It was just another school, another town, but ALWAYS the same new kid on the block. Dean seemed to fit into any role effortlessly. He had that charisma that just flocked people to him. Unlike me who it took months to make a new friend, if dad even let us stay that long; just another friend to make and then promptly leave again, without another word.

Dad had pulled us out in the middle of the day, this time. While I was in the process of explaining the trials and tribulations that frontier men had in their perilous trek on the Oregon Trail. Walking out of those giant double doors, I knew that we would never be back here. Dad always said 'never go back to the same place twice, it causes trouble'. But what if I wanted to go back, go back to place where I entered high school and got my first locker.

Walking down the steps, and towards the Impala, I saw that Dean was sharing a very passionate goodbye with his girl from Delaware.

After Dean had said his final goodbyes and farewells I casually took my residence beside the car as Susan Wellin sobbed her way back to Chemistry class. "What is it this time?" I asked with an edge of malice in my voice.

"A Shape shifter and its evil spawn have been terrorizing a local inn off the beaten path near some river in Connecticut. Dad thinks it is gonna take a little while so he is taking us with on this one." My big brother said as he walked around the car and unlocked his Baby.

Sliding in, I begrudgingly threw my books and all the contents that had assimilated in my locker over the course of three and a half months into the backseat.

"Don't you ever get tired of it Dean; the constant never-ending of moving around all the time, never having a set place to go to. Having to constantly introduce yourself?" I asked casting a sideways glance at my brother as he navigated the snowy streets back to our motel room to pick up dad.

The miles dragged on as we went from state to state, from hunt to hunt, tracking the yellow eyed demon's progress. Just always out of reach, never being able to truly put down roots and live like a normal teenager. Mine and Dean's home was all over the map, from a stint in freshman year that took us to Georgia, hunting a ghost of the high school Prom King. Which seemed fitting considering Georgia was named after King George II of England. Dad and Dean didn't get the symbolism. To that stretch of time where I felt like a normal student finishing out my sophomore year in Arizona, living out of the motel "Good Oak" with Dean when dad was off stalking some local legend. Signing yearbooks, and going to the dinner after the last final with a few of my buddies. I have never had buddies, no one really except for Dean. For once I was normal, just Sam. That summer we jumped from spot to spot on the map, from Alabama for a demon to Florida for a reaper who didn't know his limit. It seemed throughout the years; dad was moving them around even more than usual. Actually he was moving me around more than usual because Dean seemed to follow like a little love sick puppy, at dad's beck and call.

Eventually I finished my senior year in Virginia, with Dean in attendance at my inauguration into adulthood, the epitome of success at teenager's time, my diploma. I didn't need dad in attendance, because I had Dean and throughout every move and every new introduction he has always been right by my side. It was two weeks later that my acceptance letter came from Stanford, with a full ride scholarship. Dad was home from hunting a shade with uncle bobby, and that's when he found the letter and it began the Spanish inquisition.

"Sam what is this?" Dad questioned as he tried to keep his voice steady.

"It came?" I balked in astonishment and glee as I took in the size of the package that contained my ticket to getting out of this life and to truly becoming normal.

"Dad, how many times have I told you over the years, and the miles and the cuts and scrapes that I didn't want this life? I want a normal life outside of hunting and constant moves, that I want an education outside of the required twelve years.

"Sam it's our responsibility to protect others from things that go bump in the night" he laminated shaking his head.

"Dad yo-"the shutting of the door alerted the youngest Winchester that his older brother was back from gathering information on the latest case.

"Hey, guys what's going on here?" Dean questioned looking between my and dad's rigid postures.

'I got into Stanford Dean' I smiled joyously at my brother awaiting his approval and congratulations.

"You're not going and that is final Sam" Dad said brandishing my acceptance letter as a weapon.

Dean stood stock still, pale as sheet, for all intents and purposes he was mute.

"I AM GOING DAD" I yelled thinking if perhaps my voice was louder my ideas and wants would matter.

"If you go Sam, don't ever come back, if you walk out that door, don't bother showing your face again." Dad huffed out as I walked towards the door.

That's how I found myself in California, in a Stanford dorm room as the new kid with my new roommate Brady and saying my last introduction for a very long time. However it didn't matter if I was settled into this room for the next four years or I made friends that lasted longer than a few months at a time. I would always have my big brother.

Dean was my home all over the map.