A/N: This story was inspired by conversations with my sister, who frequently has nightmares in which she is being chased or attacked by bad guys or monsters. My nightmares, by contrast, usually involve someone in my family getting sick and/or dying. After one such dream, it occurred to me that these are most likely the primary types of nightmares Dean has, as well. Hence this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. No copyright infringement is intended.

MC4A Fill Number: No Capes Required, Fill #4; Solemn Husbandry of Exultation, Fill #7; Paranormal Phantasm, Fill #10; Not Commonwealth, Fill #6; Terms of Service, Fill #10; By Any Other Name, Fill #16; Fandom List B (Supernatural); Fire Time; Tiny Terror; He's My Brother; Wee!chesters; In a Flash
Representations: Dean Winchester; Winchester Family; Taking Care of Little Brother; Putting on a Brave Face; What's Out There in the Dark; Winchester™ Stubbornness and Pride
Bonus Challenges: Second Verse (Terse, Strange Potato, Creature Feature, Misshapen Pods, Non-Traditional)
Word Count: 637

Tag to Ep. 1x4: "Phantom Traveler"

It's Not Lying, It's Protecting

"So, what, all this—it never keeps you up at night? Never? You're never afraid?"

"No, not really."

He wasn't exactly lying to Sam. He isn't afraid—at least, not in the way Sam means. What's to be afraid of? He knows how to kill just about everything that's out there. He's got a silver knife under his pillow, and salt and holy water within easy reach. Ain't nothing going to come after him, asleep or awake, that he can't handle.

No, the nightmares Dean has are of a different kind. Dad not coming back was always a big one. Him and Sammy, holed up in a motel somewhere, waiting for Dad's secret knock on the door and it never coming. Sammy asking him questions he can't answer while he tries to figure out how long to wait and what to do next. Trying to call Uncle Bobby or Pastor Jim and getting no answer, being on his own, alone in the world with no one but his little brother who's counting on him to keep him safe. Sometimes he used to wake up from a dream like that and not be sure it wasn't real because Dad was still gone. Then he'd reach over and grab his sawed-off to check the ammo, get up to make sure the salt line around Sammy's bed was still intact. He needed to get as good at protecting Sammy as he could, just in case that nightmare ever came true.

Of course, now it has come true, if a little later than he'd feared. And the worries Dean has about what might be happening to Dad now… well, that's not something Sam needs to hear about.

Anyway, the nightmares about Dad were never the worst ones. It's the dreams about Sam, now as then, that really haunt him. And they didn't just start after Mom died; he has distinct memories of Mom carrying him into baby Sammy's room one night after a horrible dream where he was carrying his little brother and dropped him and Sammy broke in two. Dean had run into his parents' room screaming and crying, begging Mom to fix baby Sammy. Not until he'd gotten into the crib with his (by-then howling) little brother and held him tight could Dean be convinced to calm down and go to sleep.

After Mom's death, the bad dreams and the need for reassurance of his brother's safety had become almost a nightly thing, though the dangers to Sammy in his dreams were now very different—ghosts, wendigos, werewolves, and, more than anything else, fire. Eventually, as Sammy got older, Dean stopped climbing in bed with him every night, but he still had to get up to make sure his dreams weren't real, that his brother was okay. Even during the Stanford days, there had been more than one time when Sam had answered his phone in the middle of the night only for the anonymous caller on the other end to hang up after hearing his groggy, "Hello?"

It's easier to check on Sam now, with the two of them back in the same motel room like they used to be, only Sam doesn't sleep anymore. Dean wakes up at 3:00 in the morning, and there's Sam, his face looking tight and exhausted in the sickly blue glow from the crappy television set. It's a lot better than how Dean was seeing him a moment ago—burning alive inside their old house, while he tried in vain to make his body move to run in and save him—but it's still a long way from okay.

So when Sam starts asking him the next morning about his own fears, Dean quickly shoves them under the rug and answers as nonchalantly as he can. It's not lying, it's protecting. It's just what he does.