you're it, caroline... you're the one."

Dean opened the door as quietly as he could. It was nearly four in the morning, and there was a good chance Sam was already sleeping. But when he found all the lights on and Sam sitting Indian-style at the edge of his bed surrounded by papers, he felt just a tiny bit relieved.

  Sam glanced up from the case they’d been working on and furrowed his brows. “Where the hell have YOU been? It’s almost four.”

  Dean offered him a lopsided smile as he threw his keys down on the nightstand and shrugged out of his jacket. “I was working,” he replied, matter-of-factly.

  Sam narrowed his eyes and shook his head with a grin. “I’m sure you were,” he mumbled.

  Dean tugged his tee over his head and heard Sam chuckle.

  “Oh my God!” he replied, jumping off the bed and staring at Dean’s neck. “What is that… is that a hickey?” He scrunched his nose and leaned in closer to get a better look. He laughed louder. “Working my ass!” he said, poking the bruise with his finger.

  Dean couldn’t help but giggle a bit; his brother’s laughter was contagious. “Shut up, Sammy,” he warned before falling backwards onto his bed. His hands gathered behind his head and his ankles crossed. He shut his eyes and replayed the day’s events in his head. It had been one hell of an afternoon.

  “What? No sleazy remark?”

  Dean simply shook his head.

  Sam sighed and studied his brother’s face. He had a permanent smile on, something that never happened… ever. Sam was worried; as much as he enjoyed seeing his brother happy, relationships that last longer than a week for either of them always ended in fatalities. He knew what it would do to Dean if he found himself responsible for one. “How long have you been seeing Caroline behind my back?”

  Dean opened his eyes again, well aware of where Sam was going with this; he was about to get the lecture, the same lecture Dean had given him after Jessica. “Leave it alone, Sam,” he warned, a bit angry that his brother’s conscience was rearing its ugly head while he was trying to bask in the glow of his day.

  “What are you, like, her boyfriend now?”

  “NO!” Dean replied, all too quickly.

  Sam gasped and loosened up a bit. He laughed again and threw a pillow at Dean. “I never thought I’d see the day that my big brother the playboy fell in –“

  “You might not if you don’t shut your pie-hole!” Dean barked, stopping him from saying out loud what he already knew: he was in… deep.

      After several seconds – minutes more like – of letting the shock set in, Dean got a hold of himself just in time to watch Klaus and Caroline walking away hand in hand. He couldn’t think about her right now; as much as it killed him to see it, he had to see his brother before he dealt with her… and Klaus.

Marching into the school, he nearly sprinted down the hall until he was standing in front of room 112, staring through the checked glass. There, standing idly by the window, was Sam.

Dean opened the door without knocking and barged into the room. He didn’t breath a word… just waited for Sam to notice, to feel his brother’s presence like he always could.

“Office hours are…” Sam stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on Dean, a look of sheer horror finding its way to his stern features. “Dean,” he coughed, his voice merely a whisper.

“Hey Sammy,” he replied, biting down on his tongue to keep his temper in check.

“What are you…”

So much for containment. “What am I doing here?” Dean tried internally to get a handle on his anger, but all the fear he’d kept bottled up was threatening to explode, and he was never one who was capable of controlling his temper. “I thought Klaus had you by the damn short and curlies!”

Sam sighed, guilt radiating off his aura. He could feel all of Dean’s anger, his fear in the air. He hated being the cause of that, and he knew, no matter what he said, Dean would never understand his reasoning. “Dean, I was gonna call you…”

Dean laughed sarcastically and threw his arms in the air. “Oh, you were gonna call.” He began to pace before kicking a desk in his path, sending it flying backwards at an alarming rate. “Dammit, Sam, a year! You’ve been here for a damn year and you couldn’t find the time to put me out of my misery?!”

“Dean…”

“What the hell, Sam. I mean really; what the hell? I have been scouring the damn continent for you and here you are, fine and dandy, and you didn’t even have the courtesy to call me?!”

“I know,” Sam pressed. “Dean, I know. I just… I needed a break.”

Dean felt his expression twist with pain and he narrowed his eyes. “You what?”

Sam hit his lip and momentarily shut his eyes. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but he knew it was a lost cause now to try and take them back. Plus, it was the truth. As much as it hurt Dean to hear, and Sam to say, it was true. “Dean, you and I… we had a huge fight, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Dean growled, making his way to a corner and taking a deep breath. “How could I forget?”

Sam shut the door to the hotel and turned to head towards the car. He stopped when he found Dean propped up against the Impala, a shiny object in his hands. Sam’s stomach dropped and he swallowed hard, breathing in heavily and running a hand through his just-dry strands.

  Dean stared, bewildered at his brother, not even bothering to hide his anger and complete lack of support. He felt like he was going to explode. Sam had disappointed him only twice like this before, and neither previous occurrence ended well for them. “Sammy, what the hell.”

  Sam sighed nervously. “Dean,” he said, taking a few steps towards him and putting his hands up. “Just let me explain.”

  “What could you possibly say to make this okay?” He held up the flask and shook it, the sound of the thick liquid bouncing against the inside filling both their ears. “Haven’t you learned your damn lesson yet? You’re making the same mistakes all over again!”

  “No… I’m not,” Sam protested. “Dean, I’m not drinking it for revenge this time. I’m not drinking it for power. I’m drinking it for survival.”

  Dean’s eyes widened. “Survival?” he questioned, not believing his own to ears.

  “Katherine thinks it’ll help ensure my safety, that no creature would come after me.”

  Katherine? “Have you been doing this since we left Mystic Falls?!”

  “Yes. Look, Dean, the only thing worse than a human hunter is a hunter that’s a vampire. I’d be unbeatable.”

  Dean honestly couldn’t believe it. “Are you hearing yourself right now? Does that make any sense at all to you?”

Sam nodded and rubbed his hands together, the chill of the winter-spring transition getting to him. “Yes, Dean. It’s making perfect sense.”

  Dean rolled his eyes and dramatically threw his hand in the air. “It’s already started. I cannot believe this is happening again.”

  “Dean…”

  “Why do you keep picking these blood-hungry monsters over your own flesh and blood?” His outburst silenced his brother, who let a small gasp escape his lips. “We’ve been here before – right here. You remember how that ended? The damn Apocalypse, Sam. You may think you’re doing right by this, but believe me, you’re not. And if Cas were here, he’d tell you the same thing.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed just enough for Dean to notice. “Do you even know what’s right?”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Sam shook his head and balled his hand into a fist, placing it against his mouth in frustration. “Don’t act so self-righteous… not after the crap you pulled.”

  “So this is about Amy now? Don’t change the topic, Sammy. You can’t wish away the problem.”

  Sam cocked his head to the side. “You’re a walking hypocrite.”

  Dean laughed. “How’d you land there?”

  “I know what Caroline is.”

  Dean felt sucker-punched. He should’ve put the pieces together: Sam was hanging out with Katherine, Katherine hated Dean. Of course she’d spill the beans and try to screw Dean. “And?” he growled.

  “And?” Sam said, his voice raising. “And how come she’s still breathing? How come you didn’t waste her the second you found out she was a vamp?”

  “Because,” he started.

  “Because you fell in love with her!” Sam was yelling now, and his tone pissed Dean off more than the implication of being a two-faced bastard.

  “I’m not guzzling her blood like a damned junkie, Sam!” he challenged.

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  The thought of Dean doing such a thing made him laugh wickedly. He rubbed his chin and shook his head. “I don’t give a damn what you think,” he said, throwing his arms in the air. “In fact, if you want to destroy yourself again, be my guest. Just don’t expect me to clean up your mess again. I’m done.” Dean turned his back on his brother, which, he had a sneaky, suspicion. was a bad idea.

  Sam grabbed him by the shoulders and violently spun him around, causing his brother to momentarily lose his footing.

  Dean grinned angrily and cracked his neck. “You wanna go there again, little brother?” he growled, clearly referencing the fist fight they had over Ruby which resulted in Dean nearly splitting his head open.

  Sam shook his head, removing his hand. “It’s not worth it,” he spat. “You will never accept me.” “This is not you!” Dean shouted.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know me anymore.”

      “You walked out on me that night. What am I? Dad?”

Sam sighed, the weight of his decision finally hitting him. “You weren’t exactly blameless, Dean.”

Dean ignored his brother. “It was supposed to be us against the world, Sammy. What happened?”

Sam shut his eyes. “I needed time,” he whispered.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Away from me.”

“To sort out my anger, get my head on straight. Dean, sometimes – when you treat me like an idiot, you make me so angry that I just can’t breathe. I say and I do stupid things, we fight and do things that push us further apart. If I stayed in that room with you, it would’ve gotten physical again, and I’m not sure we’d have been able to come back from that.”

Dean shook his head and turned away. “A year?” he said quietly after a minute or so. “You needed a year away… no phone calls… nothing?”

Sam dropped his arms, defeated. He wasn’t sure how to make this right. Dean was right; he should’ve called, and he had no good reason for not doing so. It just slipped through his fingers, and he got comfortable being himself without having to worry about Dean’s opinion.

Sam tried to think of the perfect words to offer his brother, the perfect words to ease his mind. But he knew nothing would, so he said the only thing he could think to say. “Dean, I’m sorry.” A broken apology, complete with every guilt-ridden cell Sam had in his body.

Dean sighed. “You and me, Sammy, he replied, standing in the open doorway of Sam’s classroom. “We made that promise… after dad died, after Bobby… you wouldn’t abandon me, and I’d watch out for you, make sure you’d stay on the straight and narrow. I held up my end as best I could.” He left Sam with one last painful look. “Where the hell were you?” With that, he disappeared, heading down the hall and out the front door without looking back.

Dean felt his lungs burning as he gasped for air. He needed a drink, needed to bury those damn feelings.

It had been too much of an emotional day, and Dean Winchester didn’t do emotions.

****

Caroline flipped the pages of her novel silently; she was barely reading the words on the page, but she couldn’t bring herself to move from her spot on the couch. She didn’t want to face him; she was still so angry with him for the way he played with Dean’s emotions. But she couldn’t bring it up. No. Her loyalty was to Klaus, and that wouldn’t change.

He sauntered into the room and brushed his fingers across the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine. She inhaled and shut her eyes, letting his soothing voice carry her thoughts. “Lady Chatterly? My dear, you would’ve enjoyed Mr. Lawrence. One of the most eccentric men I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining with.”

Caroline closed her book and glanced up at him as he came around the couch and sat on the coffee table in front of her. “You met him?”

Klaus smiled and reached tenderly for her hand. “I did. He was quite an interesting young man.” He leaned forward and grabbed the book from her lap, running his fingers over the textured cover. “In fact, he told me he was hesitant to publish. It was I who convinced him to do so.”

She studied her lover’s strong chin, the way his eyes softened when he was reflecting back on a memory he cherished. She knew he was capable of good; she may be the only person in the world who knew this. But she often found herself wondering why he never shared the good with others.

“Why did you have to antagonize Dean today?” she blurted.

Klaus’ breath caught in his throat and he backed away from her, the softness in his eyes quickly replaced with darkness. “This is not something I want to discuss now, Caroline,” he said as he got to his feet.

Caroline stood too. “I don’t understand why you have to push people so hard.” She was stunned that she was still pressing the matter, and knew that she’d pay for that fact somehow later on.

He turned quickly to her. “Do not forget who challenged who first, sweetheart. Now let this go.” He ran his hand up the side of her arm.

She pushed his hand off of her and took a step back. “It was cruel, tormenting him like that. He didn’t deserve it, Klaus.”

He was angry; she could see it flashing through his eyes. “Why is this matter of your concern?”

“Because,” she started off strongly, but upon realizing she was backing herself into a corner, she lowered her voice. “Because he meant something to me a long time ago. And I know how he feels about his brother. I just… I just didn’t like watching him suffer like that. I especially didn’t appreciate you using me to carry out your heinous act.”