Night Terrors

So just a little one-shot. I'm trying to get my creative juices flowing so I can update more chapters for my forgotten stories D:

Please review! :) No flames:P

[This one shot is completely un-Beta'd. All mistakes are mine. ]

Dean woke up to screaming from the bed next to his. He immediately jumped out of bed and rushed to his little brother.

"Sammy. Sammy, wake up. Sam!" Dean called, shaking the screaming boy.

Sam's eyes snapped open and he shot up, tears streaming from his hazel eyes down his cheeks.

Dean scooped his brother from the scramble of sheets and placed him in his lap. "Shh, Sammy. I'm here. It's okay, Sam."

Sam clutched his brother for dear life as he wept into his shirt. He had had another nightmare, but it was much worse this time. Much more vivid.

"More nightmares, huh?"

Sam nodded and cried harder.

Dean sighed; Sam's nightmares were always worse when their dad was away. When he was with them, Sam simply thrashed around until Dean woke him.

Dean rocked his brother back and forth until his cries simplified to shudders.

"Sammy, what was it about this time?"

Sam shook his head. He hated discussing his dreams with Dean; his brother was so strong, so tough. Nightmares didn't haunt him, like they did Sam. He wished he could be more like his big brother.

"Sam, I can't help if you don't tell me," Dean whispered in a gentle tone.

"Uh, well, I think I was a baby. There was a man and he was staring down at me and he did something, then Mommy was standing at the door. She screamed and the man disappeared. Daddy ran to me, looking for Mommy. Then suddenly, Daddy looked up and saw Mommy and her tummy was bleeding! The whole ceiling caught on fire and Daddy grabbed me and ran into the hallway, where you were. He gave me to you and told you to run outside. You listened and when we were outside, Daddy grabbed us before the windows exploded! Then the firemen came and me, you, and Daddy were by the car. Except Daddy was crying. It was really scary, Dean." By the time Sam finished talking, tears were threatening to stain his cheeks again.

Dean froze.

There's no possible way Sam could remember that night; he was six months old! So, was this some monster's sick idea of torture? Or was it something else?

Whatever it was, it scared Sammy to death and it was Dean's job as big brother to make him better.

Dean's face lit up as he thought of a great idea.

"Hey Sammy, go to the fridge and get the cookie dough out, then put it on the table, okay?" Sam nodded hesitantly and moved from his brother's lap.

Dean picked through his bag until he found what he was looking for. He walked across the motel room to Sam. There, he handed the six-year old his favorite stuffed animal: a giraffe Dean bought him for his birthday three years ago.

A huge smile broke across Sam's face as he hugged the green and blue spotted animal.

"Dean! I though we lost Patches! Where was he?"

"In my bag, in case of emergencies."

Dean moved around his grinning brother and walked to the stove. He turned it to 350 degrees and moved a cookie sheet to the table, in front of Sam.

"Dean, what are we doing?"

Dean smiled. "Making cookies, Sammy."

Sam whispered, "Yes!" under his breath and Dean chuckled.

They popped the top off of the container and Sam stared at the dough while Dean looked around the kitchen for a spoon. When he found it, he handed it to Sam.

"Uh, Dean? What do I, um, do?"

Dean smiled again and stood behind Sam. Sam clutched the spoon and Dean grabbed his small hands, helping him scoop the dough onto the cookie sheet. They plopped small mounds of dough in rows on the sheet until it was full.

"You wanna put it in the oven, Sammy?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically and put the oversized mitts on his hands.

"Okay, Sammy. You grab near the middle and just slide it onto the top rack," Dean instructed, standing by to help if needed. But Sam did well; he opened the oven door, then grabbed the sheet where Dean told him to and easily slid it in the oven. He shut the door and smiled up at his big brother.

Dean typed 10:00 onto the oven timer and hit enter.

"Dean, what do we do now?" Sam asked, tilting his head slightly.

"We make hot chocolate, of course," Dean laughed, picking up his little brother and placing him on the counter, "Get two mugs out of that cabinet, Sam." Dean searched the 'pantry' for the hot chocolate packets.

Sam took his time picking out the mugs. He eventually found a dark green one, for Dean, and a dark blue one, for himself.

Dean grinned at his brother when he placed the packets of hot chocolate on the counter. "Okay, can you fill up the mugs with water from the tap? Then we can warm up the water in the microwave."

Sam nodded, saying, "Okay, Dean." He leaned to the left slightly and flipped the tap on. He quickly filled the two mugs. When they were close to over flowing, Sam shut the water off and put the cups in front of his brother.

Dean placed the cups in the microwave then waved Sam over. "Press the two, then zero twice, okay?" He lifted his brother high enough, so he was eye level to the numbers.

After hitting the buttons, Dean pressed 'START' and they watched the mugs revolve around the microwave until it beeped.

"Be careful Sammy; they're hot," Dean warned as he passed his brother the blue mug.

Sam just smiled and poured the powder into the water, watching it swirl around and sink until all there was left to do was stir.

"To having a night where we can actually do this kind of crud," Dean chuckled, lifting his mug to his brother's. Sam laughed and clinked his mug with Dean's. They both took long, intoxicating sips from the warm beverage before putting it down, panting slightly.

The timer went off a mere minute later and Sam grinned widely. "Cookies?" he asked his brother. Dean nodded, helping Sam down from the counter, "Yep. Cookies."

Dean slipped the oven mitts on and opened the door. The cookies were golden brown and looked absolutely delicious right about now. He grabbed them and put them on the stove top to cool.

Sam was bouncing around, smiling at his older brother who was simply the best person in the world right now. At least in his opinion. But Dean was always a good brother; he always gave up so much for Sam. Sometimes, when Sam had a new toy, he let Dean play with it first. He could never be as great of a person as Dean, but he could sure try.

After a minute or two, Dean grabbed two paper towels. "The cookies are hot. Be careful," he told Sam as he handed him a paper towel with four cookies on it. They smelled wonderful.

Sam cautiously lifted one and took a small bite. His eyes went wide and Dean chuckled.

"So…how are they?"

"These are the best cookies ever!" Sam exclaimed.

Dean chuckled again.

When the cookies were merely crumbs, the hot chocolate simply puddles at the bottom of the mugs, and the cookie sheet lazily thrown in the sink, Sam and Dean retreated to their beds. With the lights off, Dean immediately climbed into his own, sighing contently. Sam froze in fear. His nightmare came crashing back to him with such force; it made a whimper escape his lips before he could stop it. Sam covered his mouth with his hands. But Dean heard it. "Sammy?"

Sam knew if he opened his mouth, he'd cry. No, he told himself, no more being a baby. Be like Dean. "Hmm?" he hummed.

Unfortunately for Sam, his older brother knew him far too well. "What is it, Sammy?" Dean asked, sitting up.

Sam was silent.

"Sam. Come on, tell me."

Before Dean knew it, Sam was hugging his torso, sobbing with his face buried. For a second, he just sat startled. But here Sam was, upset again, and he needed to figure out what triggered it this time.

"Sam?"

"I'm sorry, Dean! I'm really sorry!"

"Sorry for what, kid?" Dean asked, feeling confused.

"I'm not tough! I wake you up all the time when I get a nightmare! You're a good big brother and I'm just…Sam!"

Jeez, is this what runs through this kid's head twenty four-seven? Dean thought.

Gently, he rubbed circles on his little brother's back. "Sammy, you're joking right? You have nothing to be sorry about, moron. You're six years old, Sam. You're not supposed to be as tough as your ten-year old brother. I don't wake up when you have a nightmare because you woke me; I wake up because you're scared and you need your brother. And really, Sammy, I'm not that good of a brother. You just think that."

Sam sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Oh, and kid? Being 'just Sam' is all anyone asks from you. Stop beating yourself up."

Sam muttered, "Thanks, Dean," before he backed up.

They both were still for a moment before Dean said, "Go to bed, Sam."

Sam still stood anchored in his spot.

"Sam."

"Dean, they're gonna come back. The nightmares, I mean. I can't go to bed."

Dean thought for a second before he pushed the sheets back. "C'mon, Sammy. C'mere."

Sam scrambled forward, lying next to his brother. When Dean made himself comfortable, Sam curled up to his side.

"Night."

Dean yawned, murmuring, "Night, Sammy."

"Oh, and Dean?"

"What?"

A moment passed before Sam breathed tiredly, "Thanks."

A smile plastered itself on Dean's face as he drifted asleep. He knew from there on he'd do whatever it took to keep this kid safe. Nothing in the world could compare to the love and loyalty the Winchester boys shared. And Dean hoped- no, prayed- it would stay that way.

The Winchesters slept soundly for the rest of the night. Dean loosely held onto Sam and Sam hugged his giraffe. Sam didn't have any other nightmares that night.

Annnnddddd done! So was it okay?

I got really bored while watching Supernatural reruns one night and got this idea.

Hope it's okay...why don't you review and tell me? ;D

'Till next time!

~Maggie