ok, I got this idea from reading other stories from authors where Sam is the older brother... so... let's see how this goes..
I own nothing :"(
Sam Winchester was loving life right at the moment. The perfect girl, decent apartment, and what looked like a sturdy life in the subject of law.
He loved this life, but deep down, knew there was something missing. Or someone. Yes, he was missing someone from the life he left behind three years ago, almost four. His little brother, Dean. He shoved his textbook away from him, feeling too distracted, too guilty, to study. He always regretted leaving his barely fifteen year old brother alone with a stubborn-assed father in the world they grew up in. Hell, what Dean was still growing up in. He knew he should've dragged Dean along with him. Sam had always regretted that one look in his little brother's eyes on the night he left.
It hadn't been a good night to begin with. Looking like it was ready to storm. Sam had sighed heavily, turning away from looking out the motel's window, to the exception letter to Stanford laying in his lap. How was he going to tell this to their dad, more importantly, Dean. He sighed again, now looking to the teenager that had just come out of the bathroom. He hadn't gotten as tall as him yet, but he was getting there, he still had some more growing left to do. Dean looked up at his older brother, and when Sam caught his eyes, his breath caught in his throat. Slowly, Dean walked over to him, holding out his hand, an envelope held tightly in it. He wasn't looking at Sam anymore, just staring at the floor. The eighteen year old looked slightly nervous, still just staring at his brother.
" Dean?" he asked hesitantly. Dean looked up at him for a split second, before looking back at the floor. He shuffled his feet a little, the smallest of blushes staring to form in his cheeks. He looked back up at his brother, before finally making eye contact, and finding his voice as well.
" Open it, Sam. Its for you," he made a gesture with his chin, pointing it at the still outstretched hand, the one still holding an envelope. Sam finally got the courage to take it, and almost started tearing up at the shaky scrawl on the front of the envelope. Sammy. It said. Sam took a few deep breaths before carefully tearing open the envelope. Then he finally allowed one or two tears to fall.
For there, inside of the envelope, was a card. Albeit it wasn't fancy, probably was picked up at some rundown gas station or something, but it was what kind of card it was that made the tears finally come out to the world. The front of it was a light blue, almost white, with a few balloons on it, each going in different directions. He opened it up, and there was one word that made the eighteen year old lose his breath again. Congratulations, is what the card had said, nothing more. However there was more written there, by the same scrawl on the front of the envelope. He started to read it.
like the card says, congratulations, Sammy. I always knew it would happen. Go put that freaky brain of yours to action other than finding research to kill shit. I'm proud of you.
Dean.
Sam was openly letting some tears fall now. He looked back up at his little brother, who was still standing in front of him, shuffling his feet rather awkwardly, as if he didn't know whether to sit, or stay, or just walk away. He was still making eye contact though, and for that Sam was surprised. He cleared his throat a little.
" How did you know? " Sam pleaded the answer in his head wasn't the same answer his brother was about to say. He really hoped it wasn't.
"Because I answered your phone one day, while you were in the bathroom," he started, voice quiet, but full of emotion. Sam shut his eyes, he felt terrible, his brother had found out on his own, he didn't even have to tell him, and for some reason, that made him feel guilty.
"Sam?" Sam was jolted out of his trance like state to see Jess, standing in the doorway.
"Yeah? What's wrong?" and he could tell something was, her stance was off, like she was nervous or something.
" There's a guy here, asking to see you, I didn't know if you wanted me to let him in, said it was kinda important," Sam was surprised, he wasn't expecting anyone. In the back of his mind he had a small (huge), hope that it was his brother, but knew it wasn't likely. He had tried calling numerous times, for both Dean and his father's phones and both of them were disconnected. He tried Bobby, but he didn't know anything, simply stating that he and John had a fight a few months back, and he hasn't heard from them since. Sam had asked him what the fight was about, but all Bobby did was say it wasn't his place to say, and had hung up.
"Alright, I'll see what he wants," and with that he walked out of the bedroom, and all the way to the door before casting a small reassuring smile to his girlfriend, and walked out the door, and quietly shut it. He looked at the door handle for a moment, before turning to face his visitor.
He was around six to six two, dark blonde, almost brown hair, and had on a leather jacket that for some reason, looks vaguely familiar to Sam. He could see the tenseness of the stranger's shoulders, and saw how fit and muscular this guy really was. Despite being shorter, he would have Sam down in an instant.
"Can I help you?" the now twenty-two year old asked. He was still staring at the man, trying to get a good look at his face...
"I sure as hell hope so, 'cause I don't know what else to do," the voice was gravelly, rough, but somehow Sam could hear the familiar innocence it once had, and immediately wanted to hug this Stranger, but nervous his guesses would be all wrong.
The man finally looked up, and for some reason, Sam's eyes couldn't help but to widen slightly.
"Dean,"