It had started as a joke.

When they were young it usually fell to Dean to buy the supplies that Sam and him might need to survive while their dad went off on a hunt. John would leave a wad of cash on the table and Dean would use it to buy whatever they needed at the time from the closest grocery store. At first, Dean would buy whatever he thought they needed and left it at that. After all, he was the one who was shlepping it down to the store and back, which meant he got to choose what kind of cereal they got or what brand of soda they drank.

This idea was of course a pipe dream.

Even at a very young age Sam knew what he liked and what he didn’t like and to say he was vocal about it was putty it mildly. Dean was always hungry, so the thought of going without a meal out of spite seemed more like self punishment than actual protest so when Sam first said he would refuse to eat Dean brushed him off. After all, he would eventually eat.

Sam in fact did not eat.

Dean realized that his little brother had endurance that rivaled Ghandi and he eventually went back to the store to get what Sam wanted. After that Dean made Sam make a list of anything he needed before he left, making sure he wrote down anything specific. On that first list was Lucky Charms, orange Crush, any kind of meat that wasn’t a bird and a toothbrush.

As Dean wandered the Piggly Wiggly, checking off the items on the list in one hand and making sure he had enough money in the other. When he came to hygienic isle he began to grab toothpaste and mouth wash before reaching for a toothbrush. That was when he knew he had found his vehicle for revenge.

As soon as he got back to the motel Sam began to help him put the groceries away, more to check what Dean had bought than to actual assist. Everything on his life had been bought and the younger Winchester felt a small amount of pride that he had succeeded on his first try.

That was when he pulled the toothbrush out.

“What’s this?” Sam asked holding the offending object in his hand.

Dean glanced once over his shoulder as he put the milk away. “Toothbrush.” he answered and turned away quickly before the smile gave him away. “You asked for one.”

Sam stood there in disbelief. “It’s pink.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek to stop from bursting out loud with laughter. “Is it? Didn’t notice.”

Sam wasn’t buying anything, he moved over and turned Dean around by the shoulder. Seeing the barely contained mirth in his brother’s eyes he knew he’d been had. “DEAN!” Not able to contain it any more Dean finally began braying out loud from the look of outrage on Sammy’s face. Seeing that this was indeed another preemptive strike in the ongoing war of being brothers Sam slapped him on the shoulder. “This isn’t fair! Pink’s a girl color!!”

Dean had put his arm up to defend himself from the slapping but looked peeked over his cover for a moment to toss out. “And? I think it fits you!”

“DEAN!!!”  Sam screamed again as the laughter hot louder.

“I’m not using it!” Sam protested, throwing the toothbrush to the ground.

Dean looked up, the laughter momentarily paused. “Oh yes you are.”

Sam crossed his hands over his chest. “No I’m not!”

Dean picked up the toothbrush and held it out to Sam. “You asked for a toothbrush. Not a blue one, not a white one and not a black one. You asked for a toothbrush, no specific color.” Dean tucked the package in Sam’s arms. “You will use it or go without.” Seeing that his little brother wasn’t going to budge he added. “And your breath will stink and your teeth will rot and you’ll end up looking like old Mrs. Jenkins from that one motel in Tulsa and no girl will ever kiss you.”

There had been a time when that threat wouldn’t have worked on Sam, but he was approaching that time when he knew he liked girls, even if he didn’t know why. He took the toothbrush and stomped off to the bathroom without another word. He used the toothbrush without complaint for the next few months until they had to ditch their stuff in a small ton outside of Cleveland and Dean was forced to buy another for him.

This time the list read One, not gay colored toothbrush.

Years passed and Sam left for college. Jessica never understood his passion for pickling out his own toothbrush but she didn’t question it. Quietly, Sam took great satisfaction in buying his own toothbrush, picking the color himself. It wasn’t until after the fire that he stopped caring.

The first time Dean went out and bought Sam a completely normal toothbrush. His brother was too angry, too ready to run for him to feel comfortable screwing with him. It wasn’t until they were almost a year on the road in Texas that Dean felt sure enough to tease Sam again. He had pulled grocery duty and asked if Sam needed anything before he left.

“Shaving gel and a toothbrush!” Sam called out from the bathroom.

Dean grinned as he left the motel room, knowing his brother had made a fatal error.

As they unpacked the groceries in silence Dean waited for Sam to find his request had been filled. Sam pulled the pink Dora the explorer toothbrush out of the bag. “Seriously?”

Dean broke into peals of laughter, holding his gut as the look of amusement and anger in Sam’s eyes battled for dominance. “Swiper no swiping my toothbrush either!” he said between laughs.

“You’re an ass.” was all Sam said as he headed off to the bathroom. He used the offending item for a week until he had the time to go replace it with a normal one.

The next time Dean had time to get his brother back was the Monday they drove into Florida. He’d seen Sam’s toothbrush was getting kinda of ratty and asked if he needed another. Sam, deep in research nodded yes but didn’t think much about it. The next day he found the pink, plastic toothbrush waiting for him that morning when they got up. Dean was gargling and sneaked a look over at Sam he held the gaudy pink tool. Sam sighed as he began to crush his teeth. He vowed that tomorrow he would buy a new one.



What he didn’t know was that Tuesday would last for almost a year.

Hundreds and hundreds of Tuesdays, with the same, ugly pink toothbrush. If Dean wasn’t being killed in a new and horrendous way every day Sam would have filed it down and stabbed him after the second month of it. That Wednesday he told Dean to pack his stuff because they were leaving, knowing as soon as they were out of town he would buy another one. And then Dean got shot in the parking lot. Sam spent the last year with that toothbrush, a last sign of his brother’s evil sense of humor. At times it was what drove him to hunt down the Trickster that had let him die, that one stupid pink toothbrush.

After Dean died for real Sam couldn’t stand to look at it.

It was just one in a long list of things that reminded him that Dean was gone. When he packed away Dean’s stuff and taped the box away, he made a mental note that he was going to need a toothbrush when he came back. Sam put a new, pink one in the box.

Now things were different.

He had fallen in with Ruby, been drinking demon blood and Dean hated him. They had been like two snarling dogs in a cage too small for them. Every conversation was a new excuse to fight, every word just another veiled shot across the bow. Dean had laughed when he unpacked his stuff and found the toothbrush, he threw it in the trash but he got the joke. It was the last time Sam remembered his brother laughing with him.

Things had been bad since Iowa and the siren had taken a form to sway Dean’s will. In a million years would Sam have thought that what Dean wanted so bad was another brother, a brother that was not him. They had said things in that room, hateful things that even here, a month away still hurt.

They hadn’t talked about it of course. That was standard Winchester operating procedure, if something was wrong don’t talk about it. Don’t discuss it. Just bury it away until it was a cancerous hatred that threatened to consume everything that had come before.

They had spent the last few days trying to get over the fact that their lives were the subject of a pretty bad series of paperback books transcribed by a prophet of God. Sam had dismissed the books as just another in an ever growing list of things that made their life seem surreal. But Dean hadn’t let it go. Every night he sat in whatever dingy motel they had settled in and read another book, cover to cover without fail. Sam had asked him what he was looking for one night and got a snarky. “Maybe I’m trying to remember a better time.”

Sam let it go.

The day before yesterday Dean and finished the last book. No Rest for The Wicked had been the last book Chuck had been able to publish and was a pretty exhaustive retelling of Dean’s last day on Earth. Sam had no idea why Dean would want to read that but there he laid on the bed, reading intently.

“I’m going out.” Sam had said after about three hours of nothing. He grabbed his jacket and looked over to see Dean staring at him intently. Though he didn’t ask anything the question was obvious to Sam. Sighing he jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’m going over to the bar across the street. Not to drink any demon blood. Is that ok with you?”

Dean’s face didn’t budge as he continued to stare through his brother for another five seconds before saying. “Whatever, keep your phone on.”

Sam flashed Dean a little two finger salute. “Sir yes sir.” before heading out the door.

Sam was into his third beer when Dean walked into the bar. Sam felt his shoulders tense up again and hadn’t even realized how on edge he’d been around his own brother lately. Dean slide onto the stool next to Sam and ordered a beer. After the bartender wandered off Dean pulled the book out of his jacket and slid it over to Sam.

“What do I want with this?” Sam asked, ignoring the paperback altogether.

“Read the epilogue.” Dean said before taking a long drink of his beer.

“Why would I want to do that?”

Dean put the mug down a little harder than he intended. “Just read the fucking back.” He stopped, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “Just read the last few pages for me.”

Sam grabbed the book and flipped to the end and began slimming the text.

“It was a nice service.”

Sam looked down at the faceless female and nodded as they patted his shoulder. Seconds after she walked away he had forgotten about her, that was how completely addled he felt. It was an oddly large turnout, more people that he thought would come. Halliey and Ben had come all the way from Colorado while Layla and her mother had flown in from Nebraska. She seemed so sad that she had outlived Dean she had left in the middle of the ceremony, Sam didn’t think she would be back. Detective Ballard had wept openly as the preacher had spoke of Valhalla and a heaven waiting for fallen warriors while Emily, still tired from driving in from Indiana, looked mad as she tore silently tore up the hymn page in her lap. Only two people didn’t make it. Cassie had sat in stunned silence as Sam had told her and then quietly hung up the phone, another word never said. Lisa had broken down crying, asking herself between sobs how she was going to explain to Ben that his…friend was dead. In the end she begged off coming and Sam couldn’t blame her. He wished he wasn’t here either. As they all piled out of the church only two people were left with Sam.

Bobby and Missouri.

Both came towards him slowly, the grief and sorrow was easily reflected in their eyes as Bobby put a hand around Sam’s broad shoulders “You ok son?”

Sam bit his tongue from telling Bobby he wasn’t his son but the moment quickly passed. Instead he nodded and said “Yeah, thanks Bobby.”

Taking a look at the psychic, Bobby removed his arm and said “I’ll make sure they get him to the plot. You two will be along?”

Sam nodded as Missouri said “Go on Bobby Singer, he isn’t going to go bat shit crazy right now. Give the boy some space.”

Bobby’s face paled about three shades but said nothing as he walked off.

“Bat shit?” Sam asked her.

“Oh honey don’t start with me.” she said pulling him over to a pew “I need to sit down, these damn heels make my ankles swell like I was pregnant or something.”

Sam helped her sit with a smile “If you knew they were going to hurt why did you wear them?”

Missouri looked up with a stern look “Cause I know how good my legs look in them, what’s your excuse for inviting all these people? You know seeing them grieve was going to hurt you.”

Sam’s smile dropped as if slapped.

She sighed as she rubbed her foot “Oh Sam, it isn’t over yet.”

“What?” Sam said leaning towards her “You mean there’s a chance? A chance Dean might come back? This isn’t over?”

She looked up at him with endless compassion and said “No honey I meant for you, it isn’t over for you yet.” and then softly “Dean’s gone Sam, you know that.” Sam pulled away slightly and Missouri asked “You DO know that right Sam?”

He nodded, looking away. She grabbed his face and pulled his eyes back to her “Don’t. Just don’t Sam.”

His eyes began to water as he said “He’s my brother, what do you want me to do.”

She sighed and let his face go “What I want you to do doesn’t matter. It’s what you are going to is the problem.”

“What am I going to do?” he asked, his voice choked with emotion.

She looked up at him and smiled with him, an expression devoid of any real mirth and said “You’re gonna go bat shit crazy for awhile Sam.”

That was where it ended. No to be continued, no real ending. Just those last few words. Sam tossed the book down, the words stirring up a whole slew of unwanted memories. “Ok. And?”

“Is that true?” Dean asked. Sam said nothing as he finished his beer. “Sam is that…”

“Yes ok?” he snapped at Dean. “That is what happened, down to the letter. Happy?”

Dean said nothing as he stared into his mug. After a few minutes he finished off the beer and threw some bills down on the bar. “We’re leaving, you need any supplies before we take off?”

“Toothbrush.” Sam answered, not looking at his brother.

Without a word Dean walked out of the bar. Sam actually wondered if his brother would be at the motel when he got back. But Dean was and they left the next day to nowhere in particular. They didn’t have a job nor a direction, Dean just drove and didn’t stop until that night.

He pulled the car over in the middle of nowhere and they crashed out for the night. When Sam got up Dean was still asleep in the front seat. Sam didn’t say a word as he slipped out the back seat. He walked around the car, stretch his back out as he mused about what to do next. This wasn’t going to work. They could not keep going like this before something snapped. Maybe it would be better if he left, just went his own way and let Dean go his own. They’d been together too long, maybe Dean really did hate Sam, maybe this had just ran its course.

Sam felt the film over his teeth and knew he had to brush his teeth before he did anything. He opened the trunk and rummaged through the bag of supplies Dean had stored before they left. Sam moved stuff around until he found the toothbrush near the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out and turned it around to open it…

And saw the dark pink piece of plastic staring back at him.

Sam grinned as he opened the package and began to brush his teeth. It didn’t mean things were fine…but it did mean they were getting better.