Why, just why, couldn't he have a conversation with his father that didn't end with his dad yelling after him and himself leaving the premises? Granted, he was coming back this time, but...after a bit of time had passed. Because Sam was still pissed, and he knew John would be, too.

And Dean...Dean had been caught in the middle of it again, but this time, he'd taken a side. John's side. And that had been the final straw that had made Sam leave before he could hear anymore of what Dean had to say for their dad's side of things.

He hated this. He hated that he couldn't ask a simple question without his head being ripped off. He knew that in battle and war it was a bad idea to question every move, but they weren't in a battle right now; their dad had just agreed to let them stay together as a family, and not even a day later, Sam was ready for them to split up again, just to stay away from his dad.

All he'd asked was what his dad had found out about the demon. The demon, the one who had started them all down this path they couldn't step off of. His dad had been missing for almost a year, and Sam had been curious. Hell, if they were going to fight as a unit now, as a family, then maybe Sam and Dean ought to have an idea of what they were going up against?

Nope; not according to the all mighty John Winchester. They were back to the same old "I'll tell you as you need to know" basis, and it was pissing Sam off. Questioning it had only pissed John off, and they'd gone off and running from there. The worst part, though, had been Dean.

A couple of nights before, Dean had agreed with Sam, told John that they were just as capable of hunting things as their dad was, and it was about time he stopped treating them like little kids who didn't know anything.

Today, though, instead of playing mediator as the argument had gotten more heated between Sam and John, Dean had glanced over at Sam and said, "Just...stop, okay? Enough, Sam; let it go. You know he's right."

That was when the floor had fallen out underneath Sam's feet. No questioning his Dad, no maybes that Sam was right, nothing. Just total certainty.

Dean had opened his mouth, but Sam had backed away for the door to get him out, get him away from the traitorous words that would've followed behind the damning betrayal.

Sam slowly slid to the curb and bit his lip against the tears that were welling in his eyes. "Dammit," he cursed, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes angrily. It was like they didn't even care. He knew they did, knew they'd give their life for him, but thinking it with the words and seeing proof, hearing proof of it from their own lips, was another thing all together.

"Are you okay?"

Sam glanced up and blinked against the bright light. After his eyes refocused, he found a shadow in front of the light that was the sun, and the shadow turned out to be a girl. A young girl with hair that was almost white it was so blonde, and a young girl who was crouched down now in front of him with a worried frown on her forehead. "I saw you come over here not too long ago," she explained. "Not a lot of people sit on the curb near a garden when there's benches inside the garden to sit on, so..."

Sam forced a smile and glanced behind him. Truth be told, he hadn't really known where he was; he'd just run. Hard and fast, and he told himself that it was because he'd taken off that quickly that he hadn't heard his name being called by his brother or his dad. Because the truth, that neither of them had called him back with worry or fear in their tones, was way worse to contemplate.

"I'm Amelia," she said, stretching her hand out.

With a quick smile Sam extended and took her hand in his. It felt soft, like almost pillow soft, and he wondered what type of hand lotion she used. "I'm Sam," he said, and he cleared his throat when his voice came out hoarse.

"Did something bad happen?" she asked, taking a seat beside him on the curb.

Sam snorted, his lips turning up in a bitter grin. "Yeah. It always seems to in my family."

"Your family?"

"My brother and my dad," he said, trying to steel away the images of John and Dean standing together, giving him disapproving looks. Both against him.

And why shouldn't they be? Dean was the perfect son, the one who followed orders, the one who had grown up the way John had wanted him to grow up, the one who was steadfast and loyal to anyone he cared about now thanks to that.

Sam just wasn't on that list anymore. He'd thought he was, but...

His head was messed up. Everything about him was messed up.

"You had a fight, I'm guessing."

Sam glanced over at her sympathetic gaze, and blinked when he saw flashes of lilac in her eyes. A car passed them on the road they were seated on, and Sam assumed it had been that reflected in her eyes. "Yeah," he said, sighing. "I just...got tired of it. All of it."

"Was it with both of them, or...?"

Something about her made him open up. "My dad, first. That wasn't really a surprise. If he makes up his mind, then there's no going back. So when his geeky son asks questions..." Sam threw his hands up in the air. "Boom."

"And your brother?" she pressed gently.

"My brother's played chairman of peace between us for years, but today, he...he sided with my dad." It hurt to even say it. It just felt so wrong. "Dean's been the only one who's really been honest with me about things, when he isn't trying to pretend everything's just fine when we both know it isn't. So when he comes out and says something, I know it's his 100 honest feeling, and when he finally picked a side..." Sam closed his eyes and hung his head. He'd hoped that it would be him. He'd hoped that if Dean had stood on anyone's side, it would've been on Sam's.

"It hurts," Amelia said simply and softly. "Do you wish you could change it?"

Sam laughed and stopped when he felt tears press at his eyes. If he laughed anymore, he was going to start crying. Again. "Yes. I wish...I wish I knew that they actually cared. No one in my family seems to enjoy talking except me. Talking about the stuff that really matters. If they could just say it, just once, that they cared, that they loved me..." He shook his head. "I might as well wish for pigs to fly for all the good it would do me."

Amelia frowned slightly and leaned forward, and Sam found himself caught in her gaze. "You think they don't care about you? Like...like you don't exist, right?"

Sam frowned but nodded slowly. When Dean had taken his dad's side, they'd been a strong force together, solid and sure and not needing the questioning youngest. John and Dean could stand together against anything. "Yeah, that's exactly what it felt like. It'd probably be easier for them if I wasn't around; they probably worked better when I went to school and wasn't hanging around nagging at them. I just wish...I just wish I could disappear." The gaze with which Amelia was piercing him seemed to get stronger, and Sam found that he couldn't look away.

Then Amelia leaned back, smiling suddenly, before nodding once. "Good wishes," she said, rising. "I hope everything works out for you, Sam." She turned and walked away towards the garden, and when Sam blinked, suddenly distracted by the bright summer sun, she was gone.

Sam blinked again, glancing around the garden behind him in hopes that he would see her. "Amelia?" he asked, but received nothing for an answer.

He sighed and turned back to the curb. It had been nice to let off some of what he was feeling, but loneliness was settling back into his soul, along with the truth that his words had been. John and Dean didn't really need him or seem to want him around. He got in the way, asked questions that bothered the both of them, and didn't seem to fit in. He never really had.

He'd wait a little while longer before going back, and maybe by then his brother and dad would've reverted to the age old thing they did when anything got emotional: bury it and forget it, and never ever talk about it.