A/N: I'd like to thank my abso-freaking-lutely awesome Beta Tutups for betaing this. Without her, it would have been full of crappy typos and englishisms (I'm a brit). I do like a bit of femsam too.

I'd just like to say I don't own any of the characters used except Jon Gallagher (a couple of music references for those avid music fans) All rights are STILL owned by Eric Kripke and the CW and WB.

Now with all the formalities over, read and hopefully enjoy :) Feel free to leave reviews.

Dean looked longingly at the empty bottle of cheap whiskey that stood on the coffee table in front of the TV which was constantly tuned into the 24 hour news reel. He wanted to forget, he wanted oblivion, and he needed to forget that day. He knew though that he'd never forget it, that he'd remember it always, the day his baby sister went to war, the day she destroyed herself with a single decision to prove she was a daddy's girl.

"Are you fucking kidding me Sam? A marine? Like Dad?" Dean yelled in shock, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd already lost his mother, their mother, when he was 4 years old. They'd said it was flu that had killed her, but even then he wasn't stupid, he knew she was too strong to be killed by it. Of course later in life (when he was in high school to be exact) he had looked at her records – hacker friends rule- and saw that it was actually cancer. With all that having happened growing up, he refused to lose his sister, the very kid he'd brought up while John Winchester was either drinking tequila or shooting at some Deer.

"I'm 22, a high school graduate and not a kid so I can do what I want Dean! This is what I want, I can protect lives. Just like Dad did, like Bobby and Caleb too. I have basic training soon anyway and it's the Armed Forces not the Marine Corps." Sam replied, almost pleading with her big brother to understand. Of course Dean struggled to understand her reasons, but he could see it was what she wanted and for him that was enough. He had been able to see that the mechanic's life wasn't for her, but he hadn't expected this.

"You taken the ASVAB test then?" Dean asked with a weary sigh.

"How the hell do you think I got onto BCT?" Sam rolled her eyes.

That had been 6 years ago, when Dean was 26. He was getting monthly letters from her now, letting him know she was alive and that the regiment was taking care of her. He wrote back instantly and went back to not sleeping and drinking, just waiting for news. He would weep for the families who were losing their loved ones with the war. He didn't even care where the war was, all he cared was that his sister would be safe. He still remembered every time she returned from a tour, she would train from 5:30 in the morning every day, just running. He knew her timings inside out, he just knew her. Dean missed Sam, everyone could see that, even Jim Beam had noticed. The last letter he'd received had been dated back two months ago; he knew something was wrong when he didn't get a reply from her. He just knew that his sister wasn't as safe as she usually was. He could still remember her final words on that letter.

Don't be worried brother, things are crazy now. No worrying and NO drinking, promise me or I'm telling Dad when I get home.

.He'd drank even more after that, those letters kept him sane, well in the remote region of sane. His phone rang yet again, just like it had been for at least 5 hours now. He'd ignored it every time; he had something like 100 missed calls, ridiculous really. He finally answered the phone when he got sick of the damn ringtone that Sammy had downloaded for him.

"What the fuck do you want Caleb?" Dean snapped. Caleb didn't take offence, he knew that if Dean was sober or even half sober and not at least ¾ out of his mind with worry and fear that he'd have been a little less sharp with him.

"Sober up kid, trouble's coming your way." Caleb told him. He's been military long enough to know when a family would be hit with the worst news that you'd ever have to hear about a loved one, especially when a nameless death was reported.

"What are you harping on about, Caleb?" Dean slurred.

"An army death; deceased woman from Lawrence. Sam's not replied. The battalion measures up. Do the math Winchester, you're not stupid." Caleb told him bluntly and harshly, it was just his way though.

"Screw you, you bastard." Dean snarled and hung up. He was even angrier. He didn't know he was the next of kin for his sister, he didn't know that Caleb was second preference. He didn't know that right now as he was drinking Sam's CO was heading over to his apartment; he didn't know that Caleb was coming with John and Bobby. He sure as hell didn't know what Caleb was on about; well, he didn't want to know. At that moment as he sat staring at the bottle on the coffee table there was a knock on the door, the sort that he'd got used to and meant there was a marine on the other side. He stumbled up and answered the door.

The sight before the scarred Lieutenant was incomprehensible to him; he'd seen photos of the man who was supposed to live here. That man was young, handsome and bore a pretty close resemblance to one of his own soldiers. The one who came to the door was a drunk, but surprisingly still standing considering the stench of alcohol coming off the guy. He had long hair, a beard, he wasn't what he had expected at all, but Jon wasn't there to pass judgment, he had a job to do; the worst job he had as a commanding officer.

Dean took in the soldier on the doorstep of his apartment and his brain started to wake up, started to work on sobering him up. He may have been drunk, but his brain knew he needed to be sober for this.

"Can I help you?" Dean asked, his voice slurring a little.

"Are you the next of kin of Private Samantha Winchester?" The stranger asked. Now if Dean had been sober, he'd have known what was coming next. Most families did, but a drunken Dean was an emotionless Dean.

"Huh?"

"Are you Private Samantha Winchester's brother?"

"oh, er… yeah. Who wants to know?" Dean asked cocking his head to one side.

"Lieutenant Jon Gallagher, your sister's Commanding Officer. I'm sorry, son, but there's bad news." The soldier replied.

"What, Sammy's dead?" Dean gasped finally understanding. He collapsed, whether it was from the grief or the shock or even just from the sheer amount of drink and who knows what else in his body, no-one knew. Luckily for both men the Winchester's answer to backup arrived, three former marines, all with varying levels of being a cranky SOB. John and Bobby carried Dean back into his apartment.

"I'm sorry about this Jon; he's been a mess since the beginning of his sister's last tour. I think he knew it was coming, really. The Dean Winchester we all used to know would have been able to cope had he had his little sister around; they were always that close." Caleb explained to Jon.

"I still remember when I got the message you were in the hospital Kay, he can't be taking it easy. I joined up after you got injured, must have been what twenty years ago? It was your first tour…"

"And my last. Can't exactly serve with a false leg can I? And don't call me 'Kay'… Operation Desert Storm, I'll never forget that one." Caleb finished. In the light there was an obvious resemblance between him and Jon. There was a reason for that, Caleb was Jon's brother, but they were different.

"Still don't like your girly name then?" Jon chuckled.

"At least I wasn't named after Nanna Joanna!" Caleb retorted as only a brother could.

"Dean!" Came a shout from inside and Caleb knew what the tone meant and sure enough when they entered the squalor that Dean was living in, he was convulsing.

"Not again you damn idiot! Drink and whatever those pills are, shouldn't be mixed you know that!" Caleb groaned as he helped them clear a space for Dean. When the thirty-something year old woke up he'd remember everything and be almost sober. It was always how it happened, the first time it had happened Sam had been there. For about 4 hours she'd yelled at Dean; calling him an idiot and every other thing varying on the fact he was a stupid man who wasn't using what little brain cells he had rattling around in his head.

Dean woke up confused and hallucinating. The hallucinations were new to both him and the others.

"Sammy? What you doing back?" Dean asked the illusion in front of him; he couldn't understand why she wasn't at war, or why she was… rippling. As quickly as she appeared, she left and Dean sat blinking.

"Caleb why are there so many soldiers in my apartment? And where the hell are my pills?" Dean asked confused, it was a similar story every time he had one of his episodes brought about by the mixing of his pills and the alcohol. Caleb picked up the bottle of pills and shook his head.

"What the hell are these?" Caleb demanded.

"Effective." Dean groaned reaching for them, but Caleb pulled the out of his reach and Dean's expression turned petulant. If the situation wasn't so serious it would have been funny.

"If Sam was here she'd be disappointed." Bobby said sternly. He was like a second father to the Winchester kids.

"I know." Dean nodded, it didn't mean he had to like it though.

"She'd have kicked his ass, like I'm thinking of doing. You promised me you'd stopped this stupid shit the last time I saw you like this. Fuck Dean! You have a damn funeral to organize; we need you sober and clean. Hell, I need you sober and clean." Caleb said his voice softening as he spoke to Dean. It wasn't the sort of voice you'd use with anyone other than a lover. It was the only thing that ever got through to Dean when he got like this. Dean worried about Sam and Caleb worried about Dean. He knelt down in front and placed his hands on Dean's knees and looked up at him, his eyes soft.

"Dean, Sam knew the risks, just like I did. So does every single recruit into the Marine Corps, the Armed Forces, the Navy and the Air Force. It's not something anyone takes lightly; we make the decision with the knowledge of all possible outcomes. It's why I planned my funeral the day I joined up; just in case. I know Sam would have done the same." He explained, now no-one but the two of them had known about the relationship, but it was obvious to everyone else in the room. It was obvious, but no-one said anything, they were from the era of the 'Don't ask, Don't Tell' policy. Even John hadn't dared ask when he saw how close Dean was to a few of the guys he brought home, claiming they were just friends. Of course the ex-marine had known his son was gay, but he hadn't asked for confirmation.

"She left an envelope to be given to her brother in the event of her death." Jon said handing Dean an official sealed envelope. Dean took it staring at it sadly.

"She always liked to be organized. What am I going to do without her, Caleb?" He cried; finally sober enough to know that his sister was gone. His voice was broken, were it not for the tears, he would have sounded hollow.

"Sober up, stop smoking funny things and taking whatever you're on. Live a life, like she would have wanted. You've got me Dean; she went the way every soldier wants to go; protecting life." Caleb answered softly, his voice almost like a lullaby to the pain that Dean felt. He knew now why he relied on Caleb. He was the calm in the middle of a storm.

"What happened? How did she…How did she die?" Dean swallowed hard holding onto the envelope with such strength and desperation that it was actually worse than him being completely drunk.

"She was caught up in an IED explosion, one of the unfortunate few who didn't survive." Jon sighed, he'd grown close to Sam, and she had reminded him so much of his brother.

Dean was shaking, whether it was grief, the threat of tears, withdrawal from his habits or maybe a combination of all three, he didn't know. All he knew was he was shaking as the military band played their song. It was the typical funeral of a soldier who died with honor, it didn't help Dean though. He was fighting tears, wanting a drink or a smoke, he missed oblivion, but he had some sort of clarity right now. He refused to lose that. He drowned out the sound of the tears of people who had known her; he drowned out the hymns, drowned out the sounds of the priest, just focused on keeping himself together as he sat next to Caleb who comforted him. He only looked up when he knew he was supposed to stand up for the folded flag to be handed to him. He could feel it, he was going to crumble again.

"I'm proud of you Dean." Caleb whispered rubbing small circles on Dean's back, knowing the action soothed him. He had ten years of life experience on Dean, he knew how to soothe someone and he knew how to keep them from doing something stupid.

"For what? Not collapsing like a little bitch?" Dean sighed, he was sick of all the support; he wanted to be left alone for a while.

"For handling today, for sorting your life out, you have amazing strength, Dean." Caleb told him. He never said the words, but with Caleb it wasn't what he said, it was what he didn't say. He said he was proud of Dean, but Dean knew what he really meant was that Dean was doing Sam a service, that he would have made her proud. Years down the line Dean would forget the funeral, but he'd always remember the day he received the news that Sam was gone and she was on her last journey home. Dean never touched a drop of alcohol after that day, not even when he got married, not when his family died either at war or of plain old age. His sister's death gave him the wake-up call he needed. He finally slept; the night after the funeral, before he'd drank until he'd passed out.