After a night of not sleeping, Sam packed up the Tahoe at 5 am. He drove, memorizing the map quest directions after reading them for the third time. By 8 am he pulled his SUV over in front of Dean’s house. It was in a rural area in California, but still pricey. Sam watched as a Porsche, with a blonde behind the wheel, zoomed out of the dirt drive, kicking up dust as she made it to the main road.

“It’s now or never,” Sam said to himself, and crept off the side of the road and into the drive. Tall grass was on each side of the drive-yellow and green mixed together. The drive was long and ended with a house that surprised Sam. The house had a stone front and over sized porch, with large glass double doors, and large windows. It was two floors with a three car garage attached. Sam figured the Impala had one of those spaces. To the side of the house there was barn with a penned in area. Two horses were in the area.

Sam parked his car in front of the garage, and made his way up the gravel walkway. The door was open, but the screen door remained closed. Dean was in the back of the house, and must have heard something because he yelled out,

“Tonya? Damn, girl, you told me I should rest. . .’ Dean turned around, placing his arm back into the sling. He smiled and then stopped, noticing that it wasn’t Tonya, but his brother at the door. He took a step forward. “Sam?”

Sam rubbed a hand down his face. He hadn’t seen his brother since graduation, a few months earlier. He hadn’t taken in the fact that Dean had changed. Thinking it over- Dean’s clothes were better, and he had confidence, not just a cocky swagger anymore. Sam had been blinded, always seeing Dean as the same with that sense of tragedy that surrounded him. He should have paid attention; instead he spent an hour with his brother and then told him he was going to celebrate with some of his friends. “Can I come in?”

Dean nodded, and in a few strides had undone the latch on the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. “Your arm?”

“It’s nothing,” Dean finished putting on the sling properly, wincing slightly as he adjusted the strap. “How did you know where to find me?”

Sam looked down at his feet, ashamed that he didn’t know his brother had this other life. “Daniel Foster.”

“Shithead,” Dean muttered under his breath. He turned around and padded with his bare feet into the sunken living room. He sat down on the leather chair.

Sam followed slowly, not sure if he had been invited in or not. “Told me some stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean looked up at Sam. “You can have a seat, dude.”

Sam went down the two steps and took the seat opposite his brother. “Why didn’t you tell me, you were his head of security for Foster Industries?”

Dean looked at the mantle, away from his brother. “You never asked.”

Sam followed his brother’s line of site. There were three photos on the mantle. Sam, Dean and John in one photo, an old picture of their mother and a picture of Daniel Foster, Dean and a few others laughing. “I just thought. . .”

Dean snapped his head back to his brother. “That you didn’t need me, and that I was in the past.” Dean stood up, taking a few steps closer to his brother. “Sam, you never asked what was going on in my life. You never called-nothing. Dude, I get it.” He tapped himself on the chest. “Took me awhile, but I get it.”

Sam stood up. “I’m sorry, I just thought, that you needed to move on . . . without me. I told you that you had to let me go.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders and went over to the mantle, resting one hand on the stonework. “Yeah, worked out for the best, I guess.”

“Dean, thank you isn’t enough.” Sam placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I mean for the money and job.”

Dean shrugged off the hand and shook his head, not facing his younger brother. “I don’t want thanks, Sammy. I want a family-you and me-my family. That was the way it was supposed to be.” His voice became low. “Do you ever think about anything? The hunt? Mom? Dad? Jess? Me? Somehow, it’s still important to me.”

“Yes, Dean, I think about it.” Sam replied matching his brother’s same low tone. “I’m not some freak that can just forget about it all.”

“You know I always thought that maybe I was the freak.” Dean lightly punched the stone wall three times. “The one that was truly fucked up, because my family was all that mattered and I would do anything, anything at all for you, Sam. Then when it was all over, there was nothing, and you left me hanging in the wind.”

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam wiped the tears that were brimming. “I just thought you were strong, and would be fine.” Sam touched his brother’s arm, trying to get him to turn around. “You were always the strong one, Dean.”

Dean turned and looked at his brother. The strength wasn’t physical, it was from his heart-he could love so much that it overcame all the bitterness, and the wrongs done to him. “And the handsome one too.” He grinned, lightly slapping Sam’s face.

“Dean,” Sam bowed his head. “Can you forgive me? I was stupid. . .”

Dean ruffled his brother’s hair. “You’ve been a fuckin’ idiot, Sammy.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m the big brother.” Dean had never relinquished the mantle of his childhood. Being a brother was always his life, his love and passion, and maybe he was supposed to be just a better brother than Sam, love him a little more than Sam loved Dean. If that was the case, then that was fine. Dean could accept this truism. Dean’s stomach growled in hunger. “You want some breakfast?”

Sam sniffed then coughed, ridding himself of the emotions of a moment ago. “Yeah, that would be good.” Sam smiled a smile of hope for a renewed brotherhood. “Is the Impala in the garage?”

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