DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters.
A/N: Just an AU I wrote for my own amusement - and hopefully yours as well.
Palo Alto, CA, January 22nd, 2004
Sam sat in the dim lamplight of the apartment he shared with Jessica. The cursor blinked, and he scrubbed a hand over tired eyes. It was past 11 PM. No, it wasn't THAT late... But Sam was usually an early-to-bed, early-to-rise type. He just had to finish this paper. He'd chosen to write it on Alexander Hamilton's law practice... But his mind was elsewhere.
Not for the first time, he looked toward the calendar. Jess's smurf calendar. He smiled. She liked to cross out the days, and he didn't. So they compromised and crossed out the days. That was why he'd noticed...why he'd remembered. That evening, as he'd crossed out the day, it had hit him. Dean's birthday was in two days. He'd be twenty-five. He hadn't seen Dean in almost three years. Hadn't called. But then again... neither had Dean called him.
Sam sighed. He knew Dean must've been hurt when he'd left. Oh, he'd known it the very night he'd sneaked off. But he couldn't be around their father one night more. The constant fighting... it tore at his soul. Every day he'd felt himself drift further from happiness. Sam just wanted more from life than John did. That was fine for John... but not for him. Still... he'd often regretted leaving Dean.
Without even thinking about it, Sam had picked up his phone. He flipped it over, and over, and over... Then finally unlocked the screen. He remembered Dean's number—though it wasn't in his contacts, he hadn't forgotten it. Of course, there was always a chance that Dean wouldn't still answer that phone, but Sam dialed anyway.
***SPNSPNSPN
It was almost 11: 30 when Dean's phone rang. He'd been asleep... ish. More accurately, he'd been pretending to sleep because he'd gotten tired of his Dad's lecture. "Be more careful." "Don't go getting yourself into trouble you can't get out of." "Stick with me, Dean." Yeah, sure he was right... but Dean was almost twenty-five. He wanted to try a solo hunt now and then. God knew he could. He bridled every time John told him to "hang back"... as if he couldn't handle it. But still he did as he was told... because it was John-Freakin'-Winchester; the best hunter in the whole world, and one of the only men on this earth that Dean looked up to.
But right now... he was sick of it. Right now, he was being petty. He'd regret it in the morning. He'd go like a beaten puppy to John and apologize for his attitude. And things would be fine. But tonight, John was researching late... away from the motel, and Dean was pretending to sleep.
Then his phone rang. Reaching one hand out of the blankets, he slapped his hand on the desk beside his bed, thumping around until he found his cell. He picked it up, expecting to see John's number. Maybe he'd found something, or needed help.
Instead, he saw an unfamiliar number.
Dean frowned, but flipped the phone open anyway. "Yeah?"
There was a long pause, during which Dean almost hung up...
"Dean?"
Dean was suddenly aware of the silence in the room. His eyes widened and he sat up, as though he'd see the face connected to the voice. "Sammy?"
A quiet, uncertain laugh followed. "Yeah. Hey."
All at once, Dean felt three things. He felt relief. Sam was okay. He felt worried—after all, why would Sam call unless there was trouble? And he felt angry. Really, really, REALLY angry. "You okay?"
"Yeah, man. I'm good. You?"
"I'm p!ssed."
Sam was quiet for a good ten seconds. "Dean..."
"Don't 'Dean' me. Dude—it's been years. Not a call, not a word from you..." He wasn't about to admit that he'd driven to Stanford... just to make sure Sam was there, and all right. Nope. He was still too bitter to tell his little brother that.
"Look Dean—I'm sorry. I knew you'd be angry, and I figured you'd probably rather I didn't."
Dean sighed. "No, man..."
"How's..." Long pause. Sigh. "How's Dad?"
"Grumpy and fine, when he left a few hours ago."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, that sounds normal."
Dean finally cracked a smile.
"Where you at? Hunting?"
"Yeah. Texas."
"You finished up there yet?"
"Just rolled in. Don't even know what we're up against yet. Dad's got an idea, but he hasn't shared it yet."
"Just like him..." Sam muttered.
"Hey..."
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Where in Texas?"
"Brownsville. Tiny little nowhere town."
"Maybe I'll send a postcard."
***SPNSPNSPNSPN
The second Sam hung up, he shut his laptop and stood up. He had to pack.
Sam was a blur. Grabbing his backpack, he crammed a few days' worth of clothes in, as well as a knife, and handgun... which he had kept, despite himself.
Jess appeared, looking around the door quizzically. "Everything okay?"
Sam hid the gun under a t-shirt and turned to her. "Hey, yeah..." He smiled.
"You're... packing."
"Yeah. It's... you know that brother I mentioned?"
"Mhm..."
"Well, his birthday's in two days. I called him, and he's pretty close." He had a messed up childhood indeed if he considered Brownsville Texas "pretty close" to Palo Alto. He snorted. Could be New York. That was far.
"So, you're gonna visit the brother who hasn't called you in two years." She quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah. He's family, Jess. I just wanna catch up with him... see the family. That's it. Four days—five tops."
"But it's the weekend. What am I gonna do without you?"
Sam huffed, leaving his pack and hugging her. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, Sam. Hurry back." She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him.
Yup. He'd miss her.
But right now, he missed his brother.
He hadn't told Dean he was coming. Sam smiled. Hopefully, his brother would feel amenable to a visit, and wouldn't punch him in the snout. Sam laughed, despite himself.
***SPNSPNSPNSPN
Dean hung up the phone. He smiled as he flopped back into bed. Sure he was still mad at Sam... But he'd be darned if he didn't admit it had been good to hear from him. Little snot-nosed kid was all grown up and college-y.
Dean closed his eyes and fell asleep instantly.
***SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN
Brownsville, Texas, January 24th.
He hadn't heard from Sam again since the 22nd, but it'd been good to talk to him. Occasionally, his thoughts drifted back to the call, but for the moment, he tried to push those thoughts to the back of his mind.
Dean was in the library, pouring over a lore book. John was back at the motel, getting some shut eye. They'd been keeping odd hours, and last night—on a hunch—John had checked something out in the middle of the night. So Dean said he'd take over and Dad could rest.
"Happy birthday, Me." Dean mumbled. Not that he really celebrated his birthday... it just wasn't that much of a life event. More like a mile-marker on the highway... blurring past at a high rate of speed.
Then, something strange happened.
Like some scene out of a movie—as though years hadn't passed between them—Sam Winchester dropped into the library chair beside Dean's. "What're we after?" Backpack slung over one shoulder, smile just tugging the edges of his lips upward, Sam peered at the book in Dean's hands.
Dean's jaw dropped.
"Happy birthday, Dean." Sam's eyes glinted, and that smile he'd been trying so hard to hide slipped free.
Dean laughed. The sound was loud and sharp in the library, and it earned him a few glares, and a "shhhh", from an old lady, but he didn't care. He crushed Sam in a bear-hug—one made awkward by Sam's backpack.
Sam grinned at him.
"You drove all the way out here? Just to socialize?"
"Pretty much. Sue me."
Dean smiled. "Couldn't stay away, eh, Sammy?"
Sam huffed. "It's Sam."
"Uh-huh." There was quiet between them for a moment. "You're heading back though, aren't you?"
"Yeah. I uh..." Sam colored a bit, and his smile turned sheepish. "I got a girlfriend now."
"Oohooho!" Dean thumped Sam's shoulder with a fist. "I'm proud of you!"
Sam waved him away and rolled his eyes in mock exaggeration.
It really was as if no time had passed between them. Though it was temporary, Dean had to admit this was the best birthday he'd had in... Maybe ever, that he could remember.
A/N: Thank you for reading. Leave a review if it pleases you to do so! Hope you enjoyed! :)
