-Cedar Wells, Arizona-

-December 4, 2011-

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“That’s a big hole.”

“A big hole,” Sam repeated.

“That’s what I said. It’s a big freakin’ hole. And somehow that river got stuck inside it.”

Sam shook his head sadly. His brother leaned casually on a railing, peering into the canyon. Across the way, the lowering sun’s rays slanted in from the west, dripping gold paint across horizontal layers of pale rose, buff, and salmon strata of shale, limestone, and sandstone. Sometimes Sam had to wonder if Dad had destroyed Dean’s soul altogether. “Dean, nature worked miracles for millions of years to create the Grand Canyon—the Colorado River’s the reason it’s there.”

Dean turned slowly, fixing Sam with a steady glare. From the way his mouth curled into a mischievous grin, Sam knew he’d been had. “Just because I didn’t go to Stanford doesn’t mean I’m an idiot, college boy,” Dean said.

“I didn’t say . . .” Sam paused, stuck. Dean loved to give him crap about having attended Stanford and almost graduating prelaw—while Dean carried on the family business.

“Look, Sam, I know what made the Grand Canyon. I know about erosion. I even get why you wanted to stop here while we—”

“We were just passing so close.”

“What did I just say? Dude, are you even listening to me?”

When Dean got in this kind of mood, there was no winning. After his years at college, away from his big brother, Sam had to learn Dean’s habits and quirks all over again. These last months, riding around the country in Dean’s precious Impala, he believed he had reacquainted himself with most of those traits, good and bad.

Didn’t stop him from stepping right into it from time to time. “It is pretty spectacular,” Sam said, hoping to change the subject.

"Whatever, where's Cas? Thought I've told him to came with his feathery ass in here." Dean signed with a roll of his eyes.