To say that Dean was pissed when Sam took off for Stanford would have been a serious understatement. It wasn't so much the whole going away to university thing in itself, that Dean couldn't begrudge his little brother, it was the way he did it. He didn't ask Dean to come with him, he didn't even say goodbye. Dean got home one night from a supply run to find their father flat-out drunk on the couch, grumbling something about Sam being "gone". By the time he sobered up enough for Dean to get the full story out of him, it was too late to go after his prodigal little brother. He tried calling of course, but Sam never answered. The overgrown bastard seemed to be determined to completely cut ties with his family.

Whatever, the reason for Sam's ghosting, Dean wasn't about to take it lying down. He knew where Sam was headed, and he was going after him. Eventually. The fall semester didn't actually start for another couple months, so he had time.

Some people, including Sam, were under the misconception that Dean had left high school early because he dropped out. The truth was he had graduated early after skipping a grade in middle school. He'd never seen the need to talk about it, really, he was just glad that graduating meant more time for hunting, but now, for the first time, his unexpectedly impressive academic record might actually be relevant.

It's the first week of classes and Sam walks down the halls of one of Stanford's many stately buildings, basking in the pureness of academia. He's just come out of the last lecture of his first day and he's riding high in anticipation of the year to come. Maybe when he gets home, he'll give Dean a call and tell him about it. Sam feels bad about the way he left things with his brother.

As he wades through the sea of students in their sedate sweaters, a glimpse of brown leather suddenly jumps out at him. He does a double take and finds himself looking at the back of his brother's head as he walks down the hall a few paces ahead of Sam.

He hurries forward and grabs Dean's shoulder, turning him around in the middle of the hallway. "Dean!?" he almost yells.

Dean looks at him with an enormous smile and a look of feigned surprise. "Sammy? I totally forgot you go here."

"What are you talking about? Are you here to see me?"

"No, silly. I go here."

"You go where?" Sam asks, more confused than ever.

"Stanford" Dean answers matter of factly.

"Dean, are you trying to tell me that you got into Stanford?"

"What? Like it's hard?"