Truths, Lies And The Road Ahead.

Summary. . . . . . . . . . A short look into Dean's mind after his talk with Castiel. A one shot tag to Free To Be You And Me.

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . I own nothing, they belong to Kripkie and co.

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . What an amazing episode, I cried, I laughed, and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute. We can only wish that the rest of the season will leave us with the same happy feelings. As always enjoy the fic, and thanks for taking time out to read. Will catch you all soon, Peanut x

"What about you?"

"What about me?. . . . . . . . . I don't know. . . . . . . . . Honestly, I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am. . . . . . . . . . I'm really good."

"Even without your brother?"

"Especially without my brother. I mean I spend so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I mean I've had more fun with you in the past twenty four hours than I've had with Sam in years, and your not that much fun. . . . . . . . . . It's funny ya know, I've been so chained to my family, but now that I'm alone, . . . . . . . . hell I'm happy."

I feel my hands grip all the more tighter to the steering wheel, feel my eyes fix on some imaginary point straight ahead, as the lies fall easily from my lips. I can't believe I'm sat here, in the only place I have ever been able to truly call home, lying to an angel of the lord, God's messenger, isn't that a sure fire way to be sent straight back down to hell? I risk a quick glance over at Cas, hoping that he cannot sense the untruthfulness behind my words, that he can't see the conflicting emotions that are doing battle inside me, each trying to defeat each other and become the winner, the war raging inside me threatening to over spill and my true feelings to escape; my true feelings that want so badly to track down my little brother's sorry ass and drag it back to it's rightful place, a place currently occupied by the angel I'm finding it all the more difficult to lie to. It's okay though, because just as quietly as he always arrives, he's gone, not even the slightest of breezes signaling his departure this time, and I can feel the stoic mask that I have taken to plastering across my face slowly begin to crumble. I'm not good, I'm not good at all. I'm not happy, I haven't been for a very long time.

I feel the sting of tears against eyes that burn with tiredness, and defeat, and hurt, and anger, but I refuse to allow them the satisfaction of falling because then I feel I would lose the battle completely. Instead I focus my mind back onto the drive I still have to make along these long, and dark, and lonely roads with only the radio now to keep me company, and even that has lost it's appeal, the volume hovering so that I have to strain to hear it, but I don't turn it up and I wonder why, but deep down I know. I no longer have anyone to annoy by doing so, no longer have my sensitive, emotional, ready to bust a blood vessel one day, kid brother sat beside me; and God help me, I miss the son of a bitch. I miss his whining, and his constant questions, and his frothy girlie latte thingies; but mostly I just miss him. I spent most of my life looking after him, my number one priority since the day he was placed in my hands; now that he's gone, I'm lost.

I told Cas I'd had more fun these past few days with him, than I had in years with Sam, but if that's the case why is it that the fun I had with him is quickly being forgotten, to be replaced with memories of sleeping brothers and plastic spoons, itching powders and boxers, super glue and beer bottles, purple nurples and slow dancing aliens; pork sandwiches in dirty ashtrays and Sam retching to a porcelain god, that wasn't much fun for Sam, but boy was it funny for me; pig in a poke, well okay that didn't turn out to be much fun for Sam either, but come on, it's pig in a poke; singing off key to Bon Jovi because he's cool at times; we had fun, it might not be what most people's idea of fun is, but it was what we was used to, we made the best out of a bad situation, and now that it's gone. . . . . . . . . . . . I miss it.

I'm dragged out of my thoughts as tires grind across rumble strips, rattling the car and alerting me to the fact that I had started to drift. I shake my head to clear my mind and slow the car down as I come to a crossroads. There's no one else out tonight to bother me so I slow to a stop and contemplate my next move. Left would take me to Bobby's, a place I have no intention of going to at the moment, I'm in no hurry to receive another lecture from the man who can make me feel so small with just one look. Straight would carry me on, on my path to no where. Right, well right would lead me to the place I now find I desperately want to go to, the place where my one meaning in life is, the place where my little brother is hiding, broken, alone, and in anguish. Right would lead me to Sam. I start to turn the wheel, wanting nothing more than to turn the big car down that road, to find Sam and reassure him things would be okay, to find my brother and beg him to come back home; but instead I straighten the wheel and head back onto the road to nowhere and my lonely trip for one. I can't do it, I can't go to Sam yet, not until I can lose all these bad thoughts I still have and regain the trust I once had in him. I know it will happen one day, that one day all will be forgiven and forgotten and we will return to how it we were, but that day is not today; today I carry on my journey into the unknown alone, and can only hope that where ever Sam is he's safe.

A.N. . . . . . . . . So I'm sat here pondering a few questions; Will Sam tell Dean about what Lucifer said? Was it really Lucifer, or the angels messing with his mind again? Does Dean know about the messed up voicemail Sam received? Will Castiel ever reveal he was the one who let Sam out? And finally, will this be the last season? Food for thought on a Sunday morning eh? Peanut x