Notes: I would like to warn that this story is currently on-going on my ao3 account (search randomfills if you want to read in that format/read the series thus far). I am cross-posting this here incase anyone likes it better here. Also I'd like to point out that this will eventually be Dean/Michael but it is not a prominent thing in the series. It is more focused on their connection. If you are here for Sam, this story will have a lot of Sam. It is just more heavily focused on Dean and his connection/relationship with Michael. That's all for now.

Title: chosen

Synopsis: Canon divergent. Sam isn't the only chosen one…(in which Dean might be more special).

Part One

Sam Winchester had been away from the 'family business' for years now. Almost four years to be exact. So the night Dean, his estranged older brother, came knocking at his apartment, just hours after Jess left to sleep in their bedroom, to say that Sam was surprised was an understatement. Staring at his brother, the one whose number he dumped in the trash that one time he had been in a drunken stupor, had Sam thinking that maybe he was hallucinating. He took a step back, rubbing his eyes just in case. But nope, his brother was in fact still there. He hadn't made a single movement, even drenched to the bone from the unrelenting rain.

Dean Winchester stood in front of him, taking in his shock with a grin, "Heya, Sammy." His hands were deep in the pockets of their dad's old leather jacket that he passed down to the eldest Winchester brother. He wore jeans that probably saw better days and dark work-boots. "You just gonna stand there or are you going to at least invite your older brother in? 'Cos I don't know 'bout you, but I'm getting awfully sick of standing in the rain."

Sam had no idea how to respond. He was still trying to process that Dean was even here. Wordlessly, he took another step back so that Dean had room to step in. Once they were both comfortably inside, Sam slammed the door closed and watched Dean look around the dimly lit room, taking in the modern furniture Jess picked out for them last year. He let out a low whistle of appreciation. "This your place, huh?" he asked after a moment, breaking the lingering silence. He turned to give Sam another once over, the grin never leaving his face.

"Uh, yeah," Sam mumbled. He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "What are you even doing here, Dean? And how do you know where I live?"

Dean's grin fell for a moment at the accusatory tone in his voice, but then it was back in place, as he walked over to the couch and said, "Uh, well, it's a bit of a long story. Mind if I sit here?" He didn't wait for Sam to respond though as he plopped his ass on the cushion, and leaned back.

"No, go right ahead. Make yourself at home," Sam said sarcastically. He went to the kitchen to grab them both some beer. Knowing his brother, whatever he was about to tell him was probably going to be something he wasn't going to like. Even approaching midnight, Sam really couldn't fathom going to bed. Not now.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said once he returned and handed his brother a beer.

"It's Sam," he said, falling back on old times as he sat next to Dean and took a quick sip of his beer.

Dean smirked but didn't comment on his correction. He drank half the bottle as Sam glanced over at him. Up this close, even drenched from the rain, Dean hadn't changed much. He still had that air of danger about him that came from taking part in the hunting lifestyle. Their father, John Winchester, had that same sense of danger, of being almost unapproachable and intimidating to normal people. If Sam had seen Dean walking down the street and didn't know him, he would have steered clear of his brother. But he did know him and deep down he knew part of Dean's charm and dangerous aura was a facade.

It was surprising to Sam that even years apart, they could still return to this comfortable, easy silence. Sam remembered all those nights cooped up in motel rooms with just his brother for company as their father went out on hunts. It never really occurred to him until now that being alone with Dean had never once made him feel lonely or scared. Sitting so close to his brother again brought back that sense of being protected, like nothing could ever hurt him so long as he was with Dean.

"So, uh, guess I should probably tell you why I'm here," Dean said finally, startling Sam out of his thoughts.

Sam took another sip from his beer, "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good."

"Look, there's really no easy way to say this so I'm just gonna say it." Sam raised an eyebrow as he watched his brother fiddle with the zipper of his jacket. Dean was rarely nervous so this obviously couldn't be anything good. He set the beer bottle down on the table in front of them, waiting to hear what his brother had to say. Dean sighed and drained the rest of his beer. He set his own bottle on the floor under the table and turned to look seriously at Sam. "Sammy, you and your girlfriend, Jess...you guys are in danger."