took too much energy. He sat down with his put his head in his hands.

"You want a pillow?"

"DUDE!! What is up with you? All of a sudden you are all into mushy... Did you eat the purple berries again! I told you not to."

"I give you a wallet and you want to make a Hallmark movie over it… who is the mush one? You had the last one since you were 16... I think it's about time you moved into a new century." Sam said, pulling Styrofoam containers out of the bags.

Dean was quiet, abnormally so. He just gaped at Sam for a few seconds. "OKAY! I demand to know what the hell is up!"

"I figure you got your ass kicked around midnight... technically I think we can call that the traditional birthday spankings... but the waitress bartender did give me a number for you... so you can look forward to that!"

"That's not what I meant."

"Eat your dinner. We don't have a lot of time."

"Yeah, you said that... I know..."

"Nah, I figure we have just enough time to eat, pack, and haul ass before locals with pitchforks show up."

"Sam? What did you do?" Dean's stretched his words like it was a struggle to ask.

"You'd be surprised how cooperative the slackjaws who beat you were when I flashed a federal badge."

"Why did you risk all that... they could have..."

"You're my brother. And they were so willing to return the money and come with me to the station."

"You don't have a stat…"

"I know. Too bad I had to tie them all to the fence on that dirt road just out of town… in only their underwear. …."

"Oohhh.. COLD! "

"I got pics for later….Just don't blame me for the "I'm too Sexy underware."

"Sam Winchester you are a fine upstanding genteleman." Dean laughed, holding his side.

"Yeah, and we should eat and haul ass before someone finds them and puts it all together. It's a remote location, but they will be missed-- eventually."

"I'm not so sure. Their wives may be extremely happy at the moment."

"Humor me."

"Everyday... I'm a laugh riot." Dean would have made more smartass comments had he not noticed the faded receipt on the top of his container.

"What's in these?"

"Chicken and Dumplings." When Dean made a face, Sam resisted the urge to beam with cleverness. "What... you don't like them?"

"Shut up!" Dean toughed up, but then, he ever so subtly palmed the old receipt. He inhaled the warm steam coming off the container as he opened it, digging in the plastic take-out bag for a fork. And while Sam was buttering his roll, Dean slipped the new receipt in the same photo pocket with the old receipt before he shoved his wallet away. There was a small triumphant smile on his face.

Sam pretended not to notice. This was one time he wasn't going to bust Dean's chops. "Happy birthday." He muttered, stabbing a dumpling on his utensil, wondering how wonderful it would be to finally try the food Dean called his mother's best. He only wished they were their mother's birthday famous chicken and dumplings. As both brothers took large bites, they envisioned the best meal ever.

Sam forced himself to swallow and smile. "Hmmm….."

"Sam?" Smiling to himself, Dean leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"These are horrible. Like licking hairy road kill"

"Oh, thank God... I want to sandpaper my mouth."

"Dude, stay away from chicken! You aren't meant for each other and that's an order," He laughed.

"This is not funny!" Inside, he was glad his older brother remembered how much his 12-year-old self went through and could relate it to another failed attempt at a birthday surprise. The passing years had taken away the expectation and hope of that young boy, but somehow it made him remember why he always looked up to Dean.

"Oh, but it is!" Dean managed to squeeze out between chuckles."This borders on craptacular!" When he ended his fresh fit of laughter, Dean tried not to have too much fun, besides his ribs hurt when he chuckled. "I'm sorry, Sammy,"

"Sure you are."

Sam and Dean exchanged an amused glance. When Dean grinned and stifled a chuckle, Sam lost it, joining his brother in a chortle. "I'm thikin' the bar fight was safer than the food."

"Don't know about that. It's not safe having me for a brother."

"I'll take my chances."

"Me too."

"Me too? That's all you got?" Sam narrowed his gaze, but his eyes were lit with amusement.

"That's all you get when you try to poison me with this slop."

"You are so unappreciative!" He stated loudly, like he was overly pouting, but laughing like a fool. With that, Sam pitched the meal in the garbage, shaking his head. "Guess I still have a promise to keep.

"No… stop… I don't think my stomach will be able to take anymore." And this time he didn't notice as Dean mouthed a quiet thank you to his little brother. His eyes looked a bit wet, but he silently stuffed the idea of being so touched away, but this day would forever be a part of his collection of good memories- the few but highly prized.

THE END

Thanks for reading as always. I hoped you enjoyed it. Review like mad please... or I will... I will... uh.. heck... I'll just write more emo stories until someone tells me to stop. Let me know if you like it, if you please?