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"Another night, another Wendigo." Dean said as he dropped the flamethrower into the trunk.
“Yeah." Sam said flatly. "Another one down." He added a light chuckle.
"You okay, Sammy?" Dean already knew the answer. He knew the tone in Sam's voice, something was eating at his brother.
Sam didn't answer, at least not with his voice. He gave a look as he opened the door of the Impala. Dean knew that look too. Before too long him and Sam would be having one of their famous talks.
It was dark that night. Not much traffic on the highway. A fresh snow had just settled in.
The mountains of Colorado offered a strangely peaceful drive. There was nothing to hear but the occasional passing car and Baby's radio.
"Dust in the Wind" by Kansas was on, and while Dean preferred "Carry on Wayward Son", this was still a good one, and he knew Sam enjoyed it too.
When they reached their hotel room they were both exhausted. Sam immediately dropped into a chair, sighing as he did so.
Dean looked up and rolled his eyes in mild frustration. “Alright, lay it on me.” He said, holding his arms as if to take Sam's burdens.
Sam looked up, trying to feign confusion at first, but quickly giving up and sighing again. “It's just… I've been thinking… wondering really… what would my life be like right now if you hadn't shown up in my apartment that night…”
Dean was silent, waiting on his brother to continue.
“Don't get me wrong, you're my brother and I love you and I'm glad we get to help people but…”
“You wonder how things would be with Jess.” Dean finished for him.
“Yeah… kinda.”
“Look, I get it, I do. I used to wonder how we both would have been if mom had lived. Now you know I'm not one for the whole 'what's meant to be’ thing but… maybe that life… just wasn't meant to be for you. For either of us for that matter. And all this wondering what if… it'll only kill you.”
Sam nodded. Dean knew this was just about all he was getting from his brother tonight. He walked over to Sammy.
“Alright.” Dean patted his brother’s shoulder. “You should try to get some sleep. Got a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, the Siren.” Sam returned.
“Sirens.” Dean corrected. “Gonna be a lotta fun, so rest up.”
Sam stood up long enough to walk over and turn the lights out, before slumping back into his chair.
The next day was spent mostly driving. Except for the occasional stop for gas.
Sam remained quiet most of the ride as well.
“Alright,” Dean finally said. “Spit it out.”
“Spit what out?”
“What's wrong with you man?”
“I told you last night.”
“You told me some of it.” Dean replied shortly. “don't you think I don't know you well enough by now? Now, spill it.”
“Alright…”Sam finally broke. “I just, I wonder what it'd be like if I would've forgotten about this life, just kept moving, you know?”
“What do you mean keep moving?” Dean questioned. “Sam, we move all the time. That's in our job description. We move every day. I mean, look, we're moving right now.”
Sam glared slightly at his brother. “You know what I mean, Dean.”
“No, actually, I don't. I keep waiting for you to tell me.”
“I just wonder what I would have been if you hadn't shown up at Stanford that night. I mean would I have aced that interview, become a lawyer, married Jess and had the whole white picket fence life? Or would I have failed and worked at the nearest Biggerson's?”
Dean shook his head. “Well Sammy we are a lot of things but, waiters… That's not one of 'em.”
Sam scoffed.
“Alright, alright. Look… I don't know what your life with Jess would have been, and I'm sorry that you never got to find out. But maybe that life wasn't even meant to be. I mean who knows, if I hadn't come for you that night, maybe we'd both be dead and everyone we saved would be too.” He sighed. “You know I'm not one for fate… but maybe that was.” He clasped his younger brother’s shoulder. “I truly am sorry Sammy.”
“I know. And… I know you're right. But it still hurts sometimes, ya know?”
“I know, man. I know.”
They continued their drive in silence, both wondering what might've been.
End