Title: All your worldly desires...
Author: Vesper (Regina)
Warnings: violence
Category: Drama, AU
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Summary: This is not his brother. 382 words.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Archival: If you wish to archive, please link to my website. Please keep all my headers intact.
Note: I have no idea what this was supposed to be. It came from a prompt my sister gave me, but I've long forgotten what that is.

This is not his brother. This man with his gold wire-rimmed glasses and sun-lightened hair. Oh, he has Dean's smile and his charm. He's walked away from no less than seven girls, numbers on slips of paper. Oh, yes, he walks and talks like Dean, but there are no shadows in his eyes.

This is not his brother. Yet, Sam stares at a piece of paper that says he is. Dean Winchester, born 1-24-79, to Mary Campbell Winchester and John Eric Winchester.

And he, he was never born.

Sam sits on a wire bench that is hot enough to burn and watches the man that is not his brother, and yet is. Then, he leaves. This won't do a bit of good. He's stuck here, and a man who doesn't know anything about hunting, about guns and knives, is useless.

He never thinks to see if Dean has noticed him, or is following. Didn't think that he would. He was wrong.

He's pulled into an alley, and slammed against a wall, not hard, but with just enough force to really get his attention.

"Why are you following me?"

Sam holds his hands up, pacifying. "I just thought you were someone else, man. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"Is that so? Stay away from me, or you'll regret it."

"I doubt that."

"Try me," Dean says and holds out a hand and Sam's head cracks back against the bricks. He sees stars, and his peripheral vision goes black.

The force holding him back against the wall lets up and Sam loses his footing, sliding down. He looks up. Dean is over him.

"Leave me alone."

Dean starts to walk away. Sam pushes himself up, shouts, "I know the path you're on, Dean. I know what you'll become."

Dean turns and gives him an undecipherable look. "You think I don't know? Think I don't know about the little deal my mother made, about this curse? You think I don't know who you are, that you're lost? This little world was made to hold you and me. We're just pawns."

Sam can feel blood sliding down his neck, warm and slow. He tries to move forward, but Dean just holds a hand up.

"Make a wish, Sam. Maybe you'll get what you want."