Chapter One:

Sam, sitting on the edge of the bed has been following his big brother's pacing with his eyes. He had wanted to say a lot of things for the past half hour to the older boy already, but he only got as far as gape and that was it. He couldn't go further; the look on his big brother's face was scary to him. He knows hurting him would be the last thing on earth Dean would ever do to him, but still---Sam was scared of upsetting his big brother further. It may not be him the older boy has grief with---and yet he feels how his old man feels at the moment; being the one Dean is actually mad at.

His eyes follow Dean head for the door--he would have called out for him, only he recalled the look on Dean's face; so he didn't. But he got as far as stand up thought; and that was it. He clamped his mouth shut instead as he watched the older boy leave the room with a slam. Sam sat back down and sighed a big one. Being in an unfamiliar motel room and being in one for the very first time, it was something new to the boy. It made him uncomfortable as hell. But having Dean with him though, was a big consolation. He didn't feel as weird since his big brother was there. He was about to sigh a heavier version from the first one he did earlier, only it was cut short after the door re-opens and in comes Dean in the doorway.

This time, Sam gets up again and took a step.

"You hungry, little brother?" he calls out to Sam. "I'm starving!" he added; giving his tummy a rub and a loud tap. "What do you say about headin' up to that diner across the street with me for some grub, huh?" Dean says with a big grin on his handsome face; all the anger and rage---gone without a trace whatsoever. But the cuts and bruises aren't; both from the ordeal he had with his kidnappers and the ones from their old man just barely an hour ago. It made Sam grimace seeing them. It hurt him; especially the new cuts their dad did on Dean because of him.

"Dean," Sam starts to say as Dean was turning towards the door again.

"Yo?" he turns to face his little brother who was walking towards him at the doorway. "You don't feel like going out?" he says, "It's alright, Sam--I'll just get us grub to go. You stay here. I'll be back in five. You lock the door after I leave."

A hand on his jacket stops him from taking another step outside the door. Dean looks over his shoulder and caught Sam's concerned face.

"Sam, let's just get through this night without trying to fix anything, alright? I'm just too tired, kiddo." Dean says exasperatedly. Sam let him go. Dean was able to turn to face him now. "Let's just---let's just try and stay off that path for now, please? Cause I just don't want to talk or hear anything about him--about mom---about...about your drinking and you're being stupid for drinking. So let us not, alright?" he goes on, "All I want to do right now is get us something to eat---take a quick shower and then sleep. That's it! But if you're just gonna push with this---you're just gonna have to stay here by yourself tonight, kiddo. Cause I'm renting the room next door instead. Do you want that, Sam?"

"Dean, surely you must feel anger towards me, man." Sam says, eyeing his big brother's cuts and bruises.

"If you push about talking about dad, you can bet I'm gonna be angry, Sam!"

"No, Dean...not about that...not about dad." Sam says quietly, "About---about getting hurt because of me."

Dean responds with a thinking face, three beats and he comes up with a, "Nope."

"Even just a little bit?"

"Not even!" Dean says.

"Why not?" the younger boy whines.

"I just don't. You have a problem with that?"

"Yes!" Sam spat.

"Well tough! That's your problem not mine!" Dean nonchalantly says while turning to leave, but Sam grabs his arm making the older boy turn to face him.

"Dean," Sam says, "... I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything stupid besides the drinking did you, Sammy?"

"What?" Sam spat; brows all scrunched-up, "No."

"Drugs?"

"No." Sam's face gets distorted at the randomness of the questions courtesy of his big brother.

"Father a kid?"

"Dude, you know that's unlikely to happen. And you know why."

"Right." Dean says, "Virgin."

"Deeeaaaannn???" Sam whines even louder.

"Didn't do drugs--didn't get laid---" he says, "Did you kill anybody?" Dean further asks him.

"Yeah, I killed the next door neighbor's cat and Mrs. Susanna's labradoodle!" Sam bats agitatedly,"What is with all this, man? Are we playing 20 questions here? Cause now is not the time, Dean. Seriously."

"Answer the question, Sammy!" Dean orders, "You didn't do any of these stuff, did you?"

"Duh!" Sam snaps. "You know I didn't, Dean."

"What was the apology for then if you didn't?" Dean asks which got Sam stumped. He looks Dean in the eyes sadly before averting them away. "Sam?"

"Dad hurting you." he says quietly. "I'm really sorry about that, Dean. It was my fault."

"Sammy--stop this..."

"And you're not supposed to be in a crabby motel room with me, Dean. Right now, you should be back home, in your own bedroom--in clean clothes, resting. After everything you went through with those bastards--you should be resting. But instead, you're here. NOT resting." Sam says sadly, "You stood up to dad for me and this is the thanks you get for it. I am such a lousy little brother you should just---you should just put me up for adoption or something, Dean."

Sam says, sitting heavily on one of the beds in there; his bed.

"Like a puppy?" Dean says.

"Or divorce me." Sam deadpans his big brother.

"Are we married, Sam? I don't remember getting a proposal, dude!" Dean laughs. Sam looks up and met his gaze with a glare."What? You only get divorced if you're married, Sammy! And you only GET married if you're not related. And we are brothers, genuis! We can never EVER get married. Cause that would be wrong. And not to mention super creepy in my book. Well, in anybody else's book really." he rambles. "And last time I checked, we're not married, Sam! So that means divorce is out of the question!"

Sam sighs just as heavily.

"I'm being serious, Dean." Sam says, "I am really really really sorry."

Dean found a spot on the bed across from his kid brother on the other bed. He gives out a sigh himself before speaking.

"Sam,"

"What?"

"It was not your fault." Dean says with a serious tone. "None of it was your fault, you hear?" he added gently; he even manages to place a warm hand on his kid brother's knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze.