Sam didn't know how he had let Jess talk him into going to this stupid Halloween party. It was just a bung of grubby, horny college kids at the local bar. He hated Halloween and she knew it. Yet for some, sick, twisted reason she was still trying to get him to enjoy it. His life had practically been a Halloween horror movie/nightmare alley growing up. When you live it, it tends to lose its appeal. Jess on the other hand reveled in this kind of fucked up shit. She got into the sexy, slutty costumes and scary movies with a bizarre fervor. She claimed it was because it was a break from school but he didn't believe her.

Because here she was, at a pub crawl, talking about school. She was busy telling Luis all about how Sam had passed the LSAT with flying colors and about his interview on Monday. Luis, for his part looked suitably interested and impressed while also not giving a shit. Sam smiled to himself and downed his third shot of the night.

"How does it feel to be the golden boy of your family?" Luis chuckled taking another shot and slamming it down on the table.

"Ah, they don't know." Sam smiles, chugging his fourth shot, and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, no, I would be gloating! Why not?" Luis looks genuinely confused. Sam sighs internally; explaining his family situation is always awkward.

"Because we're not exactly the Bradys." Sam says as if that explains everything. As if it would explain his father drunkenly yelling at him to stay gone. As if it explained Dean watching, visibly upset, but doing nothing, as Sam walked out of his life forever.

"And we're not exactly the Huxtables." Luis says pointedly, telling Sam what a shitty excuse that was. "More shots?" Luis says when he realizes that Sam isn't going to elaborate. Sam can tell that Luis has no grasp on how bad things actually are in his family.

"NO!" Jess and Sam laugh comfortably, watching while Luis goes to get some more alcohol and bad decisions. When he returns, Luis claps Sam on his shoulder as he slides into his seat.

"So golden boy, Bradys or not, you got to rub this in your family's face." Jess smiles encouragingly, never having met Sam's family. He hadn't even explained them to her. "Its like a rite of passage…or something." He mumbles into his beer.

"That would be bad all around." Sam laughs hesitantly and rubs the back of his neck, ruffling up the hair there.

"Why?" Luis asks and takes another shot.

"Well…my dad sort of kicked me out when I said that I got into Stanford." Jess and Luis balked. "He told me that if I walked out of the door I better never come back and Dean…" Sam's voice cracked and he looked away. "He just watched me walk away. Didn't even try to stop me. Didn't say goodbye or anything. I haven't heard from them in four years. Besides, Dean never even graduated high school. I think this just might drive the wedge of resentment deeper."

While the others vocalized how horrible this must have been, a realization hit Sam. Dean had never resented him. Sam had resented Dean. He loved Dean, he did, but he had always felt like Dean babied him. Sam had resented how cool under pressure Dean was, how easily likeable and charming he could be and how good he was in a fight. Dean had loved Sam like he was his own son. Sam frowned into his beer, wondering if perhaps Dean resented him now.

XXX

Jess stirred in the bed beside him and Sam froze in response. He blinked a moment and she settled down. Sam lay there contemplating his life. He missed Dean. He hadn't really had time to think about it in years. The first couple of months at Stanford without his big brother were crippling. Sam would never admit to curling up in one of Dean's old t-shirts that still smelled of the Impala and crying himself to sleep. He'd been 18, alone in the big bad world by himself for the first time in his life.

It was reasonable but still humiliating.

Dean had always been there to take care of him. And now, nearly five years later Sam didn't need him. That was a sobering thought. Sam could take care of himself, thank you very much! But he still missed his brother. Dean was stubborn and brave and more of a father to him than John had ever been. John had been all about making sure that Sam survived while Dean made sure that his Sammy lived.

Sam was so wrapped up in these thoughts that he almost didn't hear it.

A window sliding carefully open in the main room. Sam's eyes snapped open and he slid out of bed quietly, grabbing Jess' baseball bat as he went. A window was open in the living room. A window that he knows was closed when they got home. Quiet footsteps fall from the kitchen and Sam ducks behind the wall, watching as a shadow passes through the beaded doorway.

The intruder sighed dramatically and walked casually into the living room. Sam swung the bat. Lightning fast, the invader ripped it from his hands and threw it casually across the room. Sam lunged forward and grabbed the man's shoulder. The stranger knocked Sam's arm away and aimed a strike at Sam, who ducked. The man grabbed his arm and turning him, shoved him back.

A kick is blocked and the two entered fully into the living room. The man elbowed Sam in the face and Sam kicked at his head. The stranger was he ducked and took another swing and miss. Frustrated he went for a full body tackle and knocked Sam to the ground, pinning him down and holding his hands.

"Whoa, easy, tiger." A cocky voice laughs and Sam nearly cries with relief. It had been years but it was a voice he knew better than his own. It was almost as though his thoughts had summoned his brother.

"Dean?" He grunts and frowns at his brother, illuminated by the moonlight. Dean looks better than he had at 22. Though Sam supposes that the last they saw each other, Sam had been skipping town after a hunt. Dean had been bloody and bruised and the stress of Sam and John's argument hadn't helped.

Dean laughed, snapping Sam out of his poorly timed flashback. "You scared the crap out of me!" Sam scowled. Dean laughed again and stood, holding out a hand to his baby brother.

"That's 'cause you're out of practice." Sam grabbed his hand and yanked his brother down to the ground; heel to Dean's back, rolling on top of him. "Or not." Dean grunts and flashes his trademark winning smile. "Now get off of me." Same rolled his eyes and pulled his jerk brother up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asks, pleasantly surprised to find that Dean is much shorter than him now.

"Well, I was looking for a beer." Dean chuckles brushing the back of his pants off. Sam scowls and Dean sighs. "Okay. All right. We gotta talk."

"Uh, the phone?" Sam sighs, already falling back into disapproving of his brother.

"If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?" Dean challenges and his eyes flash in a dangerous way they didn't use to. And it sends chills down Sam's back. Sam frowns guiltily and Dean smirks smugly. The light flickered on and they turned to see Jess pushing back the beads and looking at them in confusion.

"Sam?"

"Jess." Sam had never wanted her to meet his brother but it seemed as though it was too late for that. "Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Dean, lecher that he was, eyed her up and down.

"Wait, your brother Dean?" Jess asked shocked, half-smiling when Sam nodded.

"Oh, I love the Smurfs." Dean says smirking at her cleavage peeking through a smurfs tee. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league." He laughs at Sam's scowl.

"Just let me put something on." Jess murmurs, turning to go, feeling completely exposed and awkward.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously." Dean smirks, walking towards Sam without looking away from her. Sam watched him impassively. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No." Dean turns in shock at the steel in Sam's voice. Sam shrugged away from his brother, walking towards Jess and wrapping his arms around her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

Sam can see a coldness creeping into Dean's gaze. He eyes them calculatingly, knowing that Sam would never tell Jess that he was a hunter. Not if he could help it.

"Okay." Dean says at last, finally finding the right words. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." Sam snaps. He sees the scary glint in Dean's eyes again. Dean had always hated how difficult it was for Sam and John to get along. And he always took Johns side in an argument.

Sam realized that he had been raising his brother on a pedestal for years. Despite the resentment he had still worshipped him. It was only now that he was back that he remembered all of Dean's faults. Dean was a blind, mindless soldier, always doing exactly what their dad said.

Never once challenging his authority.

Dean ducked his head as if aware that his eyes were shining his anger. When he looked back up he looked like an innocent, worried son again. Sam swallowed, worried and slightly scared by how improved Dean's acting skills had gotten.

"Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days." Sam's eye twitches and Jess looks at him confused and slightly suspicious.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

XXX

Sam sighed, packing his duffel bag. He pulled out a large hook-shaped knife and slides it inside just as Jess walked in.

"Wait, you're taking off?" She blinks at him in confusion. "Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"

"Yeah. You know, just a little family drama." Sam smiled placating. Jess frowns at him slightly.

"Your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip." She's fishing for answers, he knows but he's not ready to tell her. He sees the wheels turning in her head, trying to put the puzzle pieces together.

"Oh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin; he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. I'm just going to go bring him back." He lies, hating how easy it is and mentally wincing at those ridiculous names.

"What about the interview?" She says, changing topic but by no means forgetting it.

"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days." He slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door.

"Sam, I mean, please." He stopped and sighed. "Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?" Sam laughs a little at that. No he is not okay.

"I'm fine."

"It's just...you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal." She's fretting and he thinks its adorable.

"Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise." He smiles and kisses her cheek before leaving.

"At least tell me where you're going!" she calls after him.

XXX

Sam doesn't understand what is happening. Dean's always hated police; he'd been nabbed too many times not too, and they weren't in the know about the supernatural. But now it seems like he's being overly rude.

He's trying too hard.

And it's not just this either. He bought a ton of junk at the gas station like always but Sam saw him eyeing the healthier stuff. And with the cassette tapes of all his favorite music. Sam didn't miss the way he winced when the tape started. It's like Dean was trying too hard to be himself.

Trying to be the Dean that Sam remembered.

Sam wondered about what happened to that Dean if he had to try to be himself. As if that old Dean was dead.

XXX

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—" Sam starts as they search the bridge.

"Monday. Right. The interview." Dean sneers.

"Yeah." Sam says, scowling.

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean snarls, shooting Sam a nasty glance. If Sam wasn't so upset he would have noticed that it lacked the usual heat.

"Maybe. Why not?" Sam snapped. He already had the ring. The last thing he needed right now was Dean's disapproval.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean snapped, looking over the bridge railing into the river. Sam stepped closer and Dean paused to look up at him, his eyes suspicious. Distantly Sam wondered what his brother had been through that would make him distrust even his baby brother.

"No, and she's not ever going to know." Sam says with finality.

"Well, that's healthy." Dean rolls his eyes. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Sam feels like Dean is talking more to himself than to Sam. Dean turns and keeps walking.

"And who's that?" Sam follows automatically. This was the way life had always been. Dean led and Sam followed.

Well not anymore.

"You're one of us." Dean says after a pause.

"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life." Sam snarled, grabbing Dean's arm to look him in the eye.

"You have a responsibility to—"

"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." He expected Dean's overreaction.

What he didn't expect was the few seconds it took, as if Dean were calculating how he would normally react in a situation like this. He grabbed Sam by the collar and shoved him into the bridge railing.

"Don't talk about her like that." He snarls but the anger isn't the same. It's all teeth and no bite.

XXX

The motel door swings open. Sam stands, having just picked the lock. Dean is outside, playing lookout, until Sam reaches out of the room to grab his shoulder and yank him inside. They look around, nearly every surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

"Whoa." Sam says thinking that perhaps their dad had finally lost what little sanity he had left. He turned to see Dean turn on a light by the bed and pick up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there. His nose wrinkled in disgust. Sam stepped over a line of salt on the floor, still eyeing his suspicious brother.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." Dean says tossing the burger into the garbage can. Sam touched the salt ring on the floor and looks up.

"Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in." Dean sighed wearily and approached the wall covered in paper.

"What have you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims." Dean grunts, his eyes flying over the newspaper clippings. "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

While Dean talks, Sam looks at the papers taped to the other walls. There's something about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal man blowing a horn at several scared individuals with the note "MORTIS DANSE", a column about "Devils + Demons", another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed", a wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" above a printout of the Jericho Herald article on Constance's suicide.

"Dad figured it out." Sam whispers to himself. He turns to see a pale Dean reading the column about Devils+Demons. He looks like he had just seen a ghost…or what a normal person would look like in that scenario. "Dad figured it out." Sam says louder. Dean rips his gaze from the article and turns to Sam, smiling and pretending like nothing had happened.

Though his face is ashen and his eyes look haunted. Sam eyes him suspiciously.

XXX

It took Dean longer than usual to respond to the call of 'Jerk' with what should be an automatic 'Bitch.' Sam was starting to worry. He sat on the motel bed after just having left Jess a voicemail. Dean came slinking out of the bathroom, clean once again. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and another slung over his left shoulder as he rummages through his duffle. Sam pretends to be interested in his phone but he sees the towel on Dean's shoulder slip.

He barely suppresses a gasp at the burned handprint on Dean's shoulder. It looks like it would have hurt. And it looks newly healed. The skin still pink and bubbly. A month old, Sam guesses.

He's right about to ask about it when Dean stiffens as if sensing Sam's eyes on it. Dean turns and slams his way into the bathroom, taking the whole duffle bag with him. Sam wonders just what the hell his brother has been into these last few years.

XXX

When they were fighting Constance there had been a moment when she and Dean made eye contact and she had flinched. Sam was getting more and more suspicious of his brother by the minute. As they drive back to Stanford with a busted light Sam follows their dad's coordinates on a map. He notices how distant Dean seems, staring out the window and seeing nothing. Sam wonders for the first time if Dean is really as okay as he's always seemed.

"Hey Dean," he says as they pull up to the apartment. Dean grunts and looks at him, his eyes look tired and weary beyond his years. "Why don't you crash here tonight? We have a spare bedroom that will do you good. You look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages."

"Okay thanks." Dean sighs, pulling the keys out of the ignition and getting his duffle out of the trunk. Sam watches him and notices that all of his movements seem to be slowed and tired. Old Dean would have protested at Sam taking care of him. Even when he was tired he was still stubborn and angsty.

Sam wondered briefly, as he unlocked his apartment, if Dean had even noticed that his façade had slipped.

The first thing he notices is a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that reads "Missed you! Love you!" He picks one up and eats it as he sneaks into the bedroom, smiling. Dean had headed straight towards the guest bedroom and closed the door.

The shower is running in Sam's room and he hears Jess humming to herself. Sam sits on the bed, shuts his eyes, and flops onto his back. He closes his eyes and sighs, feeling tension drain from his shoulders.

He sniffs and frowns, sitting up in confusion. The smell of Jess' perfume is heavy in the air but there is another smell. Fainter and much more foul. Sulfur. Hours old by the smell of it. Jess walks out of the bathroom in her robe, towel drying her hair. "Hey baby!" She smiles warmly.

He eyes her uncertainly. Dean's been keeping him on edge for ages and he can't drop the suspicion, even here.

"Jess why does it smell like sulfur?" Fear flickers in her eyes and she tries to cover it up, saying that a friend was doing a science experiment. Sam sighs and flops back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The more he stares at it, during her poor explanation, the more shapes start to take shape under the posters she's tacked up there. "Jess." He pauses, interrupting her. "Why is there a pentagram on the ceiling?"

Jess freezes and he looks at her. Her eyes are wide in shock and fear and she swallows loudly. Sam sits up, leaning on his elbows. She glances at him and then at the door as if calculating her chances of escape. Sam quirks an eyebrow. They both know that he's faster than her and with the sound of dinking around in the guest room, she had little chance of escape.

"Babe." He swallows thickly. "Why is there a devil's trap on the ceiling above our bed?" her eyes flicker to him in shock. She eyes him calculatingly and they both hesitate.

Jess seems to come to a decision as she rushes over to the bed and he flinches, back hitting the headboard. She pauses and stays at the edge of the bed, right under the border of the devil's trap.

So not a demon then.

"This is gonna be hard to explain so I need you to listen and not interrupt. Can you do that?" Sam nods, unease fogging his brain.

"I'm a hunter." She states. He blinks. His mind clears and he almost laughs for not seeing it before. "There are things out there Sam. Supernatural things. Monsters and demons and I hunt them. I stop them from hurting people. Or well…from hurting more people. They all seem to get a kick out of killing and/or eating people. So I kill them before they can kill again. Er…I used to before college. I'm kinda out of practice here. It smells like sulfur because there was…why are you laughing?"

Sam only laughed harder, wiping tears from his eyes as he gasped for breath. Jess stared at him indignantly. "I am serious, Sam! I know this sounds crazy but I promise you that I'm not crazy!" Sam just laughs again and pulls her into a kiss. She gawked at him before sitting back and eyeing him warily.

"I knew I loved you for a reason." He laughs.

"Babe…"

"I'm a hunter too." He smiles, taking pity on her confusion. She laughs with him this time, flopping onto the bed and laughing at the trap above them. They laugh at the bizarre-ness of their lives.

"Or I used to be…as well." He flops onto his stomach next to her. "I never liked hunting so I tried to get out of the life. But it seems like Dean and my dad are trying to pull me back in."

"So…" Jess frowns looking at him. "Dean?" he looks at her in confusion. "Dean Winchester. Son of John and Mary Winchester?"

"Yeah." Sam props himself onto his elbow and looks down at her. "Jess what's wrong?"

"I always thought the names had to be a coincidence but I guess not." She murmured, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"Jess what's wrong?" a small pit of unease had blossomed since Dean's arrival and Jess' scared and confused face was making it explode.

"I'm not a hunter anymore but I'm still in the know about things going on. Sam…I've heard about your brother and your father. They're scary good. They're the best hunters out there. The other hunters are actually scared of them. Whenever someone mentions them, people cross themselves."

Sam's eyebrows reach impressive heights. He'd always known his dad was ruthless but learning that Dean was like that too…it was concerning.

"And if that wasn't bad enough…." Jess swallowed and sat up. "Word spread about five months ago that Dean was…"

"What?" Sam gasped in shock.

"Dead."