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Dean knew that Sam's freakish brain would one day get him into trouble, so when he heard about his brother's little planned adventure on Pandora, he wasn't surprised.
He just requested a transfer.
...
Dean remembered working with Jake Sully back on earth, and he never struck the marine as an insane traitor. Far from it, actually. The guy wore his heart too close to his sleeve- so close it was obvious to any he met that he possessed one.
He crept to the research lab after the general's big pep talk, casually informing the guard he out ranked him and he therefore should get an early lunch. Opening the door he dodged around a well aimed blow to the head, rolling to the floor and straightening with one hand holding his gun and the other raised in a placating manner.
"Easy Sammy," he grinned at his behemoth of a brother. "I'm not here to fight you."
Sam's eyes darted between the gun and his colleagues hidden behind the nearby desks. "Why are you here then?"
Dean slowly got to his feet, very carefully leaving his gun on the floor. It eased the other scientists, but both he and Sam knew it wouldn't delay his shot by more than a moment. "I've decided to give you the benefit of the doubt, long enough for you to explain your side in all this to me."
Dean tried to convey sincerity with his eyes, tried to dig up the remnants of the too trusting gangly teenager he once had been who believed in ghosts and monsters and who Sam believed in.
His brother's grip on the makeshift club loosened. He smiled hesitantly. "Ok."
Dean cursed the chain of command not for the last time that day. He had been 'volunteered' to accompany the 'package' which would blow the blue giants sky high. His fingers rattled against the hull of his robotic avatar, The Impala, as he came to a decision.
His eyes remained hard as he and the rest of the ground squad landed amongst the trees. Immediately the other metal vehicles crumpled to their knees from Dean having crossed the wiring in their joints.
He ducked for cover before the rest of the squad noticed anything wrong, and tried to find a good vantage point to shoot. He may not be willing to kill his friends, despite how idiotic they were being, but a well placed bullet can jam almost any piece of machinery no matter how arrow proof it was.
The battle- slaughter, he quietly corrected himself- raged. The Impala lay abandoned at the foot of a tree, after the other soldier's wised up to Dean's tactics. The marine- though he'll probably be court marshaled after this - sat high in one of the trees curled around a gun and a shot to the shoulder.
He remembered sitting in a similar position over twenty years ago, only instead of dodging marine fire he was standing watch while his father fought off imaginary monsters.
He was naive then to believe in his father's psychosis, but the world had a way of shattering any belief not based on reality. There were no supernatural creatures hiding in the dark, only messed up people. There was no god, no larger power to save you if you begged, no justice but the kind you made.
He made the right decision to join the marines when his brother left for school. He liked to think that his father did find his mother's killer, but as they never found John Winchester's body he supposed he would never know.
Distantly he heard bullets firing and screams. The oily smoke of flame throwers seeped through his mask into his nose carrying with it the burning forest. Dean gagged.
"Guess this is it," he sighed. The way things were looking he would die in a forest fire, and on the off chance he survived and they found him he would most likely be shot without a trial.
The world began to rumble.
"What the hell?" the soldier craned his neck towards the battle, trying to see what was going on. Below a herd of those feathered rhinos raged through the undergrowth, the twisted remains of machinery caught between their toes.
Dean couldn't help it, he laughed.
...
"So you're staying." Dean sat in the infirmary, a swathe of bandages covering most of his shoulder.
"Dude, you're going to have a gnarly scar there," Sam smirked, deliberately avoiding the statement.
Dean rolled his eyes, the avoidance just as much confirmation as an answer. "Have you picked out a place for us to stay yet?"
Sam frowned. "Dean-"
"Because we both know you wouldn't survive a week without me here to look after you," Dean continued paying his brother's attempts to speak no mind.
Sam gave up and leaned back into his seat, a quiet smile curling the corners of his mouth.
...
Epilogue
Much later, after the ships blasted off the surface of Pandora to return to Earth with the celebration in full swing, Dean fiddled with his oxygen mask as he sat on a glowing bit of what might have been moss.
Sammy would know the technical "sciencey" name for it, but he was busy chatting with a group of blue skinned giants two trees over. Despite his brother's 'make over' Dean could recognize his brother's shaggy head, shoulders still towering over the already abnormally tall aliens.
"Well they're not really aliens here, I am," he mentally corrected himself.
Sliding to his feet, Dean contemplated going to the refreshment... tree stump... screw it he needed a drink. One NOT made from weird fruit.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled. He snapped his head to the left and saw one of the People watching him curiously.
Dean flashed his teeth challengingly, "See something you like?"
The figure's catlike ears flicked, but its face remained impassive. "I did not mean offense, my clan has seen little of the sky people."
"You can speak pretty well for never meeting a human before."
Something too small to be considered a smile tugged at the figure's mouth. "I took time to learn."
Dean smirked and he stuck out his uninjured arm. "I'm Dean. I used to be a marine at the base."
The blue creature regarded Dean's limb curiously, before gently grasping it in his four fingered hand. "I am Cas'tell, messenger of Aowa."
"So Cas," Dean grinned, "What have the People got to drink around here?"
...