DISCLAIMER: All chapters of this work are a fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).
Dean Winchester is four and asleep in his bed. He wakes to his father dragging him out of bed and pushing his baby brother into his arms. Sam is only six months old. Dean feels his father's fear but he can't feel his mother.
Daddy … where ' s mommy?
John Winchester hears his son's small voice in his head but he cannot spare any time. He presses a kiss against his boy's forehead and yells, "Dean, take care of Sammy …. GO!"
Dean cringes as his father's fear blossoms into terror. He clutches Sam's small, squirming body to himself and goes down the stairs as quickly as he can, afraid he'll drop the baby if he goes any faster. He coughs at the smoke that begins to fill the air. Dean finally gets to the front door when he hears his father's voice bellow in pain. He nearly passes out from the wave of searing heat that tears through his mind but Dean was raised to do what his daddy said. His daddy told him to take care of Sammy and that, by God, is what he will do. Dean runs out of the house and down the dirt driveway toward the edge of their property. There's a big tree by the fence and Dean crouches down with Sam held close to him. He shivers in the bitter air, clad only in his pajama bottoms and Star Wars t-shirt.
Dean cries silently when he feels two sudden snaps against his mind, like rubber bands being popped. The sensation is followed by the worst emptiness he's ever known in his short life. He tries to hold onto the links that were once there – that once represented his mommy and daddy, but as he gets closer, the black tries to pull him into it. Dean falters. He's only four and not strong enough to resist the death pull of another mind.
As he begins to relax and fall, another link asserts itself. This one isn't strong either, but it's persistent and demanding. Sammy. Dean blinks and opens his eyes. His little brother is trembling in his arms and Dean remembers what his daddy said – the little mind tugs at his and Dean is able to pull away from the dark and let the silence take his parent's thoughts away. Sammy stops trembling and the link in his head fills with relief and love and trust. Sam's a baby so his thoughts aren't formed yet … they're just emotions and sensations but Dean's mind has been linked to Sammy's since he was still in their mommy's tummy. He understands.
I'm here, Sammy. I won't go anywhere.
They live on a remote road, so it takes a while for the firemen to come. The house is gone by then along with Dean's life and parents. One of them, named Bobby, bundles Dean in a warm blanket and carries both of them to the back of the waiting ambulance. He shoos the EMTs off for a moment while he calms the two.
Dean looks at his little brother and then at the adult with no small amount of fear. His emotion bleeds through to Sammy and the baby begins to cry again. Unfortunately, when he does, something else happens.
Bobby Singer sees many bad things in his line of work. Two boys orphaned in a single fire, sadly, are not the worst but nothing prepares him for what he witnesses. Sammy is crying and suddenly, every drawer in the back of the ambulance flies open. Syringes, bandages, and wraps all sail out and crash around the interior. Dean's eyes go wide with fear and he looks down at the infant and shakes his head desperately, a deep frown creasing his brow. The baby blinks and whimpers and the objects fall to the floor with a clatter. Bobby stares at the mess and then at the two boys.
Pleasedonttellwewonthurtanyonepleasedaddysaiddaddy toldmetotakecareofSammy — a child's voice babbles in his mind at a painful decibel.
Bobby winces and shakes his head. He puts a firm hand on the boy's shoulder and the voice falls silent. Bobby regards the boys closely for the first time — the older one has dark blond hair, hazel-green eyes and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose. The baby's eyes are wide and unfocused, the same color as his brother's. Bobby frowns and passes his hand in front of the infant's face. The eyes do not track the movement. He looks at the older boy.
"You're one of them, aren't you?" he asks softly.
The older boy's eyes fill with tears and terror. He looks around wildly to see if anyone else heard, but no one is in the vicinity. Bobby squeezes the small shoulder gently.
"What's your name, boy?"
The older boy's lip quivers. He opens his mouth, then closes it and shakes his head. Bobby frowns and then his eyes brighten in understanding.
"You're mute?" The boy nods. Bobby sighs. He taps his temple. "Tell me … but keep the volume down."
Dean.
Bobby nods. "Nice to meet you, Dean. Who's the little tempest?" At Dean's frown, he points to the baby.
Sammy.
Bobby looks down at the unseeing eyes. "He's blind?" Dean nods. "So … you're obviously a telepath. What's he? Telekinetic?"
Dean's eyes spill the tears that have been building.
Please don't tell.
Bobby sighs again and runs his hand over his face. "Damn it." He looks around and says, "Wait here … do not try me, boy."
Dean shivers and shakes his head, indicating that he won't. He watches the man walk away. He had kind eyes. Dean is scared. He doesn't know if they'll take him away from Sammy now or what will happen. All his life he's been told to hide what he can do and to help Sammy hide too. He sniffles and holds Sammy tightly. Dean's limit has been reached – he can only hope they won't separate him from his little brother. Bobby comes back.
"Looks like you're coming home with me, Dean," the fireman says.
Dean looks down at his little brother and then at the smoking rubble that once was his house. He bites his lower lip, debating. He gives in eventually — he doesn't have a choice.
Don't worry, Sammy. I'll take care of you … I promised Daddy.
Twenty-three Years Later
Wanted … dead or alive! Dead or alive!
"Dean! Would you sing to yourself? I'm trying to study! And turn the radio down! I'm blind, not deaf!" Sam yells out the back door. His brother's legs stick out from beneath his car, a '67 Impala.
Dean rolls out from under the car and reaches over to the little portable radio. He grins wickedly and turns the volume up — Bon Jovi blares so loud the speaker vibrates. It suddenly goes silent as the power switch turns off abruptly.
Hey! I was listening to that! Dean sends.
"Half the tri-county area was listening to that, you idjit," a voice grouses from behind him.
Dean looks over and sees Bobby Singer walking up, wiping his hands on a rag. Dean ducks his head. His sending always includes all of his family in close proximity unless he intends only one person to hear. Bobby and Ellen taught him it was rude otherwise.
Sorry, Bobby, Dean sends contritely.
"No you're not," Bobby replies, batting Dean on the head with his rag. "Get cleaned up … yer aunt's gonna be home to start dinner soon."
Dean grins and stands. As he walks through the kitchen he sees his not-so-little brother sitting cross-legged on the floor, making notes on his laptop from a book far thicker than anything Dean has ever read. Sam can read Braille but he's not limited to it. His sense of touch is so refined he can actually pick up the infinitesimal layer of print in almost any book. His fingers slide over the book and the keys of the laptop click away seemingly of their own accord.
Dean shakes his head but he's secretly very proud of his little brother. He definitely got the smarts. Dean's just happy to be able to fix cars and help out at the shop and salvage yard that his uncle Bobby owns.
School was easy for Dean. Whatever he didn't understand, he could just 'download' from the teacher's mind until he got it. Sam calls it cheating, but Dean just thinks he's being expedient. The ability came in handy during high school when Dean's main occupation was finding the next girl to grace his backseat and not preparing for the latest algebra test. His muteness worked against him while he was little, but once he began to notice girls, he began to notice that he was a silent mystery to them and this made him the center of a lot of attention. It still does a fact that annoys his little brother to no end.
"Jerk," Sam mutters with no real heat as Dean goes up the stairs to shower off the grime from working on his car all afternoon.
Bitch, Dean returns with affection.
Bobby, walking into the kitchen, hears the shower turn on. Sam glances up at the stairs and a slight frown creases his forehead. In the upstairs bathroom, the toilet flushes.
Dean's mental voice bellows, SAM!
Sam just grins and keeps sliding his fingers across the book pages.
"Idjits," Bobby grumbles.