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"The fact is, there is no foundation, no secure ground, upon which people may stand today if it isn't the family."
Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie
Dean never really tried to be subtle most of the time. Oh, he could be sneaky with the rest of them if he had to be, but once he achieved whatever goal he had, subtlty went out the window. Like, for example, when the package came with the stuff he'd ordered for Sam. Though his brother had no idea he'd gone ahead and ordered this stuff, now that it was here, Dean wasn't going to just leave it sitting somewhere for Sam to just find.
Of course, there were slightly less obvious ways of letting his brother know about the package than dropping it unceremoniously in his lap and possibly eliminating any chance that Dean would ever become an uncle.
There had been a lot of swearing and a book or two lobbed at Dean's head, but eventually, Sam realized the package was a gift, and not his older brother just being a dick, though even Dean could admit that dropping it on his lap-slash-crotch was a dick move. Sam pulled out a penknife from his back pocket and cut through the tape. It was amazing to Dean how his brother could be so damned big and still remind him of a kid at Christmas whenever he got a present. At least this time it wasn't a Barbie and a sparkly baton.
"LSAT test books?" Sam asked.
"CDs come with them," Dean said. "Thought that was probably more important than the books, since you've done it before." He chuckled at the genuinely surprised look on the younger man's face. "Oh, come on, Sammy. You think I don't notice you looking at this law school stuff? You got so secretive about it I was sure it was porn, so I had to check your history. And though I did find a few sites..." His brother turned red at that. "...I saw you'd been really looking into law school again."
"What we do, it's important," Sam said. "And I'm not leaving you to do it alone."
"First of all, I've got Bobby and Cas. We work okay together. Second of all, there would still be summers, winter breaks, weekends when you're not slammed with work. And they even have a part-time plan at the University of South Dakota. It isn't Stanford, but I bet they'd jump at the chance to have you there."
"I didn't finish my last semester," Sam said.
"Because of one class." It was the only reason his brother hadn't finished in the usual four years.
"That doesn't matter to admissions departments."
"Won't matter at all. According to your records, you graduated from Stanford with distinction and departmental honors." Dean had memorized those phrases after Cas told him he wouldn't be able to make cum loudly jokes because Stanford didn't do the whole Latin thing.
"But that isn't right. Or fair to others..."
"I had Cas make up your last semester, and we had you get C+s in the two classes you were taking - by the way, Images of Women in Literature? even I know you only take that to get laid and you had a girlfriend already, so what was that about? - and still managed to come out of Stanford with an otherwise perfect record." They included notes in his file that he'd been taking only two classes to remain a part-time student, and that the tragedy of the loss of his girlfriend and apartment in a fire had likely contributed to his sudden drop in grades. Those were Cas's words. Dean had come up with the cover story and the angel had used the appropriate words to make it all official-sounding.
At that, Sam's conscience seemed eased, though Dean could see it bothered him, just a bit, that his 4.0 was now somewhere in the 3.9 range. Unfortunately for Sam, a person doesn't get to be fair and perfect.
It didn't matter, though, because the box quickly dropped to the floor and Sam pulled Dean into a bear hug. He kept thanking him.
"You're welcome for the books and all, but you know, you don't need to thank me for telling you to go to law school. You're a big boy. A really big boy."
"No, but having your support this time around, it's kind of awesome."
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Dean felt arms wrapping around him from behind. "You are not losing him." A warm cheek pressed against the back of his neck, its stubble comforting more than irritating.
"I know that," he said. "But it stirs up stuff I thought I was past."
"I think the fact that you bought him those books is a very big indicator that you are past it, Dean. And Sam is no longer the rebellious teenager looking to define himself on his own terms, out from under your father's thumb and your constant watch." Cas's arms tightened around Dean's waist. "You went to Hell so that he could live, Dean. I think Sam understands just how important he is to you."
"Helps that he doesn't want to miss the big milestones with Johnny, too." he said. "Call it an added incentive not to go off without a word again."
Dean knew that Johnny had also helped him to expand his world beyond Sam, too. He had to live for someone else, now. It had brought him Cas, not just as a friend but as something far more vital to the hunter's existence. Even if Sam went as far away as Stanford again, Dean was pretty sure he'd miss him but not feel like he'd lost a limb.
This time around, he could just be happy and proud.