Summary: It was two days before he found it at the bottom of his duffle. The book. The one he had read to Sam over and over and over.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warnings: None come to mind...

Author's Note: A quick, short, drabbleish thing inspired by an inscription I wrote in a friend's Green Eggs and Ham book. For you, Meghan. MWAH!

Sam-I-Am

Sam had been gone for two days – off to California, off to Stanford, off to normal.

And it was two days before he found it at the bottom of his duffle.

The book.

The book.

The one he had read to Sam over and over and over.

Sam...Sam...Sam-I-Am.

Five-year old Sammy had grinned and giggled, dimples and all, every time Dean had read it, convinced "Sam-I-Am" was his own personal nickname.

Dean sighed.

The orange cover was scratched, the corners were bent, the spine was wobbly...and the last page held a stowaway: a folded sheet of notebook paper serving as a bookmark.

Dean stared at it and swallowed against his dry throat; his unsteady, clammy fingers removing the paper; his eyes scanning the page.

There.

Circled at the bottom.

The annoying little bastard had finally tried the green eggs and ham and discovered that he liked them. He liked them so much he'd eat them in a box with a fox, in a house with a mouse, here and there and…anywhere.

"Thank you, Sam-I-Am!"

At least, that's what it used to say.

Someone had crossed out the quotation marks and added their own, had drawn a small arrow between "you" and "Sam-I-am," with the word "said" above it and underlined.

"Thank you," said Sam-I-Am.

And that was it.

That was all it took.

Dean felt tears sting his eyes even as he laughed hoarsely through the surge of emotion that flooded through him, reading between the lines as he had always done with his little brother.

Thank you, Dean. Thank you for loving me enough to let me go.

FIN