Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their respective owners, Eric Kripke, the CW.
A/N: I had to write a story for the holidays. This is when came out of it. I couldn't help the pain. The brothers just can't have a happy holiday...
By My Side
"Why do I have to save everyone!" Muttering only to the frostbitten air, there Dean Winchester sat... alone, on Christmas night. From his perch on the street bench, Dean looked in the window of a family, much like his had been before that fateful day that tore it all apart. "Why me?" Dean hissed for the one hundredth time that evening.
Not two hours before, he had been sharing a beer with his brother in their motel room. It had been a peaceful night with no hunt in site. They'd been throwing jokes back and forth when an argument broke out.
Dean thought back on it now, and he wasn't really even sure what had started it. But suddenly they were both screaming at each other, Dean pointing out how dangerous his psychic thing was and Sam trying pitifully to defend himself. Dean had been brutal. He'd said some awful things before he couldn't take it any more and had left. He started walking endlessly, just needing the fresh air to clear his head. The air was nippy, but Dean couldn't tell. Somewhere, somehow, he'd turned a left and ended up on this street bench in the cover of shadow, staring at the peace and long-forgotten tranquility of Christmas.
"Why dad?" Dean tried, wishing that John was there to help him for once in his life. Of course, Dean knew what he'd say. 'Buck up!' But Dean couldn't. His mind was so scattered. Sam was 'so far off the radar'. How could his family have been torn apart so utterly? Sam was still alive, yes, but was he really still Sam? "I don't think I could shove if push came. I couldn't," Dean whispered hoarsely to the dark. Sam, are you really willing to risk me? Could you really just throw me aside so easily and gain nothing from it except a huge target on the back of your head? His eyes focused, watching the family dancing by their fireplace with all their happiness written on their innocent faces. "Our lives are so screwed up!" Mom's gone, Dad's gone, and now Sammy's leaving me too? Was Sam really leaving?
He couldn't believe it. Here he was, alive with his brother by his side, figuratively, and he was sitting alone in the dark, wishing it had all never happened. Wishing he could look that happy.
Dean's ears attuned to a noise in the dark and didn't flinch when I large body sat next to him. He also didn't move when the familiar voice penetrated his lonely air. "I'm sorry," he said.
Dean couldn't help it. His teeth clenched in agony... internal agony, in which there was no escape.
But there was a temporary release. Sam's presence by his side, oddly enough, comforted Dean. A tear rolled down his frozen cheek. Dean's body relaxed as he felt the comforting warmth beside him. "I'm sorry, too," Dean finally replied and meaning every word it.
We may have a shit life, but we're together. Right now Sam's with me. I can deal with the rest tomorrow... after Christmas. This was the best gift Dean could ask for and possibly hope to get... his brother literally by his side for at least another day.
End
A/N: I love a little Hurt!Dean. But I love brotherly comfort more. Tell me what you think!