A/N: Uber-long chapter, hope y'all enjoy it. Reviews are love!

Keeping Dean Winchester in the dark about anything was difficult. It was murder trying to keep their previous lives under wraps. Especially after Dean found the stockpile of weapons and equipment in the back of the Impala. Sam had hidden all of the charms and had claimed that the two of them liked to go hunting and hiking. Rock climbing was another one, but they didn't go often because Dean didn't like heights too much. Sam had become an excellent liar and it seemed too easy to come up with plausible stories. Sure, Sam had made the little lies about going out in the middle of the night when he was covertly meeting Ruby and was questioned. However, lying about their lives just seemed so weird when both of them were the ones usually lying to somebody else about their unnatural lives.

Sam had concocted a story about how they were mechanics and they were currently seeking work. Their quest had been interrupted when they had gotten into a car accident and Dean had lost part of his memories due to head trauma. Of course, the Impala had been fixed and Dean's "injuries" had healed since then. Bobby was currently hard at work forging documents such as new identities, medical reports, and the accident report. The man was a master at research and forgery. Sam would never be able to thank the older hunter enough or repay this debt. Bobby had even gone so far to have a trailer brought out to be set down on his property behind his house and beside the salvage yard.

"Sam?" asked Dean from the kitchen table, which yanked Sam out his long moment of thoughtfulness at the stove.

"Yeah, Dean?"

"The eggs are burning," Dean pointed out with a concerned gaze, "Are you okay? You're really distracted this morning."

"I'm fine," Sam answered casually while scraping the blackening egg off of the skillet, "Just thinking." He was more anxious about their departure that day more than anything. They were going to head out to Singer Salvage so that they could rebuild their lives. That was going to be a difficult task and just the thought of Dean figuring out what they really did was sickening to Sam's stomach. Sam dumped the egg onto a plate a moment later and took out the sausage patties from the microwave and place it beside the oozing yellow object. It didn't look edible, but it was all that Sam could do in a rush. Besides, they had ate much worse than that before.

"Here ya go," Sam set the plate down in front of his older brother with a sigh, "I really need to learn how to cook."

"You cook just fine, Sammy," Dean answered as he cut the egg with his fork, "Besides, we've ate much worse than this before."

Sam stopped, suddenly curious. It was as if Dean had read his mind. How did he remember all of their bad meals at truck-stops and dirty diners with the creepy waitresses?

"You remember any of that?" Sam asked.

"Nah, I'm just sayin' that we've bound to have eaten worse," Dean shrugged before taking a bite of the eggs. Then he made a face, "Dude, this one takes the cake for the worst."

"You're impossible sometimes," Sam rolled his eyes.

Sam threw his clothes into his backpack and zipped it up before making sure they had gotten everything out of the motel. Once satisfied that they were ready to go, Sam left the motel room and went down to where Dean was leaning against the Impala. Sam opened the backseat door and threw his things in. Dean watched him with raised eyebrows as Sam got into the driver's seat and started the Impala's engine.

"I want to drive," Dean said, "She's my car."

"Sorry, Dean. With your memory, you don't know where we're going. You don't remember much of Uncle Bobby," Sam shook his head.

Dean made a face and settled into the passenger seat with an annoyed sigh, "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam replied without consciously thinking.

"Why'd you just call me a jerk? You're the one keeping me from driving!"

"Nevermind. Forget it."


Obviously some things never changed no matter how much they were tried.

Sam took a breath as he went up the porch to Bobby's house. Dean was trailing behind him, awed by the spectacle of their hunter friend's home. He lifted his fist and knocked on Bobby's door. A moment later, the door opened and Sam stood there sheepishly with Dean distracted behind him.

"Sam," despite Bobby's initial irritation of the younger Winchester that caused the older brother's memory to be partially erased, "Good to see you."

Sam embraced the closest man to a father he had and then let go, "Good to see you too, Bobby."

Bobby nodded and looked past him to Dean, "Dean, it's also good to see you, kid."

Dean nodded unsurely and then shifted his weight on his feet, "Yeah, I guess."

"Shy with your favorite uncle?" Bobby asked, playing the role that Sam had recommended, "C'mere boy."

Dean tentatively stepped to Bobby and the two hunters embraced quickly.

"I was worried about you after I heard about your accident," Bobby said without any story flaws after they released, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Dean shrugged, "Not a scratch on me."

Bobby nodded, "Well come on inside and I'll get you two something to eat."

After eating lunch of hamburgers and beer, Bobby showed the Winchesters to the property behind his. He had bought it out when he was building the lot for the salvage and hadn't done anything with it since. There were tunnels leading from the house that went down underneath the property with several trapdoors in the fields hidden away in case of emergency.

"It's the best I could get out here in the short period of time your brother gave me," Bobby told Dean, "Here's the keys."

Dean took the keys and handed one to Sam, "What are we going to do to pay you off, Uncle Bobby?" he asked.

"Well Sam is gonna get himself a job and you can either work for me in the salvage yard or get a job like your little brother. You're a damn good mechanic, boy, I'd like to have you out here with me," Bobby mused.

Not to mention to look out for him, Sam added mentally as he listened in.

"Okay, I'll work for you," Dean nodded in agreement.

"Alright, we'll get a start on that tomorrow," Bobby pulled on the bill of his cap and gruffly continued, "Dinner is at eight. If you're late, no food for you."

"Uncle Bobby is cool," Dean said from his bedroom a few minutes later. The brothers bedrooms were connected by a bathroom and currently both doors to the bathroom were open so that they could talk.

"You think so? He's pretty damn good at taking care of us," Sam had to agree.

Dean was silent for a moment as he laid on his bed, "Where are you gonna get a job at tomorrow, Sammy?"

"Probably at one of the stores in town," Sam replied while setting up his laptop on his tiny desk, "I'll have to look around first before I make up my mind."

"You're not going to be a mechanic anymore?"

"Nah. You were always better at it than me," Sam shook his head even though Dean couldn't see him, "I just wanted to go back to college."

"You were in college?" Sam could hear the frown of confusion in Dean's voice.

"Yeah, Stanford," Sam felt a pang of regret streak through his heart.

"Why didn't you stay?"

"You came to get me. . .Dad needed us. I didn't go back because my girlfriend died there," Sam answered sadly, "But that's okay. I'll go back to college someday."

Dean was quiet for a long time and Sam stuck his head to the doorway to look at his brother lying on the bed through the bathroom door.



"Just checkin'."

Morning came all too soon. Sam dragged his body out of bed and to the kitchen where Dean was poking through the cabinets absentmindedly. Sam approached and sat at the bar in the kitchen on one of the stools. He set his head on his hand and watched Dean for a long moment until the older brother turned to him.

"You ready for today?" Dean asked, saying what Sam knew he wasn't thinking.

"Yeah, I guess so," Sam shrugged nonchalantly, "It's just job hunting."

Dean was silent for a long time before saying, "I had a weird dream last night."

Sam watched him carefully, "Tell me about it," he prompted.

"You were in it," Dean began, "You were driving the Impala and there was a flash of bright light and then I heard you screaming my name."

"That was the car wreck," Sam answered.

Well, one of the car wrecks, thought Sam.

"Yeah, I thought it was."

"Don't worry about it," Sam encouraged him gently, "It's in the past."

"I know."

A sharp knock came at the door and Sam frowned, going toward it. He opened it to see Bobby standing there, "Hey, Bobby."

"Dean needs to get to work," the oldest hunter looked past Sam to Dean who was already dressed, "Ready, kid?"

"Yeah, Uncle Bobby."

"You don't have to call me 'Uncle'," Bobby told his older 'nephew', "It's just Bobby."

"Okay, Bobby," Dean smiled a little.

"See you later, Sam," Bobby nodded to the younger Winchester.

Then the door was shut and Sam was alone.

Sam parked the Impala in the town square where the stores were and went to the nearest one that said "Now Hiring". He opened the door and was met with a cold, clean smell that was covering the aroma of oil, sweat, and body odor. For the first time in his life, he felt like a poser. That was embarrassing that he was faking everything to work at a grocery store, but then again he had to do what he had to do. There wasn't much choice. He wasn't going to unload everything on Bobby just because he was too prideful. Neither could he let Dean down.

"Hi," he went up to the front office, "Can I have an application?"

"Sure," the blond girl in the office smiled at him, "Here you go. Just fill it out and hand it back in whenever you can."

After taking the application, Sam asked, "Do you mind if I fill it out here?"

"I don't mind," she shook her head and handed him a pen, "The break room is down that hall."

She pointed down the hall that was beside the office and Sam glanced at her nametag, "Thank you, Lea."

"No problem."

Sam headed into the empty break room and sat down at the table. It didn't take him too long to complete the application. During one of the questionnaires, Sam pulled out his cellphone and called Bobby.


"It's Sam. How's Dean doing?"

"He's down in the salvage yard fixing one of the newer addition cars. Dean's fine, Sam. I would tell you if he wasn't."

"I know, I'm just worried."

"Like a mother hen."

Sam sighed, "I know. I'll talk to you later."