Dean taught me the alphabet.
Taught me how to tie my shoes.
How to cook macaroni and cheese.
How to write BOOBIES on a calculator.
He taught me how to drive.
Taught me how to lie.
How to kiss a girl.
What to do to a girl so that she comes fast - and what to do so that I don't come too fast.
Taught me his favorite songs.
And his dirty jokes.
How to play cards.
How to play pool.
How to throw a right hook.
Dean taught me how to love.
Dean read me stories.
Kissed me goodnight.
Sang Hey Jude to me so I would go to sleep.
Held me in his arms after a nightmare. Or during a lightening storm.
Dean helped me with my homework.
Gave me his lollipop when he went out of the doctor's.
Dean put band aids on my knees.
Took me to the hospital after I broke my arm.
Gave me the extra cookie.
And his sweatshirt, until I outgrew it.
He let me take a shower first.
Even stole food for me. And Christmas presents.
Dean protected me.
Dean lied for me, fought for me, cried for me.
Dean sold his soul for me.
Dean died for me.
Dean's my big brother. My parent. My role model. My best friend.
The one person that loves me the most.
The one person I love the most.
I'm a hunter. The boy king. The cursed child. The psychic. The man with the demon blood. The vessel.
A monster.
But to Dean, I'm none of that.
I'm just his Sammy.
And in the end, that might be my salvation.