AN: This was a hard one to write, but I hope you enjoy

Betaed by the amazing Morgan!


There are the silent griefs which cut the heart strings.—John Ford

Letting go is one way of saying I love you—unknown

Sam walked down the empty highway. It was starting to get dark, but he didn't care. The deserted road stretched on endlessly, but he didn't care. Sometime in the last twenty minute it started raining, but Sam didn't care. None of it could touch him.

He let the hot tears fall unchecked. There was no one there to see them. He was alone. Sam had never felt more alone.

Headlights fell on him sending his tall shadow across the wet pavement, as a familiar rumble filled the air.

--

It had only taken Dean five minutes to decide to go after his baby brother, but it had taken him fifteen to actually find the wayward Winchester. He slowed the Impala when Sam came into view. As he pulled up along side his little brother he got his first good look at him.

Sammy was soaking wet from the already heavy downpour, long bangs clinging to his face. He was pale, and his brow furrowed with inner turmoil. Even the rain didn't hide the tears in those forlorn brown eyes. Sam looked so pitiful that even the monsters they hunted would feel a little bad about touching him. Like kicking a sad, wet puppy, Dean mused.

He rolled down the window not caring as the rain fell in on him.

"I can't go back Dean," Sam said, his voice pained.

"I know." And he did, but that didn't make it easier. "I'm not letting you walk."

--

The resignation in his brother's voice did nothing but shake the determination inside Sam. He needed to get away from their father and everything he stood for, and that meant leaving Dean too. Even if he didn't want too.

Sam pulled open the door, dropping into the passenger seat. The vinyl felt stiff against him, as if even the Impala knew he was leaving. This car—his only home—suddenly felt stifling, and Sam knew there was no going back. He laid his head against the window.

--

Dean stole glances at his brother as he drove. He saw the tears even though Sam tried to hide them. He knew how messed up Sam felt. The part of him that would always be the big brother wanted to comfort Sam, but the other part—the part that felt abandoned and hurt—kept him quiet. There was nothing left to say.

--

Sam came out of his reverie slowly. He didn't know how long they'd been sitting in front of the bus station, or how long Dean had been staring at him in silence. All he knew was the anger was slowly dwindling and all he could feel was the pain of loss.

He turned to his big brother and for the first time realized Dean couldn't fix it.

--

They didn't say anything just watched each other carefully, both wanting to move on but neither wanting to leave.

Sam slowly got out of the car, and the older followed. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the money he had, not even bothering to count it. He placed it in his younger brother's hand.

"Dean…"

"Sam don't…Just take it."

The young hunter nodded, his hand shaking slightly.

"I'm gonna get my ticket," he whispered.

"I'll be here," Dean replied.

--

Sam returned to find his brother. The youngest Winchester just barely remembered the time he went through his separation-anxiety stage. He clung to Dean, panicking whenever the older wasn't in sight. Then one day Sam lost track of him while they were shopping. It sent the toddler into a tail spin. He sobbed and sobbed until Dean found him, and pulled him into a tight hug. That day Dean promised Sam that he would always be there and looked at him with those eyes that meant the older was not just humoring him.

For the first time Sam realized that maybe that day at the super market had been just as hard on Dean.

"When's your bus leaving?" The older hunter asked. Sam noticed that he didn't say when are you leaving.

"Twenty minutes," the younger replied. He took a seat beside Dean, their shoulders just barely brushing.

"There's still two weeks before school starts," Dean commented as if they were talking about any other thing, except that Sam knew better. That one statement meant a lot of things, but to Sam one thing rang louder. His brother listened, remembered and of course worried.

"I'm gonna go to Pastor Jims till then," Sam answered the unspoken concern. "Maybe save up a little before I go to Palo Alto."

"You could stay."

Sam knew he didn't mean just for those two weeks.

"I can't Dean."

Silence fell between them. There had been a lot of silences in their lives, but this one wasn't as oppressive as Sam imagined it would have been. The silence wasn't cold or angry. It fell between them like a link, because they didn't need to speak. They silently soaked up each others presence, both painfully aware that they didn't know the next time they would see each other.

The bus pulled up far before either were ready to relinquish the connection. Sam stood turning to his brother, and realizing that they had never been truly separated before.

"I'll call you when I reach Pastor Jim's," the younger promised, because he knew Dean would worry until he did…but also because he needed it just as much.

"Take care of yourself Sammy."

They didn't say goodbye because they couldn't. Goodbye would be more permanent then either of them could handle at that moment. Sam stepped into his brother, and felt the familiar strong arms wrap around him. Strong arms that had lifted him up as a child, picked him up when he fell and held him when the nightmares got to real. Sam let himself sink into those arms for a moment before they pulled apart.

--

Dean squeezed his brother's shoulder tightly, trying to keep his face a mask and already knowing he was failing. All he could do was watch as Sam turned to leave. Dean couldn't help but feel that a part of himself had boarded that bus and left too.

--

Sam looked back at his brother from the window as the bus slowly pulled away. He watched until the Impala was little more than a speck in the distance. Pastor Jim was expecting him in three hours. The dear man was saddened by this turn of events, but not surprised. He would happily let Sam stay with him for the next two weeks, but after that Sam realized…he would be alone.

His father's cold words rung in his ears as the soft smell of leather and sweat faded from his nostrils. Sam laid his head against the cold rain beaten window and closed his eyes.