This is my first fic. Go easy on my ego, but be truthful. I'll love you no matter what.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except in my dreams.

"What's wrong with my brother, Cas?"

"Hey!" Sam's indignant response sounded from the bathroom. He stepped back into the room, dried his hands on a towel and was sure to drop the damp cloth on Dean's pillow for good measure. Jerk. "There's nothing wrong with me." He snatched up the laptop and climbed onto his bed, sliding up till his back met the headboard and gave Dean a parting glare before diving back into research.

"Yeah, yeah. Fine, whatever," Dean waved him off, his eyes fixated on the angel standing in the kitchenette. "Cas?"

"Hmm?" Castiel looked up from where he was poking at a plate of three day old food. Pointing down at the plate, "I'm confused. Are you trying to create life here?" This got a tittering laugh from behind the laptop monitor.

"Focus, dammit." Dean growled, rubbing on his forehead in frustration as he paced like a caged animal in the small hotel room.

"My apologies." The angel did his best to look apologetic. His best wouldn't win him any awards.

"My brother, Cas. I need to know what's wrong..."

" I'm right here."

"Shut up, Sam." Dean stopped his pacing to turn and look at his younger brother. The tension radiating off him in waves did little to hide the desperation in his voice. "I need to know. This has been bothering me…for weeks and I've let it go cuz I'm just so damned glad to have you back. But I can't keep ignoring it."

Sam lips tightened into a frown. This was the same argument that Dean had been trying to raise with him for a week. Sam had yet to take the bait and he didn't mean to start now. He shook his head at his brother and raised an upturned hand asking for Dean to continue.

"You're different. You know it and yet you don't seem real concerned about finding out why. Or even how you're back. My Samwould have been all over this in a month long Geekfest of research. This would be tearing My Sam up inside. He'd be worried sick about the newest version of freak he'd become."

"He?" Sam's forehead crinkled in such a classic Sammy way that for a split second Dean nearly took it all back. Nearly. Sam closed the lid to the laptop, setting it down beside him and slid to the edge of the bed. His long legs draped over the side, his hands loosely gripping the mattress. He cleared his face of tension and let it slide into his voice, effectively lowering his too cool voice by two octaves.

"So what? You think I'm some kind of doppelganger? Come on, Dean. We've been through this already. Really, what other way is there for me to prove to you who I am?"

"No, you're right. I know you're my brother. No one else in the world could be this much of a pain in my ass. But you are not My Sam. You're not Sammy. Hell, you're not even fighting me on this. If you think there's nothing wrong, then by all means, friggin' stand up for yourself. Get mad at me. Something." Dean scanned Sam's face for any sign of emotion and found none.

"No. You won't. You'll just sit there all non-committal and avoid the subject altogether. God! I'd like nothing better than to punch you right now. Maybe then I'd get some kind of reaction out of you. I get more emotion out of our friendly neighborhood angel dick." Dean raised a hand thumbing toward Castiel who gave a grunt of recognition without looking up from where he was still poking quietly at the science experiment gone bad.

"What do you want me to do, Dean? You want me to curl up in the corner and have a good cry over my time in Hell? It's not going to happen. Look, I'm sorry if you're having a hard time dealing with this. It wasn't my intention to…" Dean raised a hand for silence and took a moment to shake the look of shock out of his eyes.

"Your intention? Your only intention was to avoid me completely so you could go on hiding whatever's going on here. And you've succeeded, pal. For a whole freakin' year. And when you finally do announce your royal presence," Sam can't help but smirk at Dean's hands waving dramatically in the air. "I find that you've gone out and replaced me with the friggin' Robo-family. What the Hell, Sam?"

"Is that what this is about? Samuel and the others? Are you, are you jealous?" Sam's question was sincere which just pressed Dean's buttons even further.

"No!" Dean spun away from Sam, his hands reaching up into his hair to tug at the roots. "God, Sam! It's about you. I want the truth. I want my brother back and I really want to be able to trust your judgment and know that when it counts you've got my back."

"Dean, I do." He sighed sadly, lowering his head to his chest.

"No. Not really. Not in a while. You have a totally different agenda now. And I don't even know what it is! Whatever happened to the family business, Sam?"

"I'm there." Sam stood, finally showing just a hint of emotion. "Every single day. With you. Hunting things, killing things. Just like we've always done. I don't understand what the problem is."

"You're missing the point."

"Obviously," Sam groaned, sinking again into the mattress.

"It used to be that we did this to help people. Hell, I still do. But not you. Not anymore. Like I said, different agenda. You and your new Robo-family have this hush-hush ulterior motive that I'm not privy to. And I don't know if it's them or your time in hell, which by the way you still won't talk about, or if it's something else altogether. But I intend to find out, one way or another." His chest heaving from the emotional exertion, Dean turned back to where Castiel was now waiting quietly, watching and listening. "So, Cas, please." He cringed at the pleading in his own voice. "What's wrong with Sam."

"Other than his soul, there is nothing wrong with Sam."

"My soul?" Sam squeaked.

Dean flashed Sam an 'I told you so' glare and then whipped his head back around towards Castiel. "His soul?"