A/N: This is AU. Mary's still dead, John's still..well, John, Sam still went to Stanford. But there is no supernatural, nothing to hunt. After Sam left, Dean joined the Marines and lost all contact with his little brother.


When it's all said and done

And you're a little worse for wear

And it hurts, having someone take care of you.

I'll never let you go, never let you go

Even when the madness is tearing you apart.

X Ambassadors, "Brother"


It was two words that spurned a revolution.
"I'm leaving."
Two words said with a jaw set in rebellion, eyes that were misty behind a shade of solid will.
Two words said with a slam of a door and then footsteps echoing down a street.
The last two words Dean heard from his little brother.
It was 4 years ago that Sam took everything he owned and hitchiked to California.
Full ride to Stanford...Dean shook his head. Only Sam.
The stage was set high, but he could still see a mop of dark hair attached to a ridiculously lanky body that could only be his brother. He was standing with a pretty girl with blonde hair, laughing. Damn, the kid must have grown a good five inches.


The ceremony was long. Sam graduated magna cum laude.
(of course he did).


Dean wasn't the only one in uniform. Two men, one a Colonel, the other an Airman, waylaid him in the reception. Any other time, sure. But now, Dean really just wanted to see his brother. There was a group of kids, still in cap and gown, huddled around the cake table. Dean could make out a distinctive laugh between the rest.

Sam saw him before he could say a word. Didn't recognize Dean at first. (Dean had changed too. Less hair, more height, more muscle.) Sam did a double take. Dean watched,worrying the rim of his cover, as Sam's face went through about six different expressions.
Dean pushed through a couple, mumbling apologies, and met his brother halfway. "Sammy."
Sam's eyes were watering. He threw himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean's shoulders.
"D.."
Sam was taller than him. A lot taller.


They musta hugged for a solid five minutes. When they finally separated, Dean was wiping his eyes.
"You're an asshole. " Sam informed him, smiling with watering eyes and a red nose.
"Yeah, I know."


Sam's apartment was tiny. A living room with a couch and mismatched ottoman. A kitchen that barely fit a four person table. One bathroom. One bedroom. There was a picture- Dean was probably 18, Sam 14. They were sitting on bleachers at one of the nine high schools they attended, grinning from ear to ear. It was old, torn, in a picture frame on the dresser.
"It's small." Sam had discarded the gown. He was wearing jeans underneath. (Typical.)
He stood in the doorway, watching Dean pick up and study the frame. " But it's mine. Well, mine and Jess's." The blonde. She and Sam had been dating nearly four years, Sam was saving up money for a ring. She was with her parents and would be coming back later.
Dean couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face.
"You did good, Sammy."


They were sitting on the couch. Some baseball game was on. It was kinda dark out, but neither had moved to turn on the lights. Dean had long since discarded his dress uniform.
"Marines, huh?" Sam sipped a beer.
"Yeah." Dean gave a mirthless laugh. "You left. Dad...Dad went crazy. Drank way too much. One night he came home, we got in a fight. He hit me hard." Dean motioned to the scar on his jawline. "Dad broke my jaw."
Sam was watching him with a mixture of defiance and revulsion.
"It was wired shut for, like, six weeks. I skipped out on Dad, took the car. I just started driving, ended up in this tiny town. Got a job bartending. I started talking to this regular, a marine recruiter. Told me I'd a get $10,000 bonus for signing on. And boot camp started in 3 months. So I did."
"And Dad?"
Dean shrugged. " Haven't talked to him since. Did tours in Kandahar, Iraq, Syria. I got transferred here after I got back last week.
Sam's face split into a wide grin.
"Here? You got transferred to Palo Alto?"
Dean smiled. That reaction was exactly what he'd been waiting for.
"I'm here for two years minimum."