A/N: This story goes AU after season 5 but will contain spoilers through season 8. Also, though it is a huge spoiler for the story, I feel I should warn you that this will (eventually) contain major character death, but I like to think it has some moments of hope to make up for the angst ;)

General disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the title which comes from Lykke Li's song Possibility.

The first time I met the mysterious Sam Winchester was for my wedding. Can you believe that? My husband-to-be's brother and only remaining family, and I didn't even have a face to put to the name until I was already running around trying to get all the flower arrangements out in the right places and trying to communicate to the catering firm that, no, my vegan hippie cousins did not in fact eat fish.

When Dean and I first started dating he hardly ever talked about his brother and I figured they weren't that close. All he told me was that they had been in the family business (Personal Investigators, apparently) together, but after he busted his knee he couldn't continue, and his brother had to anyway. Dean didn't say that Sam didn't want to leave the family business. He said he couldn't. That was the kind of commitment to work you just don't see a lot of, and frankly it made me a bit uncomfortable. Maybe they had big-time daddy-related guilt and obligation issues. Based on the few stories Dean told about his father, that seemed a very likely conclusion.

When Dean and I started spending more and more time together I soon realised that the elusive brother played a larger role in his life than I had previously assumed. They spoke on the phone several times a week. Short conversations, usually, and the ones I managed to eavesdrop on by way of my extraordinary stealth only revealed that Dean did most of the talking, and it consisted of exaggerated descriptions of various neighbours and towns-people, exaggerated compliments about my own lucky person, and exaggerated worrying about the man on the other end of the line expressed mostly through semi-aggressive admonishments and insults about the other man's intelligence.

When Dean and I moved in together I caught him lying awake in the middle of the night after one of those conversations, the crease between his eyebrows indicating that the exaggerated worrying continued into the small hours of the morning. Then the same thing happened again. And then another time, and another, until I realised that the enigmatic Samuel probably occupied more of Dean's attention than I did. I asked Dean about it and he said it was just the way things were; he worried about Sam because Sam was his little brother and Sam had a dangerous job and a somewhat destructive personality. End of discussion.

It was early afternoon two days before the wedding, and most of the preparations were done. Which meant there was a moment to relax. Which wasn't all that relaxing, seeing as my parents and my older brother and younger sister were all staying for dinner to 'help', and my family was a bit notorious for… arguments. I liked to think it was the way we showed love, but it didn't really feel like it most of the time.

My parents liked Dean well enough. He was polite and took impeccable care of their car free of charge. My brother liked Dean too, more because he liked classic rock and enjoyed beer. Mark was the office type, so I think he liked the contrast Dean made to his other friends. My sister liked Dean because he's really fucking gorgeous and can charm your socks off with one little smile. As long as they like him, right…

Maybe because they like him, they didn't spare him the entertainment of watching Mother tell Mark it's time for him to find a suitable woman and settle down as well, which made Lily go into a rant about gender stereotypes and maybe Mark didn't want to settle down or maybe he was gay and looking for a suitable man, which made Mark splutter indignantly that he was most certainly not, which made Lily ask him if he was homophobic which made Dad try to redirect the conversation by asking if Lily had made any progress in finding a job, and so on. It was sort of loud. But then there was a lull in the conversation and the deep rumble of a car could be heard from outside, and Dean snapped to attention for the first time since he had zoned out thirty minutes previously.

"Sam's here!" he announced and gestured for me to get off his lap so he could push himself out of the armchair. Sometimes he grumbled that his stiff knee made him feel like he was eighty years old. I told him it made him mysterious (mostly because he wouldn't tell me how it happened) and then he winked at me and seemed to forget all about it.

"How do you know?" I asked, getting to my feet.

"I can hear the car," he said, like it should be obvious, and limped towards the front door. I hesitated only a second before I sat back down, deciding to give the brothers some privacy. To my knowledge they hadn't seen each other at least for the six months I had known Dean (I know what you're thinking. Six months, so quick! But hey! True love and YOLO and all that, right?).

Part of me was itching to find a window so I could spy on them if Dean went outside, but my devious planning proved superfluous as the doorbell rang just as Dean reached it, and he yanked it open revealing a tall, tall, tense, muscular but gaunt-looking man with hair longer than mine, and worn clothing. He didn't look inside the house, just at his brother, drinking in the sight of him like a starved man. Dean had his back to me, but I'm willing to bet he looked the same.

"Dean!" the tall, tall man said after a few seconds, and it was a sigh of relief accompanied by something like a sag forward.

"Sammy!" Dean acknowledged in a thick voice I hadn't heard him use before, not even when he teared up a bit on the evening we got engaged. Then he pulled his brother into a hug and Sam rested his chin on Dean's shoulder, eyes squeezed close, and holding on like Dean was grounding him in the present.

Maybe it was because of the unaccustomed silence in the living room, or the not so discreet way my entire family was regarding the somehow rather heartbreaking scene that was unfolding in front of us, but the hug seemed to go on for minutes before they stepped back from each other. Dean kept a hand on his brother's shoulder as he regarded him.

"Look at you Sammy!" he said, still in that thick voice. "What have you done to yourself, huh? Did it ever occur to you that you might, I don't know, cut your hair, or eat an actual meal, or stop to sleep sometimes?" I realised some of the strange quality of Dean's voice was self-reproach. Was he somehow blaming himself for the fact that his grown brother was mistreating himself?

"I've… uh… been busy," Sam looked suddenly uncomfortable, probably because he caught sight of a family of five staring unabashedly at him, and he pushed a hand through his hair to get it more firmly out of his face.

Dean followed his line of vision, and turned to lead Sam back into the living room, keeping a hand on his upper arm. With a visible effort, Sam's features had relaxed into something more friendly and approachable. It was quite fascinating how he did that, actually.

"This is my brother Sam, and this is Emily, and her family, Richard, Judy, Mark and Lily," Dean gestured as he spoke. Sam's eyes travelled across the new faces, and he nodded politely at each, though a flash of something painful crossed his features as he reached Lily, and he quickly moved on.

"It's very nice to meet you all," he said, and directed the next part at me. "I'm sorry I haven't been by to meet you sooner, but I've heard a lot about you," he gave me a smile. The first one since he'd arrived.

"All good I hope," I joked lamely. There was something strange and distant about him that made me a bit unnerved, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It might have been the way his eyes flickered around the room a bit nervously every few seconds, or the way Dean's squeeze of his arm seemed to bring him back to the present.

"Yep, all good," he confirmed, and his smile widened teasingly as he directed it towards Dean instead, revealing the hints of dimples in his cheeks. Dean scratched the back of his head, looking a bit embarrassed, and gave Sam a shove towards the empty sofa.

"Sit down! I'll get you something to eat," he said.

"It's past lunch time. I'll wait for dinner," Sam assured him, but he followed orders and sat on the couch.

"Oh, and you had lunch, did you? And breakfast?" Dean asked sarcastically, and Sam looked sheepish.

"I'll make you a couple of sandwiches," I hurried to say, thinking it better not to separate the brothers so soon after arrival.

"Thanks," both of them said at once, Dean with a genuine smile, taking a seat next to his brother, and Sam with a forced one, running a hand through his hair again and looking like he'd rather be almost anywhere else, but still orienting himself on the couch so that his knee knocked together with Dean's, clearly seeking out the physical contact.

Our house has an open design, so I could hear the conversation from the living room as I was in the kitchen.

"You gonna let me cut this before you turn into a girl?" Dean said, presumably talking about hair.

"Sure," came the reply. And then there was awkward silence.

"So, Sam, you work as a private investigator?" my father tried. Ever the mediator.

"Yeah, that's right."

"What was your last case?" Lily asked excitedly. She was probably underway with shifting her unrequited crush from my fiancé to his even more mysterious and suitably damaged brother.

"Ah that's… kind of confidential I'm afraid. But it had to do with family lines and heirs. Inheritance related."

Dean found this amusing for some reason, and laughed.

"Slow week?" he asked.

"Sort of. It was just something I did on the way over here. I didn't want to drive straight through from Seattle."

"What's it like living on the road like that?" Lily chirped up again. "It must be exciting!" she was going through something of a delayed (at 22) teenage rebellion at the moment.

"Not… really, I mean… Dean could tell you about it better, I'm sure," Sam replied haltingly, clearly uncomfortable with what he probably didn't realise was a very mild version of the Spanish inquisition my family usually charged new people with.

I returned to the living room with two large sandwiches.

"Thank you," Sam told me, genuinely grateful this time, and finished the first one almost before I had time to sit down in the only empty chair. Dean eyed him critically the whole time he ate, disapproval clear, probably due to the fact that he had allowed himself to get this hungry in the first place.

My mother filled the brief interlude with recommendations on what I should pack for our honeymoon. Thanks mom.

When Sam had swallowed the last bite he actually looked a bit better.

"That was really good!" he said so earnestly he almost made me blush.

Dean interrupted what was sure to be another awkward silence.

"You want me to have a look at Baby while you're here? Tune her up a bit?"

"Why do you even ask me? You're gonna do it anyway." I got a first look at those dimples in all their glory, and noted with amusement that Lily was completely mesmerised with that gooey look that's both cute and disgusting.

"Damn straight I am!" Dean assured with an equally radiant smile. "And you'd better hope you've taken good care of her."

"You probably won't think so, but I've tried. I even took her to Bobby a couple of times to have him look at her. Is Bobby coming by the way?"

"Yeah, he's coming tomorrow. Since you're the best man, he's got his work cut out for him trying to fill up my side of the church all on his own," Dean smirked, but Sam's face suddenly closed off.

"Church?" he asked quietly.

"Let's go look at Baby!" Dean decided abruptly.

Sam nodded and stood up, dragging his brother up as well, and they disappeared out the front door without a backwards glance.

"I'm going to assume 'baby' is a car?" Mark asked, in comical consternation, and we all burst out in giggles, revelling in the relief from the tension.

…

The kitchen had a good view of the driveway where a large black muscle car was parked (the car definitely looked like a man to me, so whoever decided to name it Baby…). That was probably why my entire family flocked to the kitchen when it was suddenly time to cook dinner two hours earlier than usual, really going out of their way to look like they were being useful even though they weren't.

We were spying.

At first Dean was buried under the hood, periodically caressing parts of the car in a somewhat disturbing manner. Sam had his hands buried in his pockets, occasionally looking at something inside the engine when Dean pointed it out to him.

After a while Dean looked over at his brother who seemed lost in thought, leaning against the side of the car. Dean said something and Sam nodded, going to the trunk and pulling out a green cooler which he put on the ground by the front right tire and from which he then produced two beers. Dean closed the hood and they both leaned against it, nursing their beers and occasionally saying something. We had beer in the fridge, so I guessed the whole process had some sort of significance to them.

It wasn't until Lily spoke that I realised we were all looking out the window and nobody was actually keeping up the pretence of cooking anymore.

"Maybe we could crack open the window just a little bit?" she said hopefully, indicating with her fingers just how little of an opening she was asking for. Nothing really. And we were about to cook - sometime in the near future - and ventilation is important. So I cracked the window open just a little bit. Mark gave a small cough, and Lily gestured at him frantically to be silent. Totally casual family cooking. Thank god the street outside was silent too or we wouldn't have heard them no matter how much we strained.

"…understand that Em's religious and, you know…" Dean trailed off with a shrug.

"And you're okay with that?" Sam sounded genuinely surprised.

"It's not like she goes to church every week or anything. If it's what she wants… I just didn't want to make a deal of it. Seemed unnecessary."

Sam snorted.

"How bad is it?" Dean asked, switching back to concern.

"Look… I'll do it if I have to but… I'm here now. Maybe I should just take off tonight. You could call Cas or something, he loves churches," Sam tried and failed to go for a lighthearted look.

"Sam-"

"Dean," Sam interrupted, "I don't belong here anyway."

"You could! You could just stay after this, you don't have to leave again," Dean was almost pleading.

"How many times have we had this conversation?" Sam sighed. "I can't! I really, really can't. There's only one thing I can do now, and this," he gestured to the quaint neighbourhood we had found our home in, "is not it. Staying here would literally kill me. You know what I would do if I had a choice, Dean, but I don't!"

"Wish you did Sammy!" Dean looked away.

"Me too," Sam agreed, taking a sip of his beer.

This was no doubt the strangest conversation I had ever heard, and I didn't understand half of it. A shared look with the rest of my family indicated that they were equally confused.

The brothers passed a few minutes in companionable silence. They were so… comfortable around each other. Dean had none of that admittedly rather charming attitude he usually put on around people. We started up with our various tasks until Lily-the-lookout shushed us again.

"… wrong without you there," Dean said. "This is already so backwards, just… the ceremony is only, like, 30 minutes long," it seemed he wouldn't say please, wouldn't beg, but the look in his eyes made any such words unnecessary.

"Fine," Sam acquiesced, and then he changed gears completely. "And tomorrow's your bachelor party. Last night of freedom. What can we do to make it stand out from basically every Friday and Saturday night of your entire adult life until you moved here?"

"Ah, don't be a little bitch!" Dean shoved his shoulder. "Usually planning the bachelor party falls on the best man but since your idea of a good time would probably have us drinking tea in a library I took the liberty of doing it myself."

"Jerk!" Sam laughed, the heavy atmosphere of the previous minute forgotten.

I tried unsuccessfully to picture Dean's buff and somewhat dangerous-looking PI brother spending any sort of significant time in a library. I guess looks can be deceiving.

…

The brothers stayed outside until I called them in for dinner. Sam, while polite, didn't seem too bothered about social etiquette and preferred to remain close to Dean without outside interference. Dean seemed to prefer that as well.

We sat down to eat and Mark broke the awkward silence.

"You've got a really sweet ride!"

Sam looked uncomfortable more than pleased.

"She's not mine, she's Dean's," he replied dismissively, taking a large bite of salad.

"Oh."

"She belongs on the road," Dean clarified, seeming to want to leave the topic as well. Lily was never one to take a hint.

"Why's that?" she asked, looking at the brothers in dreamy fascination.

Dean was looking quite fidgety to be honest, and I wasn't used to seeing him like that.

"She's always been. On the road, I mean. We grew up in her more or less."

"In a car?" Lily blurted out, looking confused. I was a bit confused as well actually. This was the first I ever heard of it.

"Well… you know… we moved around a lot and she was the stable point," Dean shrugged dismissively and demonstratively took an enormous bite of the chicken. Sam looked at him thoughtfully, and then asked me about the wedding, effectively setting off a tirade that kept me (with some help from mother and Lily) going for the rest of the meal.

…

I retired as soon as my family left, but Sam and Dean stayed awake. I went to check on them after a while. They weren't talking, which was strange as they (Dean…) had no trouble keeping up a conversation on the phone for at least a few minutes every day. But now they were in the same room and they just sat on the couch holding a beer each, staring at the turned-off television silently.

I would use the expression 'companionable silence', but it wasn't really. They didn't look uncomfortable, but the atmosphere was still tense. They both looked like they had a million things they wanted the other to know, but the last thing they wanted was to say it out loud. I suppose if you combine Dean's horrible communication skills with someone who has equally horrible communication skills that's what you get.

I left them to it… whatever it was, and went to bed. I didn't notice when Dean lay down next to me, but I did notice when a piercing scream snapped us both awake. Dean was out of bed, down the hallway and into the guest room in two seconds flat. I had enough trouble trying to slow my heart rate down to something manageable, and then internally debating whether or not I should go and check on them. I had yet to reach a decision when Dean came back into our bedroom, tiredly rubbing a hand over his face.

"He okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine. Just a nightmare."

"Dean, your nightmares are not just nightmares, and that was… worse."

He looked at me wryly, like he was trying to decide on something. Then he kissed me and pulled my back to his chest.

"He's fine, Em. Go back to sleep."

…

I came downstairs the following morning to a heated argument.

"… the fuck do you mean? You're just taking off?" Dean all but yelled.

"Just for today, I'll be back tonight," Sam replied, more exhausted than patient.

"You can't even stick around for two goddamn days Sam?"

"Don't give me that, Dean. Do you know how hard I had to plead my case just to come here for two whole nights?"

Plead his case? To whom? A boss? Dean had said it was a family business. I suddenly got this horrible idea that my soon-to-be husband was a part of the mob.

"Plead your… you bargained with them? You're a moron, why would you do that?"

"Uh… because you're getting married and I wanted to be here?" Sam deadpanned. "Look, it's not like it's gonna get worse than before when I get back there anyway."

"Sammy…" Dean's voice was painfully pleading all of a sudden.

"It's okay Dean. I'll be back tonight, I promise."

The door closed with a quiet click, and a few seconds later the sound of the creatively christened 'Baby' flared up. Dean was sitting at the kitchen table, head buried in his hands, not looking quite as excited as I would have hoped he would be on the day before we got married. He wouldn't tell me what the problem was, just that Sam had to do something during the day.

To be honest, I didn't really care all that much. I was going to spend the night at my parents' (groom can't see the bride and all that) and then the following morning getting ready with the girls, and it was my wedding, and trying to figure out what Dean's messed up brother's deal and their messed up relationship was about could just wait until another day when I was not getting married.

In retrospect, it might have been a good idea to take a more proactive stance. Drag them to a therapist or an exorcist or something. Hell if I know. It probably wouldn't have made a difference.

…

If this story was about me I would fill numerous pages with vivid descriptions of all the events of the following day and the exact design of my dress and the words in our vows and the decor in the reception hall. I'm sure you're just bursting to hear about it too, but it'll have to wait for another time.

Honestly, I didn't pay attention to Sam during the ceremony. Sue me, it was my day. It was only when we were walking out of the church that I noticed he was looking supremely uncomfortable. Like, someone-put-itching-powder-in-his-underwear uncomfortable. And when he congratulated us Dean looked at him earnestly and Sam gave a small nod in return; an assurance that he was okay.

Bobby Singer was an odd man. He teared up a little when he shook my hand and gave Dean a hug and during the reception he and Sam kept to themselves, speaking in low tones, occasionally joined by Dean who thankfully understood the groom's duty to mingle with the guests.

I put the Winchester entourage out of my mind again until Sam gave his best man speech. The speech was almost rudely short and awkward and would have been stupidly generic if the brothers and their uncle hadn't looked so terribly serious.

"Dean, you have sacrificed so much. If anybody deserves happiness, it's you. You have new joys and new responsibilities now; embrace them! I wish you both the brightest of futures together. To Dean and Emily."

"To Dean and Emily," the party chorused while a look of pained understanding passed between the brothers, and Dean's fingers dug harshly into Sam's shoulder when he clapped him on the back.

After the dinner there was dancing, which Dean did both badly and reluctantly and Sam did not at all. Lily pestered him about it once or twice, and then another few times when she'd had a couple of drinks, but he turned her down with increasing firmness and did not invite conversation either. Eventually Dean actually went up to her and asked her to leave his brother alone. In a nice way to be sure, but still…

Mark also made a valiant effort to involve Sam in the celebration, but they both looked so awkward sitting next to each other in their fancy suits looking down at their own hands that it almost cracked me up. Mark told me later that Sam had seemed completely distraught and hardly heard what he said, let alone replied, and he had gladly fled the scene when Bobby Singer turned up with an entire bottle of whisky and two glasses.

Well before it was socially acceptable, Sam came up to Dean and I where we were talking to some of my friends and announced that he was leaving. Dean looked at him for a second and then said "okay" without protest. I certainly didn't mind very much, and the guy was looking more twitchy by the second, his eyes drifting. I started wondering if maybe he was a junkie or something.

"It was great to meet you Emily," he forced out with an equally forced smile to which I responded with a forced smile of my own, and Dean followed him outside to say his goodbyes.

I asked Dean later about Sam's odd behaviour but it made him irrationally defensive, especially my careful inquiry about drug-use, so I decided to accept the situation. Not like the guy was going to figure too prominently in my life I reasoned. That's what I thought at the time anyway.

A/N: Thank you for reading :) Please leave a review if you have a minute. I'd love to hear what you think.