Author's Note: I've been feeling somewhat sad and nostalgic thinking about days gone by. Sometimes I find that you just need to take a moment to reflect back upon the past and grow from it. That's where this piece came from. Set during Sam's time in Stanford. Please enjoy!

"Halfway up the stairs isn't up and isn't down

It isn't in the nursery, it isn't in the town

And all sorts of funny thoughts they run through my head

It isn't really anywhere, it's somewhere else instead."

—Diana Panton, "Halfway Down The Stairs"

The first night he's at Stanford is one of the hardest.

He's never slept apart from his big brother before.

Countless nights spent in the backseat of the Impala when he was little, dozing on his big brother's lap, followed by his teenage years of sharing motel rooms with Dean, have made him accustomed to falling asleep to the steady rhythm of his brother's breathing. It's something that embodies home to him, which makes him feel safe and secure. With Dean nearby, Sam could let his guard down.

Now, in the dorm room he shares with a roommate he barely knows, he finds himself staring upwards at the popcorn ceiling. Brady seems nice—friendly even—but Sam's grown up learning not to trust those around him. It would take more than one day to change his thinking regarding that.

He really needs to go to sleep. He's got an early morning English class to attend, followed by Biology 215 and then one of his many pre-law classes. He has to also track down a few textbooks and buy a few more school supplies. He needs to find a job too. The scholarship will only cover so much and it wouldn't hurt to start building a little nest egg just in case. If he could only quiet his mind and get some rest! He can't afford to stay awake half the night, tossing and turning.

Sam made his choice willingly. He wanted this chance—this shot at being normal, at achieving his dreams of having a perfect job with a house and a wife and hopefully, kids.

But . . .

He misses his brother. When he left that night—after screaming his voice raw—Sam didn't think he would miss his family. John had made his displeasure about Stanford clearly known and Dean had said nothing—the silence probably hurt the most—and the youngest Winchester figured that was the end of it. He would become a lawyer, settle down and that would be the end of it. He wouldn't see Dean or John ever again and he's made peace with that—

That's a lie though.

He hadn't wanted to be a hunter, but his past hadn't been entirely bad. John had loved him in his own way. Sure, his father may have never shown up to soccer games or science fairs, but he'd ruffle Sam's hair and smile at him. That smile conveyed all the words John would never say—I'm proud of you, I love you—and it brought Sam solace during those nights when his life felt unbearable.

As for Dean, well, his oldest brother was always cracking jokes, taking him on joy rides or helping him train. Unlike John, Dean was a talker. Dean would say anything and everything that came to his mind. From comments about girls that caught his eye—you see her, Sammy? She's amazing!—to taunts during hunts—bring it on, you bastard!—Dean was always talking a mile a minute. He filled silences with words, with animated expressions and now that Sam is finally on his own, he's starting to understand that silence isn't always golden. He misses his brother's voice. He misses the way it could strike fear in one minute and bring joy in the next.

He misses Dean.

Sam could call Dean. His brother would pick up—Dean always picks up—but that would mean caving and admitting that his dream of attending college isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Dean would urge him to come home and right now, Sam might just give in. He's lonely. If he's honest with himself, he's a bit scared too. Being a new city with no support system and no backup plan is more terrifying than any monster he's faced.

But, deep down, he knows that no matter how much suffering he might endure, he won't give up. This is what he wants. This is his dream and he'd be a fool to turn back now. What would Dean and John even say if he came back? John might never forgive him—if you walk out that door, don't you dare come back!—and he can't even begin to imagine what Dean would say. His older brother might welcome him back with open arms or maybe he'd be too upset with Sam to speak to him again.

The possibilities make his head spin.

Brady snores softly. His bed creaks as his roommate moves in his bed. It's a different sound from Dean. It's jarring and part of Sam is screaming out to run away from this unfamiliar place and to go back home.

Sam won't quit though.

He will become a lawyer. He will be normal. If Dean and John can't accept that then that's on them. Though it grieves Sam more than he will ever admit, he won't break down and call them. He'll do this on his own.

Sleep might be a lost cause tonight, but one day, it will come. As the time passes, the memories will become less painful, less sharp. He'll make new friends and have new experiences here. Slowly, he'll start to rebuild his life.

For now though, he'll just pull out his phone and stare at Dean's name.

And slowly, the memories will whisk him away into the realm of sleep.

Author's Note: This fills my "homesickness" square for my hurt/comfort bingo. I plan on filling more squares soon so look forward to more stories. I hope you enjoyed this story! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!