This is just a short little one-shot i wrote while listening to Matt Kennon's The Call last night when I couldn't sleep. It's completely AU.

Dean curled in on himself, willing the images from his mind as he squeezed his eyes shut. This was his life now. A never-ending waking nightmare of PTSD. He was a soldier, until he was deemed unfit for duty after an IED blast. He wasn't horrifically injured, not like his friends had been, but what he'd seen was too much for his already traumatised mind. When he finally pulled his eyes open, they landed on a small framed picture. It was of him and his closest Army buddies, Copper, Charlie, Macka, Matty, Tommo, Stretch, and Daz. Three of them were killed in action, the same IED blast that ended Dean's career had taken some of his closest friends. Brothers. Matty and Daz had gone through basic training with him and Charlie was the young private he had taken under his wing. In a way, Dean had died too that day.

He reached for the picture, sliding the backing away he pulled out a handwritten note. He'd written it years ago, when he was shipped out for his first tour. Back then, dying was such a far-fetched idea that he had laughed when his Staff Sergeant had urged him to write it. Now, six years on, the words were irrelevant.

Dear Sammy.

They told me I should write this, so if the worst happens my family would get something. Last words, in a way.

I know you never approved of my following in Dad's footsteps, but I need you to know everything that I was always too cowardly to say to your face.

First I need you to understand that Im proud of you. I know that I didn't always show it but I'm happy that you moved away and found a life. I know that someday you'll be a hotshot lawyer and make a shittonne of money.

The second is that this whole Army thing was never about Dad, it was always about you. I'm your big brother, and it's my job to protect you. When you moved out and went to college I knew that I couldn't always be beside you to protect you, so this is my way of keeping you safe.

I love you, Sammy, and I know someday, when you have a wife and a few Rugrats running about, that you'll tell them of their uncle Dean and the mischief we made as kids.

Dean.

That had been before Dean received the call. He was in the home stretch of his second and final tour when he was pulled from a training mission for a meeting with the Colonel. Colonel Rivers was a scary man and Dean was worried that something bad was going to happen to him.

Rivers had been sensitive and fatherly as he told Dean about the accident, and that Sam had been killed.

After that, he re-enlisted. He had to. He didn't have any reason to go home, so he stuck with what he knew.

Now he knew nothing. The Army had been his everything after Sam died and that had been taken away from him, along with his three closest friends. He had lost all of his brother's.

Pulling out his notepad, he scrawled a few words. Writing was something the Army shrink had insisted on, but Dean had always written the same thing:

Mary Winchester 1954-1983

CPL John Winchester 1950-1995

Sam Winchester 1983-2005

CPL Matthew Davidson 1981-2007

CPL Darren Smythe 1982-2007

PFC Charles Barry 1988-2007

This time, Dean added a new name to the list:

SGT Dean Winchester 1979-2009

His eyes shifted to the drawer, and without wanting to stop himself, he opened it and removed his gun.

Dean didn't bother checking the clip, he knew it was loaded. He allowed some tears to fall as he held the weapon, but hastily wiped them away when his phone buzzed.

"Yeah." He answered, struggling to compose himself.

"Dean!" The voice on the other end was another army buddy, "it's Steve. Man, it's been a while, I hope you've been alright."

"Same old, Stevie."

"Listen, the reason I'm calling is that me and the family are heading to our lake house for the Fourth of July weekend, and I wanted to get the old crew up there."

"I don't think I'm going to make it, buddy."

"Aw, come on Sarge! It's not gonna be the same without you." He whined, then added as he remembered, "Hey, you remember that girl Beth? The friend of Jenna's that was all over you at our wedding? Jen invited her, and I let it slip that you were coming. She lit up, man. You can't let her down."

There was a silence as Dean listened to him mutter something in the background, probably to one of his kids.

"Listen, I've gotta go, but I'll text you the details. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

"You did, man, but don't worry about it. I'm really glad you called."

"So you'll be there?"

"I'll be there."

When Dean hung up, he let himself sob again. This time he wasn't crying for the life he was ending, he cried for the life that was saved.

Dean arrived at the lake house when the grill was fired up and Steve grilled sausages and steaks while he sipped on a beer.

"Sarge!" He called when he spied Dean, "You're here, man!"

"I'm here." He smiled.

"You remember Jenna, don't you?" He pointed to his beautiful wife, six months pregnant with their third child.

"Of course I do." He grinned and hugged her.

"I don't think you've met her sister, Annabelle, and her partner Michael." Steve did the introductions, "And of course you know Macka, Tommo, Stretch, and Copper's inside."

Dean grinned at his old buddies. Some of them he hadn't seen since his discharge over four years earlier.

During Dean's service, they had all been his subordinates, with the exception of Macka, who had been a Sergeant like himself, but they were his friends first.

"How you doing?" Dean asked them.

Macka opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a shout of "Sarge!" From the house.

Dean looked up to see Copper coming towards him, his wife Elaine following.

"Copper." Dean grinned and hugged the older man when he approached.

Of course, Copper wasn't his real name. Timothy Daughtry had been a police officer in New York until 9/11 when he had enlisted.

Copper hugged Dean and pressed a beer into his hand.

"It's been a long time, brother."

"Too long." Dean agreed.

"Sarge," Steve interrupted, putting one arm around Dean and steering him toward Jenna, Elaine, and a young blonde woman Dean had only seen once before.

"Beth, you remember the Sarge?"

She stood from her seat and smiled sweetly at Dean. "It's Dean, right?"

"Yeah." He grinned at her awkwardly.

"Great." Steve looked between his friends. "Well, who's up for some water skiing?"

"I love water skiing!" Beth said, laying a hand on Dean's bicep. "You'll come, right?" She pouted a little.

"Of course he's coming." Steve punched him lightly. "Come on, let's go before we get too drunk."

"Daddy!" A little girl rushed toward him, her dark curls bouncing as she launched herself at Steve.

"What is it baby?"

"Bow!" She pointed at the boat, still a little rusty with her with her words.

"No way, is this Gretel?" Dean asked, taking the two-year-old from her father's arms. "Last time I saw this little one, she was just a baby. Look how grown up you are." He spoke the last part to the child.

"Yeah, she certainly grew up." He grinned at his daughter, "This means you haven't met Addison, doesn't it? She's sleeping now, but man, she's sweet." He pulled out his phone and showed him a few photos.

"Wow, she's really something, man." Dean grinned.

"Dad, bow!" Gretel whined.

"No, Gretty, just grown-ups on this one."

Gretel huffed and wriggled out of Dean's grasp and ran over to her mother.

"Come on, Stevie," Stretch yelled, "I heard boat!"

They looked over and Stretch—all six foot seven of him—was forcing the skis on to his giant feet.

"Looks like it's boat time." Dean laughed.

The wind whipped at his face, and Dean closed his eyes, allowing the sensation to fill him. All he could hear was the growl of the boats engine and the whoops and cheers of his closest friends. Beth was nestled on his lap, one arm around him, her blonde hair flying in the breeze. Her sun kissed skin glowed, complimented by the yellow string bikini she wore.

Dean couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy—no, he could. It had been before his first tour and he, Sam, Macka, Tommo, and Daz were drinking in a college bar in Dean's hometown of Lawrence, just days before they shipped out. That was almost ten years ago. He glanced behind the boat, just in time to see Stretch dip is ski too far and wipeout. He joined in with the laughter as Stretch surfaced and signalled for the boat to go again. Dean glanced up at Beth to see her staring down at him, studying him.

"You look happy." Was all she said.

He brought her face closer for a quick, soft kiss before whispering, "I am." And for the first time in a very long time, he truly meant it.