"Dean, I told you, I've got to get back by Mon…"

"Monday," The older brother turned and pressed his lips together, trying to hide his frustration, "right the interview. Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?"

"Maybe, why not?" Though younger, the taller of the brothers took a step forward, swinging his hands as he talked.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you what you do? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

"No," he cut in quickly, "and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy," Dean's eyes were wide with surprise. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

"And who's that?" Sam took quick steps to follow his brother as he started to walk up the bridge.

"You're one of us!" Dean exclaimed.

"No, I'm not like you," Sam lengthened his stride and maneuvered to stand in front of his brother. "This is not going to be my life!"

"You have a responsibility…"

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone and she isn't coming back."

Anger washed over Dean's face, and he used all of his strength to shove his brother up against one of the beams supporting the bridge. Sam felt his back slam into the metal bars and took a deep breath as he stared at his brother. They both knew he was right Dean just refused to give up the life he had always known. Dean re-gripped his hands around Sam's jacket.

"Don't talk about her like that," he finally muttered.

He forcefully let go of his hold and took a step back. His blood boiled as he met his brother's eyes again, fog from their warm breath mingling in the air. Thoughts of the night Sam left filtered through his mind. The fight had been ugly between Sam and their dad, and deep down, Dean had worried he would never see his brother again. Now here Sam was, wanting to keep his distance from the family yet again.

Before Dean could realize what his subconscious was thinking, his arm reared back and he punched Sam across the jaw. Sam stayed bent over, his hand coming to his face and working his jaw to check for injuries. He spit a wad of blood out, then stood quickly and returned the assault, his fist making contact with Dean's chin as the older brother tried to move out of the way.

They scuffled for a minute, hands and legs flying with expert precision, but no other blow was delivered after all the years they had trained against each other. Finally with a rough shove, Sam stepped back.

"What is your problem?" His chest heaved as he caught his breath.

"Why do you refuse to be part of this family?" Dean hollered into the night sky. "Huh? Can't you see we need you?"

"No, you don't! You've been perfectly fine without me the last three years, and you'll be fine finding Dad on your own."

"What about all those people getting attacked out there? You're just gonna let them die?"

"It was Dad who wanted to start hunting things, and we had no say in the matter. Now, I have a say, and I'm done!" Sam turned on his boot, walking away from his brother and the black family car sitting under one of the lamplights.

"Good luck on your interview," Dean taunted, but Sam kept going. "Hope your new Stanford family can put up with you, because I sure as hell won't anymore!"

As Sam reached the gravel road that led onto the bridge, metallic ringing floated above his head and a low, muffled grunt echoed after it as Dean leaned over, clenching his injured hand.

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After a two mile walk back into town, a taxi ride to the bus station, a cramped power-nap on the floor, and a few too many hours trying to get comfortable on the smallest bus seat ever, Sam arrived back at his apartment. It was early for Sunday on campus, and the over-achievers were executing their daily run while the walk-of-shame's quickly shuffled past with their heads down.

Sam took the stairs two at a time and quietly made his way into the room. He spied Jessica's sleeping form on the bed and smiled, all of his anger melting away as his heart swooned. He quickly unzipped his jacket and discarded his jeans before climbing into the bed and wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

Jessica jumped as she woke up. Sam kissed the crook of her neck and she rolled over with a grin on her face.

"Home already?" Jessica asked after planting a kiss on his lips. "Did you find your dad?"

"He'll be fine," Sam answered curtly, leaning in to cover her mouth. Jessica avoided him by tilting her head back, her eyes crinkling in concern.

"Sam…"

"I got into it with Dean and left," Sam huffed. He released his hold on her hip to reach up and wipe some hair off her cheek.

"You just left your brother?" There was so much confusion in Jessica's eyes, and Sam silently cursed his brother for sneaking into his window and messing everything up.

"It's really complicated."

"You always say that, Sam. This is your family we're talking about here."

"Yeah, well, I didn't have the fabulous upbringing that you did."

Jessica shifted out of her boyfriend's arms and sat up. Sam sighed loudly and flopped onto his back.

"We always get here, and you won't ever tell me about it. Sam, I love you, you know that I do. But I can't let this go."

When Sam couldn't come up with anything to answer, Jess pulled the covers off her legs and padded into the bathroom. The water pipes whirred to life as Jess turned the shower on. Sam continued to lie in bed, his mind churning.

Somewhere between being lost deep in thought and falling asleep, Sam startled at the knock on the door. He rolled his eyes, figuring Dean had followed him back. It wasn't like his brother to leave in the middle of a hunt, but he wouldn't put it past him. He swung the door opened and came face to face with his friend Brady.

"Brady! What are you doing up this early?"

Brady stood frozen in the hallway, his mouth hanging open. Sam shifted, getting ready to ask him what was wrong, but Brady smiled and clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Hey! You're back! Jess told us last night you were on a road-trip with your brother."

"Yeah, got back this morning," Sam opened the door further and let Brady into the apartment.

"How was it?"

"Oh same old, same old," Sam noticed that Brady seemed to be more nervous than usual. "Hey, are you good?"

"Yeah, yeah, still kinda drunk from last night I guess," Brady laughed and they moved into the next room to sit.

When Jessica got out of the shower, the three of them went for brunch at the local diner. After catching Sam up on the Saturday night events and parting ways, he and Jess returned to the apartment so Sam could get ready for his interview.

"Will you just tell me one thing?" Jess asked. They were both on the couch, Sam sitting on the end reading and Jessica laid out with her feet in his lap. "Are you sure your Dad is okay?"

"We were close, if Dean doesn't call soon I will check in to make sure." Sam kept his head ducked into his book. "But he spent a lot of time on his own, I trust he knows what he is doing."

"You mean hunting? I don't really get why you're so worried…"

"He does a lot of reckless things," Sam could feel his voice tensing along with his body.

"And you don't know where he is hunting? Or…"

"Jess!" Sam snapped his book shut.

"I'm sorry," Jess muttered.

"No, I'm sorry." Sam ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. "I will tell you things as you need to know them, and maybe one day I will fill you in on everything." He smiled at her even as she continued to watch him with wary eyes. "Come here."

Jess shifted herself over and curled her legs under her as Sam put his arm over her shoulders. He leaned in, playfully whispering in her ear and laying gentle kisses along her cheekbone.

"Don't think this conversation is over, Winchester." Jess laughed, trying to keep her anger afloat.

"I know it's not. But every fight needs a good make up." Sam nipped at her ear lobe. Jess turned her head and captured his lips.

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Later that night, after sitting down for dinner, Sam excused himself to the library to collect his thoughts for the interview tomorrow and make sure he had all of his stats up to date.

As he reached the corner of campus and the library came into view, Sam heard his phone begin to chirp. He paused by a few stone benches and pressed the green button to accept the call from his brother.

"Dean," Sam said coolly.

"Heya, Sammy," Dean laughed. "How ya doin?"

"It's Sam," Sam rolled his eyes.

"I know, I know, old habits die hard." He coughed harshly.

"Look, Dean, did you call for a reason? Did you get in touch with Dad?"

"What, I can't just call to talk after a hunt?"

"So you found Constance and you stopped her?"

"You could say that," Dean groaned as he spoke, and Sam felt himself straighten as an inkling made its way into his stomach.

"You sure you're okay?" Sam asked slowly.

"Sammy, look. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry. For pulling you back in when you got such a good life at Stanford. I just figured you would want to see me again and maybe try to talk to Dad, but…"

"Dean, what's going on?"

"I checked in on you a couple times last year, just to make sure you were safe. Dad told me he did too. So know that we were…" Dean's words died out as he coughed again.

"Hey, seriously, Dean…"

"Sorry, that damn ghost…she wouldn't go down easy. But we were always looking out for you, even if you didn't want us to."

Sam felt his legs give out and thankfully the bench caught his weight.

"Dean, are you…"

"Look, go find Dad. He wanted you to be happy and keep making him proud, but he could use your help. Don't be a bitch."

Something sounding like a splash echoed through the speaker.

"Dean? DEAN!"