Being Real
"Pastor Jim?", Dean said softly.
"Yes Dean?" The pastor leaned forward in his chair. Dean's green eyes were bright with unshed tears, unusual for the stoic ten year old.
"When will I be real to Sam and Dad?" It broke the pastor's heart to hear this boy asking in a ten year old way, "When will they love me the way they should?" Jim, because he was always honest, just like the Skinhorse sighed.
"I don't know Dean." He brushed his hand over Dean's short, soft blond hair. "I don't know."
Dean pulled the sleeping form of six year old Sammy closer to him. "That's okay", he mumbled as he fell asleep, "they're real to me. That's all that matters."
Sam filled a glass with water and headed back to his bedroom. It was dark and quiet in the bunker. He couldn't sleep. The events of the day had him more than a little concerned. He'd found Dean in the warehouse with Gadreel, his hands bruised and bloody. He'd totally beaten up a frigging angel with his bare hands. No easy feat. Cas had hurt Dean on more than one occasion so Sam knew the strength of angels. He paused just shy of Dean's door. Something wasn't right. Sam could sense it. Lately he had a sort of sixth sense about Dean. He knocked on the door. "Dean?"he called. No answer. Sam waited a few seconds and opened the door. Generally he would not enter without permission but he was worried about his brother. He stepped in to find Dean curled into himself, clutching one of the pillows as if he were in great pain.. Sam sat the water glass on the dresser and hurried to the bed. Dean burrowed further into the pillow and Sam realized why. Dean was crying. Not just tears, silent and terrible weeping. Sam's heart ached when he realized Dean was sobbing into the pillow so he wouldn't disturb Sam. He reached a hand out to touch Dean's bicep and pulled gently on it hoping his brother would look up. He didn't. The anguished sobbing continued.
"Dean, hey. Look at me.", Sam whispered, leaning over closer to his brother. As he leaned his elbow hit something flat and hard and he reached beneath the covers to pull it out. An ancient, well read, hard back copy of The Velveteen Rabbit. Sam brushed his fingers over the faded cover of the book. He remembered all the countless times Dean or Pastor Jim had read this book to him. That Dean had kept it all this time touched him deeply. He stroked Dean's hair . "Dean, what's up with the book man?" Again no answer. Just sobbing. Sam couldn't take it. He felt tears well up in his eyes as well. Sam didn't ask. He simply crawled into the bed and wrapped his arms around Dean. He felt Dean relax his shoulders a little against his chest. The sobbing slowed a little. Dean reached his hand up and covered Sam's with his. Sam ran his free hand over the cuts and bruises on the knuckles of Dean's hand.
"Whatever it is, can you tell me?" Sam asked, no pleaded. All he wanted was to take away the suffering. Dean shook his head.
"It …doesn't ….matter", Dean said between shuddering sobs. Sam leaned forward and rested his head on the top of Dean's.
"No, it does. Whatever it is, it matters to me." He hugged Dean even tighter. He didn't speak. He just held on, waiting for the crying to stop. Minutes passed and Sam realized his brother was still. He wondered suddenly if his brother had fallen asleep. He pressed his cheek to Dean's. "Dean?"
"Sam", Dean said in a raspy, tear filled voice. "You remember the striga?"
Sam sat up a little. "Yeah. You killed it. Saved that kid's brother. Why?"
Dean sighed deeply. "That night. That night it came after you. Dad was mad. I mean really mad."
Sam pressed his head back close to Dean's. "Maybe he was just scared Dean."
"No. He was totally pissed. He grabbed you up, threw us in the car, high-tailed it to Pastor Jim's and…he just…" Dean's voice trailed off. But Sam remembered what his brother said that night when he told Sam the story. Heard Dean saying Dad, he just never looked at me the same again." He waited for Dean to continue.
"Dad.. in the car…he said 'Your brother is your responsibility Dean. It's the one thing I ask you to do. Take care of Sam. And tonight Dean you screwed that up. Do you understand how important that is?' Then …he ..didn't ..say anything all the way to Jim's. Didn't say goodbye. Nothing."
Sam felt a tear leave his eye and run down his cheek. "Dean, you were what? Ten? That was a lot to pin on you."
"No Sam. He was right. I screwed that's the night I realized….I'm not real."
Sam was confused. "Dean what? What does that mean?" Then it hit him. Real as in The Velveteen Rabbit. Loved so much your fur fell off . Real to the one person who loved your fur off.
Is it painful?, the rabbit asked. Yes , said the Skinhorse. But it's worth it.
Suddenly Sam realized why Dean was crying, None of the great making-people-real-love he'd given had been returned. At least not in the way Dean needed it. Sam knew Dad loved Dean. Sam did too. So much it hurt. But no one made a habit of telling him, showing him. All the sacrifices, all the times he gave up what he might have dreamed or wanted were all secondary to the need to be real for Dad, to Sam, to take care of his family.
"I just keep screwing it up Sammy. Over and over, and all I kept trying to is make sure you're okay, safe. I'm sorry Sam. I'm so sorry."
Sam kissed the top of his brother's head which he couldn't remember doing ever, but it felt right, and said softly. "Dean. You haven't screwed it up. I know I'm the boy who abandoned the rabbit."
"No Sam. It's all on me. I keep on screwing it up just like Dad said. I'm afraid I can't …ever be real. Not like that. How could I? I mean the crap I've done? I don't know where all this is going. I'm…afraid of….this thing, with the mark and Abbadon. I just wanted to make up for it all. And I know I can't Sammy. It's too late for that." Sam realized Dean was crying again, not sobbing. Just silent tears. He felt the wetness fall on his hands as he continued to hold his brother close.
Dean, listen, "Sam said, his mouth close to Dean's ear. "You are the realest person I know. You have always given way more than you got. I'm really sorry Dean. I should have told you I love you more often. So should Dad. Please Dean believe this. I would not be anything, if not for you. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you. And no matter what I said on that bridge Dean, I'm glad I'm alive and I'm glad I have you. Not real? I'd say you skipped the rabbit and went all the way to the skinhorse."
They lay there close and safe and quiet for awhile. Then Dean said, almost in a whisper. "I don't know about me being real Sam, but you were always worth it."
"So were you Dean", Sam said. Neither Winchester made a move to let go of the other and Sam knew he'd stay there all night just to let his brother know just how real he was.