Word count: 400-ish

Genre: Drama, angst, family

Rating: worksafe

Note: Got the prompt Supernatural/Hunger Games AU.

The nightmares had started weeks before.

In the beginning, Dean always managed to wake Sam up before it got too bad, but then he started having them more and more often, and Dean couldn't always be there. One day, when he came back from the woods, he was met halfway into the village by Ellen, who told him that Sam had collapsed in school and that they had had to bring him to Pamela because he was cramping so bad.

Another time, the day before the Reaping, the Peacekeepers brought Sam home, warning Dean that if his little brother ever caused a commodity like the one he's just brought on down by the market, they'd have no other choice than to bring him into custody.

Dean swore on his life that it wouldn't happen again, dragged Sam into the house and shut the door. But when he sat Sam down by the kitchen table to ask him what in the living hell was going on, Sam wouldn't answer him, only complained that he had a headache and needed to go to bed.

That night, Sam's screams woke him up just before dawn.

Dean was in Sam's room before he'd even registered being awake, pushing his brother flat against the mattress to stop his flailing, using his entire body weight to hold him down.

"Sam," he hissed urgently. "Shut up, Sam, be quiet, you're gonna wake Dad! It's just a dream, man, come on, snap out of it!"

Sam jolted awake, and instantly wriggled his arms free of Dean's grip to tug him closer. Dean blinked as Sam clung to him, sobbing into his shirt and begging them don't touch me, leave me alone, don't take, please don't take, don't pick—

"Sssshh", Dean said, hands coming up to card through his little brother's too-long hair, trail soothing patterns over his still twitching back. "They're not gonna pick you, Sammy. Your name isn't in there more than once this year. There's no way they're gonna take you."

He repeated his reassurances until Sam finally drew a shuddering breath, before pulling back, eyes as big greenish-brown wells of emotions looking into Dean's. The terror he saw in them halted his mantra.

"They never end up taking me, Dean," Sam said, voice cracking. "They take you."