Teaching Dean to Value Himself
Chap. 1
Sam watched his brother carefully maneuver himself up and out of the Impala, wincing ever so slightly as he did so. That small grimace was all the proof Sam needed to declare his older brother injured. Dean had said on numerous occasions in past four hours that he was fine. Sam had known that to be a lie even before witnessing the cringe. No one got thrown into a wall, a tree, and then a head stone and came out unscathed no matter how good one was at hunting down the monsters of the supernatural realm.
"You told me you were fine."
"I am fine, so shut your trap before Bobby hears you!"
"Dean, if you're hurt I need to know. How bad is it?"
Bobby chose that moment to appear seemingly from out of nowhere.
"How bad is what?"
Sam eyed Dean, giving him a chance to fess up. When Dean only stared back daring Sam to say a word, Sam made up his mind.
"Dean's hurt. Happened last night while we were on a hunt."
Bobby turned to the older Winchester and raised his eyebrows.
"That true, boy?"
Dean had the good graces to look ashamed as Bobby shook his head in disbelief.
"Damn it. Come on in so I can take a look."
Sam started after the only family they had left never noticing that Dean stood where he was, holding the Impala door.
"Dean, git your ass in here!"
"Bobby."
That one slurred word had Bobby running for the kid. Dean never disobeyed an order. John Winchester saw to that. Now he was slurring. This was bad on so many levels.
Sam watched as Bobby caught Dean just before he hit the ground. Finally his brain registered what was happening and he flew into action, helping Bobby get Dean upright and in motion.
Dean came to his senses slowly. He first heard the voices surrounding him. Next he smelled antiseptic ointment Bobby always kept. Squinting his bright green eyes, he saw he was on Bobby's couch. He was safe.
"Sam?"
"I'm here, Dean."
"Ya, idjit! What the hell's the matter with you? It's a wonder that knot on your head didn't knock you for a loop sooner than it did. And those bruises on your back look awful. I'm pretty sure you got a few cracked ribs. Not to mention that broken collarbone. That had to be painful as fuck. You should have said something sooner."
Dean didn't see the problem. He wasn't seriously hurt. He had been hurt a lot worse on several occasions. Why were they making such a big deal out of this now?
"I really didn't think a few fractures were worth all this trouble. Uhh! My head."
"Yeah, Dean, getting your head smashed into a wall will do that. You lied to me. You said you were fine!"
"I am fine."
"I think our definitions of fine are vastly different."
"I wasn't bleeding out so I was fine."
Bobby watched as Sam disappeared into the kitchen, too wound up to even finish the conversation. The kid was right, though. Dean wasn't fine. Bobby knew that Dean Winchester had not been fine in years.
"You're lucky. This could have ended very badly for you."
"It didn't."
"Dean for once can't you just think of yourself?"
"Sammy comes first, Bobby. You know that."
"Sam wasn't hurt, dipshit! You were."
"Yeah but it's nothing I can't handle."
"That's not the point. You shouldn't have to handle any of it."
"Look if I hadn't provoked that ghost, Sam would have been hurt, alright. I wasn't about to let that happen. Not on my watch."
Sam slammed the kitchen door open and stomped into the living room.
"Sam can take care of himself! I'm not a little kid anymore Dean! I've been taller than you since I was sixteen. You don't always have to protect me!"
"Yes, Sam, I do. Dad gave me one job. One job, Sam! Watch out for Sammy, Dean! Take care of Sammy, Dean!"
"You always have. Now it's time to let me watch out for you."
Dean never got a chance to respond. Black dots appeared in front of his eyes and the room seemed to close in around him just before he succumbed to the darkness.
"Dean!"