I have been working on this for a little over a year, but kept putting it off for reasons that have escaped me. But after that montage they played in the season finale, the one where it was just Dean and Sam being nothing more than brothers, I decided to take this off the shelf, dust it off, and publish it. Plus, I'm stuck in a writer's block right now for my other stories-I guess I live there or something-and really hope this helps me break it for good. I really hope you like it and please tell me what you think.

I'll catch you in the next chapter…


Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 1991…

The opening tune to Inspector Gadget filled the room. Sam bobbed his head to the music, singing along under his breath. Even though he knew it wouldn't happen, he hoped The Claw would get captured in this episode. But that would end the show and Sam liked watching Inspector Gadget.

The door opened, the crinkle of a paper bag intertwining with the voices from the show. Sam glanced up when he heard his brother say, "Hey, Sammy. Got you some food." Dean shut the door with his foot, walking past his brother to the small kitchenette crammed into the corner of the motel room they had been staying in.

Sam returned his gaze to the TV, barely listening to what his brother was doing. In fact, he had almost completely lost track of Dean's movements until his brother plopped down next to him and said, "Watcha watching?"

"Inspector… Hey!" Dean had picked up the remote from the coffee table, put his feet up, and flipped the channel over to MTV. "Turn it back, Dean."

Instead of answering, Dean began singing along to the Metallica song that just started playing. He turned the television up louder as Sam's complaints became louder.

"Dean," Sam screamed one last time. He sighed, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The speakers were just blaring out the chorus to 'For Whom the Bell Tolls', the TV on its breaking point, when Sam's temper flared to its own breaking point. In one fell swoop, he tackled his brother both of them falling over the couch's arm and onto the floor.

"Get off me," Dean snarled trying to push Sam away without hurting him.

"Give me the remote back," Sam snapped punching anywhere his little eight-year-old fists could reach.

"You want the remote back?"


"Fine." And it was thrown across the room, landing in the corner in pieces.

"Nice," Sam snarled getting up. For revenge, Dean swept his brother's feet from underneath him, sending him to the floor. The twelve-year-old got to his feet, breathing heavily.

"I'm proud of you, really, but you shouldn't let your temper get to you." Dean wiped blood from his bottom lip, walking across the room to turn the television off. "If you wanted the remote you should have just asked." And with those words hanging in the air, leaving Sam with his mouth hanging open in speechless protest, Dean entered the bathroom and closed the door…


The next chapter will be longer, I promise you all that. It's done, too. I just need to go over it and tweak it a little. So, until then…