Birth
By Alone Dreaming
Rating: T for future chapters (for language, mature themes, mild violence, general Dean behavior)
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. If I did, this wouldn't be posted under fanfiction.
Warnings: For this chapter, none, just sad themes.
Dedication: To Steph for giving me the themes and to the world for reading.
Author's Note: This is a series of vignettes. I'm trying to get myself into writing smaller portions of thought processes and I am using challenges to do it. There are twenty challenges in this group and I have five of them done. I'll post every other day or so except for this weekend because of plans. Enjoy!
He was born three times.
The first time was his actual, physical birth. He couldn't remember it, but his Dad and Mom had told him. His Mom said it was one of the happiest days of her life and his Dad said he couldn't have been more proud. It was his beginning, when he drew his first breath and when he first saw the outside world. But he didn't recall any of it. Hell, he had a hard enough time remembering what he ate for breakfast.
He figured that the second time was more defining. It was one of his clearest memories of his childhood. He was sitting in his preschool class, watching a cartoon with the intensity that only a child of four could manage. At the time, he hadn't thought much of the day, other than it was cold outside. But then his teacher came over and took his hand, leading him away from the talking animals and happy songs. His Dad was here to get him, she said. Something very special had happened, she said, something important. She didn't know how right she was. On the day Sammy was born, he was reborn. He brought his Mom flowers, sat on her bed, and held his baby brother in his arms. Just like that, he went from being a kid to being a big brother.
But those two births were nothing compared to his third birth. That was the real, true birth. It was what led to what he was today. It was the worst event in his life and the most essential one in his being. The day his Dad shoved his Sammy into his arms and told him to go; to run; to save himself and his brother; he became someone new. And he was both proud and sad to say that he was still that person today. That day forced him to become more than just a child and a big brother. It was now his job to be the Mom, the Dad, and the big brother to a baby. It was his job to be a protector, a guardian, a teacher, and a source of pure and unconditional love, all wrapped into one. This third birth was the most important thing of his life.
He never thought it strange that it took three times to get it right.