Pick Up The Pieces And Start Again

Disclaimer: Neither Sam, Dean nor Supernatural are in anyway mine (unfortunately) – see E. Kripke and CW for ownership details.

Summary: A companion piece to the end of 'A Letter Home'

Rating: Some bad language

Author's Note:So I figured, maybe, just maybe, I could set the boys on the path of talking - but just the start of it. Please do read and review - Has this storyworked?

Epilogue – Picking up and Starting Anew

'Dean?' Sam was driving again. They were back on the road but Dean's leg was still not fully recovered and so while he took a turn at driving whenever Sam needed a break, he couldn't hold out for long before the pain got too much.

'Hmm. What?' Dean's eyes came back to his brother from where he had been staring aimlessly out of the side window. 'Yeah?'

'I wanted to say… about those letters…I'm sorry… I … I didn't know that that was what they were when I started to read them. I mean I figured it out pretty quick but I just wondered why you hadn't sent them until I read them and…'

'It's alright, Sam,' Dean half-sighed. He knew he needed to talk to Sam, really talk, something meaningful, but he just wasn't good at it. It had never been their way to talk things out, quiet getting on or out and out screaming matches, but not much in between really. 'A lot of it was stuff I should have told you before. I'm sorry.'

'Dean, did you want to leave? Before I went I mean? Did you think about going? Starting out somewhere, I don't know a job or college, something?'

'No. I didn't, not really, not since I was really young. I used to think about what I wanted after it was all over, but even that was a long time ago.'


'Don't take this the wrong way because I would still choose the same now, it's a decision that I never had to make, it was just the way it should be. I couldn't leave you and Dad, I thought you needed me.'

'I did.'

'You'd have managed without me. It was probably more that I was too cowardly to start out without the two of you.'

'Dean, I needed you so much when I was younger, I didn't know it. It was just the way it was, I came home to you, it was you who made sure I was okay, school work done, no hassle from anyone, food, clothes, growing up: you took care of just about everything didn't you? It wasn't Dad. I don't think I ever realised that until…'

'It's okay, Sam. I was holding on too tight when you went that's all. It was a shock to my system. Never was much of a planner for the future, so I hadn't really thought about what it would be like with no you. Stupid, huh?'

'No, Dean, not stupid. Just you.'

'Stupid then, like I said. There you go.'

Dean shifted uncomfortably trying to ease the pain in his leg.

'You okay? You want to stop?' Sam had seen the discomfort in Dean's face. He was fairly sure it was caused by his leg, but there was always the possibility that its actual cause was the conversation.

'Nah! I'm good.'

'You do know I don't believe you when you say that.' Sam softened the statement by casting a grin in his brother's direction

'Very funny... Sam, why didn't you send me that letter when you first got there? Why was I so difficult to write to?' The unspoken part of the question, the part Dean didn't want to acknowledge he needed to ask was 'Why am I so easy to leave behind?'

'I didn't want to let you down. I wanted you there with me. I knew that if I made contact with you, you'd come and I didn't know how to stay there if you offered me a way out when I felt so out of my depth all the time. Going with you would have been the easy way out, I needed to make myself stick it out long enough to see if I could do it. It never got any easier not having you to talk to though. Even when I was with Jess, there was part of me that still missed you. The fitting in was okay but I still missed your bad jokes and all. You know the hardest part of going was leaving you, not the arguments with Dad and all that shit obviously. It was leaving you and not knowing how to look after myself cause you'd always done it for me – you brought me up more or less by yourself..'


'Dean, what I said about Christmas with Jessica and her family? I'm sorry.'

'It's okay, Sam. I understand now. I didn't when you wrote first but I get it. Your other letter… it made sense… Dad and I are not exactly easy to present in public are we? Maybe, I should work on that… do you think?'

'You shouldn't have to change. It's other people's loss.'

'Yeah right!' he snorted in disbelief, 'don't get carried away. You've said it before I'm antisocial, my people skills are zero and I don't know how to be legit.'

'Put it like that and maybe we could do some work, bro.' Sam smiled.

'Yeah, 'cos you never know when this gig could all be over.'

'Okay then, well we better start work right away then 'cos you've got a lot to learn!'

'It didn't take you long to change your tune.'

'I think we should start by working out what you would want to do after…'

'Yeah.' His tone was suddenly disinterested, distinctly lacking in enthusiasm.

'Dean, it's okay to think about it. It doesn't mean we're stopping this, we're just keeping options open for later…'

'Sam, not that one, not right now. Please leave that one until later. I can't think of after yet...'

Sam nodded acquiescence and frowned as the traffic round him increased as he joined the jam.

'Sam, you okay for a while driving?'


'In the spirit of honesty and trust, my leg is not so good, I'm going to take something for it and try and get some sleep' maybe it really was time to be honest with Sam, not just about the past but about the present. Dean was encountering the realisation, that Sam knew his leg was bad, he knew his leg was bad so what was the point in hiding it, particularly when hiding it wasn't getting any benefit. No-one was worrying less because he was trying to hide it and if he took something for it, he might get some actual proper rest which ironically enough might help it heal. 'You mind? We'll talk more later, I want to ask you some stuff and well… you got to start work on getting me house-trained!'

'You mean that?'

'Which bit?'


'All, Sam. All.