Twenty One

"So what do you think?" Jess asked.

Sam didn't answer straight away, still trying to process the exuberant chaos surrounding him.

When he had walked into his college dorm room that night he had expected to study, maybe watch a little TV and then go to sleep. Instead he had been greeted by a loud chorus of "Surprise!" as people jumped out from every corner of the room and exploded party poppers in his face. His first thought was that he was being attacked and he almost went into defensive manoeuvres before he belatedly registered the balloons, streamers, brightly wrapped gifts and huge spread of food and drink. It took him a few more moments to realize that all his friends were there and even longer to make the connection between the date – May 2nd – and the party he felt sure he had wandered into by mistake.

It finally clicked, though. Jess had thrown him a surprise party for his 21st birthday.

"Still speechless?" Jess giggled, nudging him in the side. "Reminds me of the first time we met."

Sam shook himself out of his stunned stupor and smiled down at the beautiful girl he still couldn't quite believe had agreed to go out with him. "Yeah, you seem to have that effect on me. This is amazing, Jess. You're amazing."

Jess beamed at him. "I know."

He bent to kiss her forehead. "Thank you. I've never actually had a birthday party before so this is… well, it means a lot to me."

She backed up a step. "Wait – never?"

Sam shrugged. "We moved around a lot when I was a kid. It's no big deal."

"Well turning 21 is a big deal. I can't believe no one in your family came to wish you a happy birthday. Did they even call? Send a card? Anything?"

"They're probably busy." The expression on Jessica's face made Sam wish that the topic of family had never come up. This is why he didn't like to talk about them. "Look, it doesn't matter, really. I'm fine with it."

Jess must have been able to sense that he wanted to drop it, because she swept away the gloom and said cheerfully, "Well, then, it is a good thing you have me. I'll make sure this is a night you will never forget."

Sam smirked. "Is that a promise?"

Jess swatted his arm and Sam laughed, swooping in to kiss her.

"Hey dude!" Someone clapped Sam heartily on the back, knocking him forward. What should have been a trademark Sam Winchester kiss turned into an awkward clash of teeth and bumped noses and when Sam pulled away he was blushing furiously.

"Happy birthday!"

Sam pulled his trademark 'bitch face' and Jess laughed at him. "Better luck next time, Sam. Go on, make nice." She spun him around and he quickly changed his expression to something friendlier.

"Hey Rick. Thanks man, it was cool of you to come."

"I wouldn't miss it Sam my man. Sorry I'm late, I had to stop some dude trying to gate crash."

"Really?"

"Yeah, dude was asking loads of questions 'bout you, wanted me to let him into the building without a student pass. Wouldn't even tell me his name. He did give me this to pass onto ya though." Rick held out a package that had been poorly wrapped in an old newspaper. "Dunno how safe it is, man. It could explode or something."

Sam huffed a laugh. "I'm pre-law, not a presidential candidate. I'm sure it's nothing." Even so, he opened the wrapping gingerly.

When he saw what was inside he froze in shock.

"Sam? Honey, what is it?"

Rick leaned in. "It's a bottle of cheap beer. Well, that's a bit of a letdown. I was hoping it was at least a gag gift or something."

"Sam, are you okay?" Jess persisted. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"It's a bottle of Iron Gut, not Casper," Rick contributed helpfully. "It could be roofied I suppose…"

"Who gave this to you?" Sam asked suddenly.

"Like I said, he wouldn't tell me his name-"

"But what did he look like?"

"I dunno-"

"Come on, man, think!"

"Uh, he was wearing a leather jacket, biker boots, some weirdo necklace…"

"How long ago?"

"What-"

"How long ago did you see him?"

"Like, 5 min- hey, where are you going?"

But Sam had already burst out of the form and was sprinting down the hall, ignoring the voices that called after him. He flung the door open with too much force and it slammed against the wall but he ignored that too.

"Dean! Dean!"

There was no sign of him but Sam knew he had been there.

"Dean!"

No reply, only crickets and the steady beat of music coming from his dorm. But when he strained his ears Sam could hear the roar of a familiar engine fading into the distance.

Dean was gone.

Sam blew out a hard sigh and sank down onto the top step. Five minutes. He had not seen or spoken to Dean in more than nine months and he had missed him by five damn minutes.

Sam's gaze dropped to the bottle he still had clutched in his hand. Iron Gut Kelly's Original brew. It was an obscure brand that was brewed and sold only in Eustace, Texas. Nothing spectacular, but it meant something to Sam because it was the first beer he had ever tasted, and Dean was the one who had smuggled it to him.

He'd had alcohol before then, of course – whiskey was Dad's prescribed pain killer for any injuries sustained on a hunt – but the beer had been to commemorate Sam's SAT scores; congratulations for a job well done when all Dad had said was 'All that time wasted on studying when you could have been doing research for a hunt'. It was Dean's way of saying he was proud of Sam, and not for his ability to shoot or for his first monster kill, but for something normal that would make any normal family proud.

This bottle wasn't just a cheap option for a 21st birthday present. It was a message. It was Dean telling him that he was still proud of his nerdy little brother, even if he never had the chance to say so when Dad was busy kicking Sam out because he had been accepted into Stanford.

Sam felt conflicted. He was touched that Dean had remembered his birthday, angry that Dean had been too much of a coward to stick around, upset that Dean seemed to think his brother wouldn't want to see him, but also absurdly grateful that Dean was keeping his distance. He was letting Sam have a clean break from his family, but he had sent this bottle to remind him that he was still loved.

Sam pulled out his phone and scrolled to his brother's name in the contacts list. He hovered over the call button but ultimately changed his mind and typed out a quick text instead.

All it said was Thanks.

But what it meant was I miss you, too.

Sam drew in a breath, composing himself.

Then he re-joined the party, feeling a little lighter than before.