Author's Note: Before "The Last Time I Saw Sammy" got hijacked by djinn, I wrote an alternate reunion scene. This is how it played out as Dean landed randomly one night at a bar on the outskirts of Benton, Ill. The bar was called Bixby's.

As Dean sat at the bar, he felt hard edges beginning to soften – the constant tension that he'd felt for what seemed like an eternity fading to gray.

He caught the bartender's eye and ordered a beer. Then he sank down onto a bar stool and let his eyes drift closed for just a moment, basking in the memories of better days and better times - back before everything had gone to total hell.

Someone jostled him on the left. "Sorry man," A college kid said good naturedly, as he leaned back into his girl, and they faded jovially away into the crowd.

The music and the mood were elixirs to Dean's weary soul, and he lifted the bottle to his lips and looked around. It was dark just like every other bar he'd ever frequently, but as his eyes adjusted, he could still make out the main characters in the play.

There was a group of college kids taking over three tables in the middle of the room, laughing too loud and trying too hard to be noticed. And by the pool table, two grizzled third-shifters nursed mugs of draft and cued up over significant beer bellies. Dean noticed the usual cast of single ladies on the prowl and had to laugh and look away when three high-school-aged boys got turned back at the door.

"Ah, here's to virgin livers." Dean said quietly, tipping his beer at no one in particular and swallowing it down like the professional he was. He was on his second beer when the group at the corner table caught his eye, and suddenly he couldn't look away.

It was an older man with what was obviously his two grown sons. The boys had their backs to Dean, but they sat close and comfortable like only brothers would, and suddenly a sense of loss, deep like a canyon, broke over Dean. And he had to swallow hard to keep from sobbing out loud as the small family that could have once been his own broke into sudden loud laughter over something the taller boy said.

Dean watched the drama play out with his heart on his sleeve. The older boy shoulder-butted the younger one, almost knocking him out of the booth, and the father raised his beer and winked at his boys. Damn. Dean missed that sort of interaction so much. In another lifetime, it could have been Dean tormenting Sammy and the great John Winchester who saluted their antics.

Dean had never had the opportunity to drink a beer with his little brother though, like these boys seemed to take for granted. And maybe he never would. He wondered if they even realized how lucky they were to have each other.

When the family finally stood up to make its way over to the pool table, Dean ordered another beer and let his eyes drift closed. He caught the snippets of disjointed conversations as they swirled around him.

" … SUCH a bitch…"

"… said, so that's never going to happen."

"… did what?"

"…failed it, man, know I did …"

"Three over here."

Sudden cheers from the area of the dart board, and Dean smiled, eyes still closed, lost in his own memories.

"… hell, you know it …"

" …cute. Horny too …"

"… graduation, won't it?"

"Will never get over it. Never. What the hell was he …"

" … ammy Winchester. Ha! ha! The one and only …"

"… loser, lover … whatever …"

"… ucking lost it, man … so screwed …"

Words penetrated the fog in Dean's mind, causing a knot to form in his stomach. What had he just heard?

Dean sat up and looked around him, instantly sober, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

Winchester.

He'd heard the name Winchester.

His eyes searched the bar, falling inexplicably again on the family of three that was now taking turns at the dart board. The dad held a bottle in one hand and rested his other easily on the older boy's shoulder. The younger kid – the tall one – stood with his back to Dean, tossing darts that easily fell one on top of the other, square in the dead center of the target.

"Ohhhhhh!" The trio erupted as the younger boy finished his turn and took a major back thumping from his father. There was something awfully familiar about him, and Dean couldn't quite pin it down.

Then the boy turned toward Dean to snag his beer off the corner of the pool table, and he grinned and ducked his head. He was blushing from the attention, and for a brief moment in time, Dean couldn't catch his breath.

The older boy grabbed Sam's arm then and raised it triumphantly over his head, " … Deuce Winchester, everyone! Undefeated dart champion and total ladies' man! And the crowd goes CRAZY! Ahhhh!"

Dean watched as Sam shook his head and pushed the older boy away affectionately. Then Sam caught the bartender's eye and held up three fingers like he'd been ordering beers for three for years.

Dean was fascinated, staring at the scene as it played out before him – the beers arriving -Sam reaching into his pocket and peeling six bills off the top and laying them on the tray – the smile at the waitress as he grabbed the three bottles – the handing off of the bottles to the other boy and the dad – the flash of pride in the older man's eyes as he accepted the beer – and the playful ruffling of Sam's hair by the older boy.

Dean felt himself slide down from the barstool in a surreal sort of way, trembling legs propelling him forward in a shaky gate. He navigated the space between them without seeing any of it, tunnel vision stopping at the edge of the pool table where Sam leaned with his back facing the room.

"Sammy …"Dean's voice, sounding cracked and broken.

Sam turning around then, recognizing the voice even before his mind verified it, eyes landing on Dean and freezing - going wide. His beer sliding silently from his hand, crashing to the floor and splashing up to stain both their jeans.

Then Dean pushing forward and hanging onto his brother like he could never let go again, his voice sobbing, words breaking. "Sammy, I've looked so long I've looked for you everywhere on every corner in every damned diner oh God Sammy I'm so sorry."

Sam huddling, shocked and silent, on Dean's shoulder.

"I tried to call, Sam. I've been calling and calling but the damned phone is gone and I searched for you all over Kankakee and I listen to that damn park bench bender message every night and every night I hate myself all over again." Dean pulled back and looked his brother in the eyes, "It wasn't me, Sammy I swear it wasn't." He pulled him close again, "It wasn't me I'm so sorry."

Sam couldn't talk. All he could do was hold on, eyes shut tight, too choked up to even try to find words to say.

"You must be Dean," A soft voice broke through the torrential flow of emotions spewing forth in a dark corner of the dark barroom.

Dean's eyes opened and he found the eyes of the older boy staring at him gently, a smile on his face. He knew he should break the embrace and acknowledge the other boy, but he just nodded brokenly and pulled Sam closer, burying his face in his brother's shoulder and sobbing shamelessly. "I got you, Sammy. I swear to God, I got you now. I'm never gonna lose you again."

"Dean," Sam finally spoke into his brother's coat, throat working hard to make the right noises.

"Dean, I never thought I'd ever ..." He said gruffly, voice choked with unshed tears. "I wanted to see you … to … to say I was sorry. To hear your voice just one more time. Dean, I didn't think you …" He stopped, too overcome to speak.

"All this time, I've been looking, Sam. I swear. As soon as I could, I started looking. You just disappeared. No one knew anything. I didn't know if you were in another town or at the bottom of a damned river. I was ready to give up hope. Didn't think I'd ever see this moment. Never hear you call me a jerk again. Never drink that beer with my little brother. But you're all grown up, now. And I missed it." Dean's voice broke all over again. "I missed a whole lifetime, Sam."

Sam swallowed, "It was a year, Dean. Just a year. And you're back now …" Sam had to stop at that, his emotions welling up and out. He buried his face in the familiar leather jacket. "You're back now, Dean. I missed you so much."

Sam, suddenly pulling back, and grinning through tears, 'I'm buying you a beer, big brother." He said. "But first you gotta meet some people. He swiped a sleeve across his tear-streaked face.

Dean didn't want to meet Sam's surrogate family – the ones who had obviously taken him in and cared for him when Dean wouldn't. What must they think of him? Dean was sure they hated him for hurting the boy … the man … they obviously thought of as one of their own.

"Dean, this is Ron." Sam said, presenting the oldest member of the group. "Ron, this is my big brother, Dean."

Dean looked up into friendly eyes that shone a little too brightly. "Dean," the older man nodded. "It's an honor to finally meet you, son." He held out his hand.

Dean blankly shook Ron's hand and nodded and let himself be steered toward the older boy. "Dean,this is Danny. Danny – Dean."

Danny smiled. "Hello Dean. I've heard so much about you. It's good to finally put a face to the name." Another hand shake.

Dean searched the boy's face for an insult, but he looked nothing but genuine. Somehow, this family knew who he was and they managed not to hate him anyway. And Dean had no idea how that could be.