I stood in front of the mailboxes, fumbling with my keys, trying to get the one that opened mine and Jessica's mailbox, it had been one hell of a long day. Professors who pretended to know everything but didn't know squat, friends that had no real sense of responsibility and then there was just the D on the paper that I had worked days on.

I got the mail out of the box, relocked and went up to the apartment. On the top of the stack was a letter from Bobby. I smiled. From time to time he sends me something, usually something that lets me know that my family is okay and that he's okay, and that there is nothing new in the hunting community other than the usual ghosts and goblins. But this time, the envelope was thicker.

I found the letter from Bobby on top.

Hey Son,

Everything is good. Your brother is having a rough time of it right now. A woman, Edna, I think her name is---died a couple of weeks ago. He met her because he was hunting a ghost for her. Well, you know your stubborn assed brother, he wouldn't' take money for his work, so she decided that she would teach him. Not sure exactly how she knew but she did. Held him essentially hostage for three months and made him learn and go and get tested for his GED. Well, let me rephrase, I know her name is Edna, she's an old friend, and I sort of pushed your brother that way. I just wanted you to be up on the lie that your brother thinks is truth. Just in case you boys ever see each other again.

He learned. Boy is he good at reading and he researches almost as fast as you do now. Go figure that. All he needed was some TLC and one on one help. Well, Edna passed away the day he took the test. She was old, her heart wasn't good anymore, wasn't anything anyone could prevent, but it happened right under Dean's nose, and you know how your brother is…you know how he gets when he loses people or is hurt. He's thrown himself into hunting. I had to go rescue him and his car the other week. My God was he bloodied and bruised. 100 stitches in his back. He's okay. No need to worry. He's okay.

But, he got the results of his GED and he refuses to open it, says it isn't important. That he's an idiot and he'll die one. Not like he'll live very long….his words not mine. He took off, didn't take the letter or anything with him. Just took off in the middle of the night. I wish he wouldn't do that kinda stuff, but you know how your brother is.

Anyway, I opened his letter and he passed. He passed Sam, with flying colors. I'm so proud of him. I can't tell him, but I am. So, I thought I'd send you a copy of the report. I know that you are in a big fancy school and a GED doesn't mean much where you are now, but your brother needs to hear that you're proud of him, even if you aren't kid you need to call and tell him that you are. He's certain he's worthless, and I think you might be the only person that can convince him otherwise.

Well, this old fool needs to be in bed. I hope everything is good over there. Tell that girl of yours that I said hi.

Sam dug inside the envelope and found a copy of the certificate that boasted Dean's real name and that he now had a GED. Sam sat down on the couch and starred at it. He was happy for his brother, but it also made him sad. Dean could have had so much in this life. Could have been so many things, but this was it. Dad had reduced him to having nothing more than extensive weapons training and a GED. Sam couldn't help but wonder what his brother could have been if life had been different.

He didn't call Dean, Dean wouldn't be happy to hear from him, Bobby was wrong about that, Dean would have thought the protestation of pride was forced, and pitying. His brother didn't need that. Bobby was right about that, Dean did find himself worthless and his little brother calling him from his big fancy ivy league school in California saying that he was proud of his big brother because he got his GED was condescending. Dean didn't want that, didn't need that. So, instead, he put the copy in the duffel that still carried the few hunting supplies that Dean had stashed away before he left. He looked at it one more time before he zipped up his duffel and shoved it under the bed.