"Hey short-stuff, you ready to go?" Dean asked his little brother as he walked up to him, leaning casually against the locker next to his.
"Yeah, Dean, just a second." Sam muttered, pulling more textbooks out and shoving them into his book-bag.
"You got a lot of homework or something?"
"No, just trying to catch up."
"We just got here this week, dude, how could you possibly be behind?"
"This school is ahead of our last one. I have no idea what's going on in math or history right now." Sam grumbled, his frustration evident on his expressive young face.
Dean nodded, because he understood. He didn't give a shit about education, but Sammy did and Dean knew how hard it must be on the kid to be switching schools all the time and still meet the impractically high standards he set for himself.
"I'm hoping that if I read through the first few units I will be able to figure out what's going on." Sam explained, shoving another book into his bag.
"You're not planning on doing all that tonight are you? It's Halloween."
"I know, I just have so much to do."
"Don't panic, kiddo, we just got here. Give yourself some time. You'll figure it out." The older teen encouraged as he ruffled his little brother's shaggy brown hair.
Sam rolled his eyes as he ducked his head out of reach.
Dean was about to make fun of him for being such a dork, when he was distracted by someone calling his name.
He turned to see the girl who sat beside him in English class making her way over.
"Hey." He greeted, turning towards her, trying and failing to remember her name.
"You free tonight? Cause a bunch of us are going to hang out at Justin's, his parents are out of town so..." She faded off, probably not wanting to announce in the high school hallway that there would be alcohol at the party.
"That sounds cool, but I'm busy."
"Oh alright, well in case you change your mind, here's the address." What's-her-name said, handing Dean a slip of paper with a home address written in very careful, very girly writing. It was signed Katie, the i dotted with a heart, which made it difficult for Dean not to roll his eyes.
"Thanks." He said, pocketing the note and waiting for her to leave.
"Sure, anytime." She replied, still standing there.
Realizing that she wasn't one for taking a hint, Dean simply turned back to his little brother, hearing heels click off down the hall after a moment.
The older teen watched as Sam struggled to zip-up his overly-stuffed bookbag, clearly favoring his right shoulder the entire time; once he was finally able to get the zipper closed, he went to sling knapsack on, but before it landed in place on his back, Dean reached out and snagged the bag.
"Dean, what the hell?" Sam began to argue as the taller teen tugged the backpack from his grip.
"Holy shit, kid, you got the entire library in here?" Dean queried, feeling the heavy weight settle onto his shoulder.
"I can carry my own damn bag." Sam grumbled, grabbing for the knapsack.
"I doubt it. This weighs more than you do."
"It does not. It's my bag!"
"Well I don't have one, so I'm going to borrow yours."
"You have a backpack, you just never bring it to school because you don't do any work."
"Yeah well, you just got rid of a sling, so how about we let me do the heavy lifting for now."
"Exactly, I got rid of the sling because my shoulder is fine."
"Good, let's keep it that way."
Give it to me, Dean." The younger boy whined, trying to pull it from his brother's shoulder.
"Shut up, Sam." Dean dismissed, making his way out of the school.
Sam could bitch and whine all he wanted, but this was his first day not wearing his sling and Dean could tell that the kid's shoulder was in pain.
He chucked Sam's bag into the backseat before climbing into the Impala. Even though he had already owned her for a little more than a year, Dean still felt a strong sense of pride whenever he sat behind the wheel. Sam dropped into the passenger seat, pulling the door closed and staring sulkily out the windshield.
"And for the record, the doctor said that your sling could come off in two or three weeks. And it has only been two, so it probably shouldn't even be off yet." Dean lectured, as he wove his way through the mass exodus of teenagers and out of the school parking lot.
"Well, if you hadn't dislocated my shoulder, I wouldn't have needed the damn thing in the first place." Sam snapped, throwing an accusatory glare at the teen to his left.
Dean was taken aback by the response. His little brother was right of course. They had been training, and Dean had royally fucked up. He had got caught up in the scuffle and his father's commanding shouts and had pinned Sam much too hard. The brothers had been training more intensely as of late, John pushing them both to their limit and sometimes it caused Dean to forget that even though Sam could fight with a grace and skill far beyond his years, he was still four years younger than Dean and half the firstborn's size. He was still a child. A child that Dean was meant to be protecting, a boy he was supposed to look after, a kid he was fucking raising – and Dean had slammed him into the ground without taking the time or paying enough bloody attention to realize the contorted angle Sam was falling in. The youngest Winchester hadn't even let out a cry after his shoulder had absorbed the force of the fall, but Dean had been able to tell immediately from the look on his kid's face that he had hurt him.
Dean had felt guilty as hell after it happened, and in the hospital, and during the x-rays, and every goddamn second he'd seen his little brother sporting that sling – the guilt had faded a little once the visual evidence had vanished, but Sam's words had just caused it to return full-force, stealing the air from Dean's lungs as violently as a fist to the gut. Dean couldn't blame Sam for pointing out the truth, nor would he, but that didn't mean that it didn't hurt like hell. Especially since his little brother had spent the past couple weeks constantly assuring the older teen that it wasn't his fault. Sam had been claiming that he had been the one to mess-up by attempting a last minute maneuver, causing him to go down on a bad angle; and even though Dean knew that was complete bullshit and the injury had been entirely his own fault, he had felt immensely better knowing that his little brother didn't blame him.
Or so he had thought.
"I didn't mean that."
Dean glanced to his right and noticed that the accusatory stare had been replaced with one of guilt and regret – the same expression he was certain painted his own face at the moment.
He returned his attention to the road, too confused by his storming emotions to form any sort of response.
He had hurt Sam, unintentionally, but he still knew that it was his fault. He never denied that Sam's dislocated shoulder was his doing, and not a day went by since it happened that he didn't feel bad about it. But Sam had been so adamant that it wasn't Dean's fault and the older teen had held on to that, he had allowed himself to believe that his little brother didn't blame him. But now Dean was left wondering that maybe Sam had lied, and maybe he actually blamed the older boy as much as Dean blamed himself.
Not that there would be anything wrong with that, it really shouldn't upset Dean at all. But for some reason, Sam placing rightful accusation on him hurt the teen, it hurt him a lot.
"Dean, seriously, I didn't mean it." Sam declared, placing a hand on Dean's arm, clearly trying to attract his attention.
"Don't worry about it, Sam." Dean replied, sending his little brother an understanding look, hiding the hurt underneath; knowing that the kid didn't deserve to feel bad for stating the facts.
He watched Sam nervously chewing on his lip out of the corner of his eye and felt an instant urge to ease his worries – because Dean deserved every drop of the guilt he was carrying, but Sam sure as hell did not. He had done nothing wrong.
"What kind of junk-food do you want for tonight?" He questioned, diverting the conversation and doing the best to lighten the mood.
It was a tradition. Ever since Sam had found out about the details of the family business, he hated Halloween. He didn't understand why people would celebrate or laugh-off the daily horrors his family experienced. That, and his crippling fear of clowns, pretty much made Halloween the second worst day of the year. So, a few years back the boys started a tradition of spending the evening eating junk food and watching movies.
"Actually, I was wondering if it would be okay if we did something else tonight." Sam suggested quietly, seemingly nervous about what his brother's response would be.
Dean quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, cocking his head to the side.
"What'd you have in mind?"
"Well I got invited to a party, so I thought maybe I would go."
"Oh, alright, you sure?" The teen wondered, surprised that his little brother was up for any sort of Halloween celebration.
"Yeah, and then you can go to your party." Sam pointed out.
"I guess I'll check it out, stay awhile if it isn't too lame." Dean agreed with a sigh, doubting that would be the case.
They sat in silence for a while as Dean tried to figure out why his little brother was all of the sudden feeling Halloween friendly, and Sam kept glancing over at the older boy for some reason Dean wasn't quite grasping. Sam appeared unsure about something, or nervous, the teen couldn't quite pin it.
"You need a costume or anything?" Dean asked, fishing for whatever it was he seemed to be missing.
"No, it's alright." Sam sighed, sounding almost disappointed, making the elder Winchester feel like he'd just flunked a test he hadn't known he was taking. He frowned, his mind still struggling to figure out what was going on with his kid.
He tried to shake it off once they arrived at the motel, assuming he was overthinking things and pushing Sam's confusing behaviour from his mind. He spent the next couple of hours looking after his baby, always enjoying those times dad would go off on a hunt without leaving him with a boatload of shit to do, satisfied that he could actually spend a few hours after school making his girl shine, even though it was getting pretty damn cold outside.
The setting of the sun and the bite of the evening wind sent Dean back inside, where he was far from surprised to find his little brother curled up on the couch with his nose in a book.
"You want anything for dinner?" Dean inquired, walking back into the stuffy motel room.
"No, it's fine. Don't you have to get going?" Sam asked, glancing up over his history textbook.
"Yeah, I was going to grab a shower and then head out. Where do you need to be dropped off?"
"Uuhh…we were just going to meet at the arcade, so… I can walk." Sam stuttered out.
"No, I'll drop you off."
"No, Dean, really, it's fine. I'll walk."
"What the hell, dude? The arcade is all the way across town, just let me take you." Dean insisted, confused yet again by his kid's irregular behaviour.
"It's not that far. Just let me walk." Sam argued.
"No. I'm driving you. End of story. Be ready in ten." The teen finalized, closing the bathroom door to end the conversation.
Ten minutes later the brothers were back in the car. Sam was silent the entire way to the arcade, only muttering a quiet "thanks" as he went to climb out of the vehicle.
"Hey! Wait, what time you going to be finished here?" Dean asked, grabbing hold of Sam's sleeve to stall his exit.
"I don't know." Sam grumbled, before tugging his jacket away from Dean's grip.
"Well give me a time to come pick you up at." The teen instructed, growing tired of the attitude he was receiving for a reason he didn't totally understand.
"You don't have to pick me up, I can walk back. I have legs." Sam stated.
"Congratulations, but I'm still coming to get you. So what time?"
"Gawd, Dean, just let it go. I'm walking home. I don't need you escorting me everywhere." The younger boy argued, a definite bite to his words.
"You think I get off on being your fucking chauffer, dude?" Dean snapped back.
"Then just got to your stupid party and leave me the fuck alone." Sam nearly shouted, ripping his sleeve from his brother's grasp and slamming the door.
Dean watched the kid march into the building, debating whether or not to get out and drag that skinny-ass back to the motel. He decided that not only would that course of action mortify his little brother, but it wasn't worth the effort, because that stubborn brat probably wouldn't co-operate and there was no chance in hell Dean was going to get physical with him, especially not after he already dislocated the young boy's shoulder.
So, he let Sam be, but as he guided the Impala back onto the road, his mind was still mauling over the young teen's latest behaviour.
First, Sam throws the fact that Dean messed up his shoulder in his brother's face, which - while being entirely understandable - was very unlike Sam, and then the he opts out of their yearly tradition, which was also very unlike him; Sam had always had a love for their traditions even as lame as the Winchester version of tradition could sometimes be. A part of Dean wanted to just peg this as one of those days where the two of them just needed some space from one another, but the big brother part of him knew that there was something else going on. Perhaps Sam was mad about his brother - the one person on the planet he was supposed to be able to trust and depend on - hurting him during training, or maybe he was at the age where it was no longer cool to hang out with your older brother.
That stung.
Because what the hell? Dean spent years watching out for and looking after the snot-nosed midget, and it's not like that helped his badass image one fucking bit. He had ditched loads of parties, choosing to hang out with his little brother instead. He spent his entire life making sacrifices for the little prick, and now that Sam's older he ditches Dean the second he can?
Could he be that selfish?
Dean was sorry that he hurt the kid, honest to God he was, he had had been having shitty dreams about it, hadn't gotten a good sleep in weeks - but wasn't like he did it on purpose. It wasn't his fault that Sam was so freaking small and that John wouldn't stop fucking yelling and drilling them, and that he had been exhausted and hadn't been focussed enough on his little brother and the awkward angle he had twisted himself into.
He'd fucked up and he knew it, but Sam didn't get to hate him for it.
He hurt the kid one fucking time, he made one goddamn mistake, and Sam decides that he's too good for Dean? That he doesn't want to hang around his brother anymore?
Well fine then, it was no sweat off Dean's back. He had better things to do then spend the evening with some snot-nosed brat. Sam was too damn good for him now? Dean had finally made a mistake too big to be forgiven? Sam had decided he was done with him? Fine.
Fuck him.
Dean's stomach was twisted in guilt and hurt, and his jaw was clenched in barely contained anger as he pulled up to the address written on the paper sitting crumpled in my pocket.
The party was in full swing. It was over-crowded, everyone was wearing shitty costumes, holding some sort of alcoholic beverage, and already tipsy enough to be loud and irritating. Dean wandered about for a while, doing little to contribute to any sort of conversation he was sucked into. After less than an hour he realized that it just wasn't happening.
Not tonight.
He hadn't even had anything to drink yet, but he knew he wasn't staying any longer. Even with that one girl from English class practically throwing herself at him, Dean couldn't get his mind off his stupid little brother. Though part of him wanted to stay and drink himself into oblivion so he could forget how hurt and furious he was, he knew he couldn't do that, not tonight. He had to stay sober in case Sam did end up needing a ride home and he had to stay aware and conscious enough to be back at the motel at a reasonable hour so he could be sure that Sam made it back at a reasonable hour. Because he had to make sure the little shit was safe.
Because the reality was, that no matter how much Sam hated him, Dean would never stop looking out for the kid.
Dean marched back out into the cold, tugging his leather jacket tighter around himself as he shivered. He took a moment to appreciate the silence after having endured the pounding bass and the loud teenagers thundering through the house, before climbing back into the Impala and heading back to the motel, resigning himself to an evening of vedging in front of the idiot box. The chill in the air had him worried about his little brother. It was fucking cold and Sam was wearing his fall jacket which was shit and was something Dean had already intended to throw out once the season had ended. The damn thing was worn through and Dean had wanted to replace it as soon as the summer ended but Sam had insisted it was fine and of course their father and seconded that because John was a fucking moron. Dan scowled as he drove down the dark road, trying not to think about his little brother walking across town, shivering in the night air.
But why should Dean even care? Because Sam certainly didn't. Hell, the kid didn't even want Dean around, even if he was just there looking after the brat.
How could Sam not understand how much Dean had sacrificed for him?
How many times had the older teen given up things for his little brother?
And then the second he can the kid jumps at his first chance to ditch the older boy.
Dean was so wrapped up in his anger that he failed to notice the light filtering out of the motel room as he parked. He opened the door expecting an empty room, but instead he was greeted by the sight of a skinny, shaggy-headed kid seated at the small kitchen table, looking up at him with wide watery eyes.
And just like that, the Dean's anger dissipated.
"Sammy? What's wrong?" He asked as he glanced around the room, finding no cause for alarm (other then a visibly distressed little brother) he strode over to the table and squatted next to Sam.
"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine." The younger boy declared, wiping furiously at his eyes.
"Cut the bullshit, Sam." Dean ordered; his tone serious, but far from threatening.
He watched as his brother turned his head, effectively hiding his face from Dean's view as he collected himself. Dean pulled the other chair over beside Sam, dropping down into it. Giving orders rarely ever worked on his little brother, it was time for a more effective method, talking and listening.
"What happened, buddy? Why aren't you at the arcade?"
"I never went." Sam admitted quietly.
"Yeah, you did. I dropped you off." Dean pointed out.
"And then I waited for you to leave…and I walked back here."
"What the hell, Sam?" Dean barked, his concern coming out as anger. He didn't like that the kid lied to him, but he really didn't like that he walked all the way back across town alone in the dark and the cold. "Why'd you do that? Why didn't you stay for the party?" Dean repeated calmly, internally reminding himself that Sam required patience, not anger.
"There was no party… I was never invited to anything. We've only been at that school for a week; I don't even have any friends yet." Sam responded with a sigh.
"Then why did you lie to me?" The older teen asked.
Sam just stared at Dean, eyebrows raised, as if the reason was evident.
Dean studied the kid, trying to figure out what the hell he was missing. Realizing that he was having no luck whatsoever Sam released a long sigh and let his hair fall before his eyes, before reluctantly spelling it out for his clueless big brother.
"Because I wanted you to go to your party." He stated softly.
"Why? You wanted some time alone to sulk around in this room and stare at the table top?" Dean mocked, just now noticing that there wasn't even a book on the table, no evidence that Sam had been up to anything remotely entertaining at all. No evidence for a reason he would want to be alone… unless…
"Is this about your shoulder? About what I did?" Dean questioned quietly, feeling the guilt hit him yet again.
Sam looked over at the taller boy, eyes wide.
"Because I'm really sorry, Sam. I swear it won't happen again! Dad was just pushing us so hard…and somehow I forgot how much younger and smaller you are and I wasn't watching closely like I should have been. But I swear to God, Sammy, it won't ever happen again! I will be more—
"Stop!"
Dean's apology ended abruptly at his little brother's demand.
"This is not about my shoulder, Dean. That wasn't your fault!"
"Yeah, it was. I pinned you too hard and I didn't pay enough attention to the way you were going down."
"You can't always go easy on me. So, I fell wrong. It's no one's fault. Shit just happens."
Dean gave the kid an exasperated look.
"Don't quote me to me, Sam. It's weird."
His little brother let out a surprised laugh, two dimples making a brief appearance on his young face. Dean couldn't help but smile, Sammy's stupid dimples always having that effect on him.
"Fine, so if it's not about your shoulder, then what's your deal?" Dean asked, getting back to business.
Sam's face fell as he returned his gaze to the marked-up table top.
"Come on, kiddo. Spit it out." He encouraged.
"I just wanted you to get to have some fun." Sam confessed quietly, looking up at his brother from underneath all that ridiculous hair.
Dean's only reaction was one raised eyebrow, a clear display that he still wasn't getting it.
Sam rolled his eyes as he released a dramatic sigh, his classic I-can't-believe-I-have-to-explain-this-shit sigh.
"You always get invited to hang out with people or go to parties, and you almost never go…cause of me. And I just didn't want you to miss something else because you were stuck hanging out with me." The confession was made in a soft voice with a bit of a tremble, and it hurt to listen to.
Dean instantly began to berate himself. How the hell did he ever think for one fucking second that his little brother didn't care about the things Dean sacrificed? How could he accuse Sam of not thinking of him or wanting to hang out with him?
How the fuck did he let himself believe that his kid was selfish in any way shape or form?
Sam had never been selfish, not for one damn day in his entire life.
"Dean?" The call pulled the older Winchester from his inner tirade and he focussed back in on the young boy sitting before him.
"Why the hell would you think that I would rather go to some lame-ass party than hang out with my dorky little brother?" He wondered, in all seriousness.
"Oh gee, Dean, I don't know. Maybe cause I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't have any friends and who always keeps you from hanging out with yours." Sam muttered dejectedly.
Dean hated himself, because that statement sounded disgustingly like something his traitorous brain had come up with earlier. But even when it had crossed his mind while he had been fuming in the car, he had known instantly that it wasn't true. And he needed Sam to know the same.
"Sam, I need you to understand something." Dean began, reaching over and brushing his little brother's bangs, smoothing them off to the side, so he could get a clear view of those puppy dog eyes. "I need you to listen careful cause I'm only saying this once, kiddo." Dean said, his voice soft but sure.
Sam nodded his head in silent agreement, as he waited for his brother to continue.
"The things I do, the things I give up, I do it for you Sammy, not because of you."
His little brother squinted, a look of concentration on his face as he seemed to be trying to figure out what it was Dean meant.
"I choose to hang out with you instead, because you're my little brother, and I want to look after you and spend time with you. That is what I want. Not what I have to do, not what I'm ordered to do, not even what you need. It's what I want."
"But it's not fair! You should be able to go to parties and have fun with people your own age…you shouldn't be stuck with me all the time." Sam insisted miserably.
"It is my choice, little brother, to hang around with you. And I don't regret it or resent you for it, not ever. You understand?" Dean proclaimed, ignoring the lump in his throat as he placed a hand gently under Sam's chin to angle his face up towards his own, needing to be sure he was getting the message.
The younger boy's eyes filled and his nostrils did that little flare they always do when he is holding back tears, as his jaw clenched and he nodded in comprehension.
"Say it, Sammy. I need to know that you get it." There was no way he was going to allow his little brother to think that he wasn't number one in Dean's life, or that he was some sort of burden the older teen was forced to carry. Because that was total bullshit.
"I got it, Dee" The way his voice cracked on the shortened version of his big brother's name made Dean's heart clench, and it was all he could do not to start bawling like a little girl right then and there. This teenager often looked and sounded just like the little boy Dean had raised and he had a feeling that even when Sam was an adult, Dean would always look at him and see glimpses of the child he was.
"Good." Dean grunted, awkwardly clearing his throat as he allowed his hand to fall from Sam's face, looking away to get a hold on his emotions. "Alright well if we are all good here I think we best get our asses to the corner store if we want some junk food for tonight." Dean suggested casually, sniffing and discreetly tubbing at his eyes as he came to a stand.
"Yeah that sounds good! I'm just going to grab something real quick." Sam said, jumping to his feet.
Dean nodded and made his way out to the Impala, sliding behind the wheel once again and sighing in relief.
Last time he had been sitting in this seat he had been so bitter and angry towards his baby brother, and now those feelings all seemed so absurd.
The truth was, he had never truly been angry, he had been hurt.
Hurt by the idea that his little brother could not forgive Dean for his latest transgression, and that the kid no longer wanted to spend time with him. And somehow he had allowed that hurt to turn into anger against Sam. Against the one person in his life who had never failed him and had always made him feel more love and worth than he ever thought possible.
That was unacceptable and he would not allow it to happen again.
When Sam dropped down into the passenger seat he was wearing his sling again. Dean gave him a questioning look, waiting for the explanation.
"I guess I'm not really ready for it to come off yet. My shoulder is still pretty sore." He confessed.
"Well I could have told you that. Why'd you take it off in the first place?" The teen asked, pulling out of the parking lot.
"Because every time you saw it you looked guilty, and I didn't want you to feel that way. But since we agreed that it was an accident—
"We did?" Dean interrupted, knowing that Sam had said as much, but that the older boy had never and would never deny responsibility for the injury.
"Yeah, we did. Weren't you there? Don't worry I'll send you the memo." Sam confirmed with a nod, smiling at his brother before turning to look out the windshield.
"Bitch." Dean quipped with a smirk.
"Jerk." Sam laughed.
Gawd, Dean loved this kid.
How the hell he could have ever thought Sam to be selfish blew his mind.
Sammy had forever been the most selfless person Dean had ever known.
Hell, the kid took off his fucking sling so that Dean wouldn't feel guilty. He willingly spent the day in uncomfortable pain so that his big brother would feel better. And as if that wasn't enough, Sam chose to spend Halloween on his own in a stuffy motel room staring at a table top, so that Dean could go to some lame-ass teenage party.
Selfish, what a fucking joke.
Dean looked over at the young teenager, visibly happy and relaxed as he sat in the passenger seat. And he knew that Sam loved him just as much as he loved Sam.
Sam gave up things for him and he gave up things for Sam.
They sacrificed for each other.
There was nothing Dean wouldn't sacrifice for Sammy… and a part of him knew that there was nothing his kid brother wouldn't sacrifice for him. And while that scared him to death, it was just the way the two boys were.
It was part of being brothers.
And nothing would ever change that.