Chapter Rating: PG/K+

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine really though some of the attributed personality traits and character developments are my doing entirely. Basically, they all originated from somewhere else, I just molded them and warped them to suit my own needs for my amusement and, hopefully, yours.

Warning: This program contains scenes of nudity, sexuality, and coarse language, and also portrays scenes of a drug use, alcohol abuse, and violence. Viewer discretion is advised. I joke. Nothing much goes on in this chapter, hence the PG rating. It's clean and wholesome unless you consider pie to be pornographic. If this is you, you may want to read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sam Winchester, with the aid of his brother and, grudgingly, his father, moves into his dorm at Kansas State University. As he prepares to adjust to what could be the biggest and best change in his life, Dean proves absolutely nothing has changed in his…yet.

Author's Notes: I set up this story with little Easter eggs of sorts. Basically, bonus points to anyone who can pick up on references here as I think, as the story progresses, you'll realize I've jammed them in en masse (but hopefully subtly enough that it doesn't seem ridiculous - don't worry, no dialogue that's simply pages taken from the Back to the Future script or anything like that…) Not all chapters promise to be THIS long, but the only natural break seemed to be right here. Still, I have a feeling this story will be fairly lengthy as I don't want to rush the progression of the relationships. Let's keep it somewhat plausible, right?

I'm not 100% sure on the accuracy of the layouts of anything at KSU as I've never been and all my information is based on the websites and my own university experiences. I've never even been to Kansas.


Moore Hall stood imposing and appropriately institutional in the sweltering summer heat. Students new and old were buzzing around the area, chattering away with their parents and each other as they settled in for a new year away from home. There was a sense of anticipation that hung in the air like the heat and it was wonderful. Sam Winchester surveyed it all from the side of his dad's Chevy Impala, admittedly another thing of beauty, and tried to hold back a smile. Sure, he and his dad hadn't been on great terms lately, arguing over Sam's decision to not only go out to Manhattan for school but to abandon the family business and "figure things out" once he got there, but he wasn't one to seem callous. Smiling would've only just hurt or pissed John off, and both end up looking the same anyway, and don't even mention Dean…

"You sure this is the house you got sorted into for Hogwarts, Sammy?"

Sam's face cracked into a smile in spite of his efforts as he turned to his brother.

"That's what it says on the paper, so I'm pretty sure." The thread of impertinence in his tone didn't go unnoticed and Dean swiftly elbowed him in the ribs, the two chuckling at one another in the moment. It petered off steadily into an almost solemn silence, smiles fading in sync as they had their whole lives. Everything was going to change; they knew it, could feel the reality of it seeping into their very bones, thick and fast and aching. Sure, most days Dean would only be a two hour drive away, but this – this constant, fluid partnership – would never quite be the same. School was going to change Sam without a doubt, hopefully for the better, and Dean couldn't help but feel a little bitter about that.

"You're gonna stop by once in a while, right?" Sam knew. Sam always knew.

"Bet your ass I will. Gotta get friendly with some of the hot intellectual types-" Dean's mouth hung just a fraction as his eyes tracked a book-laden blonde in a mini skirt. The boyish smirk that pulled at his lips left Sam rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a snort. "Well, duty calls," Dean announced, bouncing up from the side of the car with a much more mischievous grin.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He froze, glee faltering a touch to make room for his indignance and expectation.

"What?"

"No, Dean." In an instant Dean's face morphed into a mask of irritation, the beginnings of a pout forming. "Not right now, dude. You are helping me haul crap up to the dorm, remember? Do whatever the hell you want after, but for now…" From the trunk a huff of a laugh could be heard from John, a rare blessing that instantly captured the boys' attention.

"That's right, son. Three of us better get moving with these boxes, the sooner the better." In that moment everything at the core of the differences between Sam and Dean became startlingly clear; slumping slightly against the Impala, Sam flinched and withdrew into himself, the polar opposite of the newly stiff and militaristic obedient Dean.

"Yes, sir," he said, sharp and steady, all business and reverence. Sam stifled a groan. John nodded his approval, unmoving from the trunk end, all amusement drained from his features. Not even a second passed before Dean was on Sam like a drone.

"You heard the man, Sammy. Grab a box and get your ass in gear."

Their eyes connected and a wordless conversation passed between them, all the differences and compromise, all the hopes and fears of just that moment bubbled up and got pushed back down again in what many would assume to be true telepathy. Sam yanked open the door Dean had been leaning on, grabbing the nearest box he could come to and actively avoiding his father. Scowling back at his brother briefly, Dean made his way to the back to take a crate from John, leaving just one last box in the back seat and a rucksack full of random items laid oddly in the footwell.

Sam's stomach flopped in anticipation when everything beyond the hall doors came into clear view, independence edging closer with each step, and all his fears and thrills with it. The foyer of Moore Hall was warm and bright, far more welcoming than the exterior promised but every bit as busy. Moving carts piled with boxes, televisions, all manners of household items weaved around the floor and past the reception desk to the elevators. At his side Dean whistled in awe of the chaos. Another soft smile tugged at Sam's lips and he found himself nodding without intending to as he pushed his way through the throng to the front desk. A sweet, awkward smile and some small talk bordering on flirtation and Sam had his room key and some rather official looking paperwork. His dad was already standing at the door to the elevators, box at feet, but Dean was hovering in between, instinct to stick close to his little brother warring with his need to please his father. Dad was winning but only just.

"Need the passcard to get in, dad," muttered Sam, sliding past with Dean in tow. Shifting the box clumsily to rest on one knee, he leant forward and scanned his new car, reveling briefly in the feeling of control. It was lame, absolutely nothing to be proud of really, but in his life he'd had few occasions to feel in charge and it was awesome. The door rolled open automatically and a fair sized crowd barreled through the gap instantly, John and Dean at the head and Sam trailing behind.

"Which room you got Sam?" John's gravel tone cut through all else going on. It would've startled Sam if he'd not grown up with it but he still had a certain awe for the man's completely commanding presence.

"719. Floor 7."

All eyes on the Winchesters, a strange sort of nervous, expectant quiet fell over the room broken only by the distant mechanical whir and heavy thud of the elevator's arrival. Another smile graced Sam's lips and he passed between the doors, another step closer to freedom.

"It's gonna be a bit cramped, hey?" Dean groaned as the last box thunked down on the concrete floor. It was true; bringing Sam's belongings into the already cozy room had turned into somewhat of an obstacle course of lame but nevertheless challenging proportions. Crammed into the corner was a tiny desk and chair adjacent to the closet, leaving only a few feet of free space for the door to swing through before the real trial of navigation began. It wasn't that Sam had a lot of boxes (quite the opposite really) or that they were bordering on large economy sized (as they were actually fairly small considering they held everything he called his own) but the single community bathroom suite he'd opted for was proving to be even smaller than the pictures had prepared him for. Nevertheless, this was his room, his alone. It was a stable, constant place for him to return to, and it was his path to escaping his father and the pressures of family expectations. It was beautiful.

"A bit, I guess," Sam mused, a genuine smile creeping upon his face, "But I can handle it. I'll make it work. I think realtors call it 'cozy' though." Dean chuckled, kicking a box further out of the way against its mates.

"Yep, cozy as a cardboard box, and several thousand times the price." The smirk and the hard pat to the back he offered Sam asserted that, regardless of the situation or the all too recent height difference between them, he was still the older, bigger brother there. A little spark of guilt hit Sam in the chest as he realized just what all the gestures meant, pieced together with that lingering look of sadness behind Dean's eyes. Dean was still stood by his side when he turned to him, all the mirth gone from his face and replaced with a softer remorse.

"Hey, look Dean-"

"Sammy, no." His hand was raised in warning and he shook his head just once. "Don't get all soft on me now. We don't need it, don't have the time, and I'm too damn hungry to give a rat's ass anyway." Typical. Though the guilt remained, Sam stepped back and laughed gently. He twisted his brother around to the window, pointing down to the nearest building that was teeming with students on the path below.

"Well, there's a café and bakery right over there, dude. Remember passing that? It's called a dining center for a reason so relax, you'll get to eat in a couple of minutes. We were gonna head out at

lunch anyway, just needed to make sure everything was up here." The instant reaction written across his brother's face was priceless and Sam couldn't help but tease him further. "Maybe," he continued with a smirk, cutting Dean off before the words could even form, "you'll even find some really good pie the-"

"You've got everything you need, Sammy. We're done up here. Let's go." For the second time that day John laughed, leant against the doorframe looking only mildly less imposing with a slight smile.

"Don't think that getting pie means you're done though. You get your food and you're back up here helping me unpack everything, okay?" The tone and severe look Sam shot Dean was clearly halfhearted, and Dean made an overly exaggerated salute, belting out a 'Yes, sir' for effect. "Oh, just get out, Dean…"

Derby Dining Center was bright and clean, swimming with all manners of beautiful aromas and lined with a plethora of different restaurants and types of cuisine. What mattered most to Dean, who seemed to be moving at twice his usual speed, was the bakery and the prospect of fresh-

"Oh baby, oh baby. Yes." His jaw was slack and his eyes bright as he settled on a shelf populated solely by pies. It was a sign of his growing maturity that his nose wasn't pressed up against the glass. Before Sam could head over to join him Dean was already heading back with an armful of oyster packs and a childlike grin on his face. From the side John said nothing, but Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes enough for the both of them.

"Seriously?"

"What? Got one of each. One slice for now, more for the ride home. S'important to have snacks for the drive, and it's important to have pie." He started moving to an open table with barely a glance at Sam, struggling with his bounty. They teetered open landing, swaying dangerously enough to freeze Dean to the spot, hand splayed at the ready.

"Yeah, sure thing," Sam muttered as he slid into a seat, far more occupied with watching his father from afar as he ordered his own food. "Bet it doesn't even last 'til the end of the day."

"Yewonzami…" he mumbled around his fork, challenging glint in his eye. "Damn." Sam raised his eyebrow, concerned but somewhat reserved in skepticism. "I forgot about my-" There was a squeaky shuffling as the polystyrene packs were shifted around and opened in a strange desperation. With another childish grin he stopped. "Yes! Bacon double cheeseburger. You know," a lengthy pause to take a bite that ended with several moments filled with near obscene noises and some faces that made Sam begin to feel incredibly uncomfortable, "God, this place is just- Sammy, you have to stay here. Do a Masters, I don't care. This burger is incredible."

"Must be," Sam chuckled, eyeing the abandoned package, "for you to leave pie alone." He leaned forward with a mischievous grin and snatched it away, earning a venomous glare from his brother.

"Duntchudur yuwasso."

"What was that? Couldn't quite understand you." Dean's eyes narrowed as Sam took the fork and stuck it into the pastry, peeling it away from the fruit as he knew perfectly well would piss Dean off immensely. It worked, of course, leaving him deadpan in a bid for control.

"Whatever. Be a dick. Just make sure you watch your back. Burger's better anyway."

"Oh, I bet it is."

"Shut up, Sam." They both smirked, going back to their food, enjoying the moment that was so like many others yet felt distinctively different in the periphery.

"Don't worry kiddo, I'm an expert. No, seriously, I know everything you could possibly need or want to know about this place. Could give tours – well, not that they'd want that of course…" Over the edge of his burger Dean smiled and watched the exchange, taking a quick cursory glance at Sam. It was comfortingly familiar. I'll look after you, alright?" The boy smiled down lovingly at his burger-obscured companion, sibling Dean assumed. In an attempt at subtlety he brought the burger to his mouth, eyes following it until they closed, and started chewing happily. When he looked back up again he very nearly choked.

Looking back up with an equally adoring smile was a boy of barely 18, face as angled and strong as it was soft and boyish, framed by a perfect mess of dark hair, all highlighting the most shockingly blue eyes. He was focused completely on the other boy standing before him and Dean, through his spluttering coughing fit, felt a jolt of jealousy run through him.

Well, the boys' attention didn't remain fixed for much longer, heads snapping to the rather loud and inelegant display, and when the blue-eyed one actually locked eyes with Dean from across the cafeteria things got much worse.

"Kay, I'm going to the john. Think you can handle orderin' some food while I'm gone, bro? You know what I like." With another affectionate smile he patted his brother on the head before turning to leave, heading directly towards Dean. In spite of himself Dean felt his stomach drop in anxiety; though physically he didn't look all that intimidating with his shaggy golden hair and short stature there was a definite dark determination and fury in his eyes, the tight lines of his lips and jaw that Dean knew intimately. The boy passed, sight set on Dean with eyes still blazing in warning, nodding as if to finalize his unspoken threat. Dean swallowed hard but was resolute. Once the coast was clear he darted out of his seat fast enough to leave it spinning and squeaking with the force, earning yet another groan from Sam.

"No, wai- Dean! We still have to unpack my- Damn it." Defeated, Sam sighed in exasperation, stabbing at the empty pie case in hopes that Dean wouldn't be off flirting for too long.

The boy cocked his head to the side quizzically once he realized he was being approached, unafraid and eerily gentle in spite of his evident confusion. It didn't do much to calm Dean's nerves or excitement, and he had to shove his hands into his jean pockets just to look sane.

"Hey." Even though his slide into the empty seat before him was slick, the single word he uttered managed to sound incredibly lame and Dean cringed. The boy didn't seem bothered by it at all, merely sticking to his confusion.

"Um…hello." Dean unintentionally blinked, taken aback by how this strangely ethereal, small guy could possibly have such a gravelly, deep voice. He swallowed and shifted in his seat, captivated and brimming with questions.

"Freshman?"

"Yeah. Are you?" Though the nervousness still held in his frame, his voice was softening, easing into Dean's presence.

"Me? Nah, I'm seeing my little brother off. I don't even go here, doing auto tech at Washburn. You didn't even ask. I should just…anyway." With a nervous cough and a silent derision at his

nerves, Dean caught the boy's gaze again and faltered. He was softly laughing. "I, uh..yes, anyway. I'm Dean." He moved to extend his hand, cringing once again when he realized what the hell he was doing, and slowly slid it back. Smooth.

"Castiel."

"Castiel? What is that French or something? It's really unique."

"Hebrew actually, though there is a place in Switzerland with the same name." Castiel's smile spread and Dean couldn't help but reciprocate. "Funny you should mention French though, my family has some French ancestry."

"Really?"

"Castiel Descieux. Yeah, just a bit." Dean chuckled.

"I figured your history was from a little further East."

"Well, there's a little of that, too. What about you?" Relaxing, Dean slid back, getting more comfortable.

"Us Winchesters pretty much wandered all over the place but still managed to stay almost purely American, well…after our ancestors came over from England that is. Think maybe one of my grandfather's grandfathers something or others was German. Nothing real exciting." Another smirk and he narrowed his eyes flirtatiously, nerves completely dissipated. "I prefer to think of the guns."

"Guns?" Castiel uttered quietly, perplexed.

"Winchester rifles? No? Not your thing, I take it? Makes sense. Let me guess, you're doing a degree in something artistic, right." There was no derision in his voice and no disappointment, just opportunity.

"Communications, so not really."

"I'm not really too good in that area as you can tell. I, uh, don't suppose you'd mind teaching me what you know, maybe over the phone some time?" With one hand he procured a business card from the top pocket of his jacket, nonchalantly passing it over to Castiel with a playful grin. "I really need the help." Castiel paled slightly looking suddenly thrown by the subtle declaration of Dean's intent but recovered well, only stuttering for a moment.

"Um, yeah. I…okay. I'll call you then, Dean." Grinning triumphantly, Dean slid out of his seat, receiving a shocked but genuine little smile from Castiel.

"I've gotta go deal with Sammy but, uh, before I go, just in case you lose my card, any chance I could have your number? Like I said, I really need to brush up on those communications skills." Another quiet laugh and Castiel scribbled hurriedly onto a piece of scrap paper, pushing it across the table. "Thanks, Cas. I'll talk to you later?" The other boy nodded, earning a wink from Dean before he wandered back over to his own table and the rather bored looking occupant.

Dean slid back into his seat with the grin still spread across his face.

"Went well?"

"Oh, Sammy, baby," he cooed, sinking lower in the chair, "I am definitely coming to visit." Right on cue John returned with a carrier bag and a tray of food, dropping both with no delicacy whatsoever and taking the time to study Dean. His eyebrows raised a touch.

"Been harassing the girls again, boy?" It was less of a question and more exasperation for John though secretly he was pleased his son grew up to become such a ladies' man. Dean very nearly faltered.

"Something like that, yeah." He turned to stare down Sam in warning, knowing full well before he even looked that his brother would be biting back a laugh.

Standing in the pathway to Moore Hall watching the Chevrolet that had been his whole life pull away Sam felt simultaneously small and incredibly big. As all he'd ever known left his sight his new life began, and it was every bit as thrilling as it was daunting, but he was still in Kansas. Dean was just 2 hours away. The strings were still attached by fraying edges. It was comforting to know that at least.