Choices

The bar was quiet, with nothing but the sounds of clinking glasses and casual conversation in the air. Dean and Caleb were trying to enjoy a rare night off, while Sam was hunkered down in the corner, picking at the label on his beer bottle. Dean kept looking over at him, obviously distracted, because he was losing, and Caleb had never once beaten the younger man in a fair game of pool.

"You know, unless Sam is about to pick a fight with the tabletop he is currently glowering at, he is gonna be fine." Caleb said.

Dean sighed, and lowered his cue, turning away from Sam and towards his best friend.

"Have you seen the kid?" Dean asked. "He barely eats, he never sleeps, and he is irritable as fuck. It's like he is fifteen all over again, and he is convinced everyone in the world is personally trying to ruin his life."

"He's grieving Deuce and he is lashing out at everyone around him, he'll get over it, just give him some time."

Dean huffed and spared a glance over at Sam who was rubbing his hand over his bruised eyes.

"Dad didn't." Dean said. "John Winchester was never the same man again Caleb. I mean I remember my Dad when he was happy… like genuinely happy. When Mom was still alive, he had a lightness about him…"

"Sam's not John."

"I don't know about that… growing up I did everything I could to make Sam's upbringing as normal as possible, and I looked to Dad to keep us safe, but I think eventually Sam just accepted Dad as someone who was usually gone, but not exactly a parent. Sammy always chose me, I chose Dad, but Dad chose Mom every single time."

Caleb placed his cue back on the rack and leaned against the bar.

"What's your point Deuce?"

"Sam can't keep choosing Jess. It'll destroy him. Eventually, he is gonna have to move on. I watched Dad get so buried in his secrets and this hunt that he lost who he was. I'm not gonna stand here and let grief destroy my brother."

Caleb watched Dean ring his hands on his pool cue, and looked over to Sam, who was watching his older brother with a concerned look, as if he noticed Dean's fear and discomfort. Sam's eyes met Caleb's cocking his head slightly; Caleb simply smiled softly and shrugged his shoulders trying to convey to Sam that everything was fine. Sam nodded once and went back to picking at his label.

"You know Dean, as alike a Sam and your Dad can act sometimes, I really don't think you have to worry about that."

Dean scoffed, not believing Caleb knew his brother better then he did.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, cause you are forgetting one thing."

"What's that?"

Caleb smirked and poked Dean in the chest.

"You. After everything that has happened, no matter where Sam was, he always chose you, and that something that will never change. It 's a part of who he is, no amount of grief will make him turn away from you."

Dean looked at Caleb with wide eyes.

"Do you think that'll be enough Damien?"

"Just wait. He is still the same little bitch he has always been, and when it comes down to it, he just wants his big brother to be proud of him."

"I've always been proud of him."

Caleb smirked knowingly.

"Even when he went to Stanford?"

Dean laughed softly, smiling when Sam looked over at him, a slightly sad, but still there smile gracing his face.

"Especially then."

The drive back to the motel was quiet, and as soon as they arrived Sam sank down onto his bed rubbing a hand over his tired eyes while Caleb made his way to the bathroom. The youngest Winchester reached out to open his laptop when a strong hand held it down against the table.

"Not tonight little brother." Dean whispered quietly.

Sam sighed and looked up at Dean, clearing his throat.

"Gotta find Dad Dean."

"We will, but not if you run yourself into the ground first."

Sam looked up at Dean with a glare, they didn't talk about it, the way Sam was acting. Talking had never been the Winchester way, and for once Sam was completely okay with that. He didn't want to talk about how broken he felt. It made him feel weak and exposed.

"What exactly do you want me to do Dean?" Sam asked irritably.

Dean sat down on the bed across from Sam's, letting their knees touch with a slight pressure, trying to send some kind of silent reassurance that he was with his brother through all of this.

"I want you to get some sleep."

Sam groaned and pressed his fingers into his temples, attempting to ease the ache that had built there from not enough rest and too much caffeine.

"It isn't that easy Dean…" Sam whined.

Dean swallowed and leaned down so he could see his brother's eyes beneath his chestnut bangs.

"I know that you are scared to sleep because you don't want to see her die again. I know you don't want to feel the flames licking your skin and her blood dripping on your face."

"You don't know shit Dean." Sam growled.

Dean nodded slightly but kept eye contact.

"Here is what I do know. I watched one of the most important men in my life lose his mind over the exact same thing. I watched him drown it in anger and booze and the hunt. I watched the bruises under his eyes get darker, and his shoulders get heavier. I can't watch that happen to you too Sammy."

Sam sniffled slightly and shook his head.

"I can't just move on like nothing happened, I can't just forget."

"I'm not asking you to forget."

"Then what the hell do you want from me?"

"I am asking you to let the guilt fall from your shoulders, so you can stand up tall again. I am asking you to sleep so you can have my back. I am asking you to survive this so we can find Dad. I am asking you to be here with me until we find this son of a bitch. You grieved Sammy, that's fine. Now I need you to remember the good things about her, and let that be the reason you fight."

Both brothers sat in silence while Sam contemplated his brother's words; it wasn't often that Dean was open and honest.

"I've got your back Dean." Sam finally answered.

Dean looked back, his expression showing no doubt in his brother's words.

"I know you do little brother."

Sam nodded his head; glad his brother knew that before letting out a yawn.

"I'm so tired Dean."

"So sleep."

"What if I dream?"

"Dream of something good, if anyone can force away a nightmare with sheer iron will it is Sam Winchester."

Sam smiled and closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall into a peaceful slumber. Somewhere in the distance he heard the quiet humming of a familiar tune.

And in his dreams, Sam and Jess sat on the hood of a beat up car over looking the San Fernando Valley enjoying each others silent company as the sun began to set, the quiet tune of Hey Jude playing in the background.