Dean would never intentionally put his brother in the line of harm.
Hell, he wouldn't put him anywhere near it.
It's impossible with their lifestyle, but there are some things Dean can control, and those that he can, he takes very seriously.
"No Sam, you're not going out. It's dark."
"But I need to go to the library!"
"To study? You can do it here. You know I'd drive you if the car wasn't getting fixed up. But you're not walking."
"Aw, Dean, can't you walk with me?"
"No can do, little brother. Sit your ass down."
These types of conversations were repetitive, similar to the start and the ending, but different only in context.
Where Dean went, fifteen year old little brother came along. And if he didn't, Dean would make damn sure he was safe and protected before he made any plans.
And sometimes, it worked out for both of them.
"You sure you don't mind Sammy?" Dean turned the engine off, directing his full attention onto his younger brother. Sam's eager eyes moved away from the house, and onto Dean seriously.
"No of course not. It's like a triple win. I get to study with my friend-under supervision from his brother who is your friend. And you get to do..." Here, Sam's grin slipped as his face wrinkled in distaste.
"...whatever or whoever."
Dean rolled his eyes, but chose not to engage in that particular conversation. Sam was fifteen, an innocent. His innocent. And the kid was smart as hell and aware-but still, Dean wasn't going to taint him by his own hands.
"Alright. You got your cell on you. Be a good little nerd and just study, alright? I'll pick up dinner on the way to get you. Pizza?"
Sam's eyes lit up, and Dean smiled at the sight of it. He loved making Sam happy, especially because he did everything he could to make it happen. There was no greater reward than the look Sam was bearing now.
"Okay chuckle head. Pizza it is."
"Thanks Dean. And really don't worry about me. You deserve to have a good time." Sam had lost any disapproval, and was now looking up at Dean seriously. Dean's heart ached at the sight of it, and he coughed over the lump he could feel forming at the back of his throat.
"I do have a good time, Sammy. Come on," Dean ended the conversation efficiently, pulling his keys out of the ignition and opening the car door. Sam scrambled out, all legs and limbs, before righting himself up and hurrying to the door.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were too damn eager to be rid of me." Dean chuckled as he and Sam walked together towards the door.
"Good thing you do know better," Sam huffed, rolling his eyes. Dean placed a hand on his head, running it messily through Sam's locks. Sam scowled, jerking his head out of the way. Dean smirked, and slid his hand down from Sam's hair and onto his shoulder, keeping a firm hold on him.
Dean's friend, Andre, opened the door before Dean could knock.
"Heard your sweet ride pull up. This must be Sammy." Andre's eyes lowered to the younger Winchester, who was suddenly shy under the attention from the older man. Dean squeezed his shoulder in encouragement.
"It's Sam. You sure he's going to be okay with you?" Dean's tone held a warning, and if the other was intimidated, he showed no signs of it.
"Sam. Sure. And of course, Dean. I know how you are about your baby brother. Come on, Sam. Mitchell's just in his room." Andre opened the door, and Dean placed his other hand on Sam's shoulders as he ushered him in, following right behind him.
Andre rolled his eyes, but lead them down the hallway.
Sam peaked back at Dean who was eyeing the house, his intelligence looking for anything suspicious or out of place.
Dean trusted Andre, and he knew Sam trusted Mitchell.
But he had to be sure.
He always had to be sure.
Andre knocked on a door, and a few moments later it swung open, revealing a miniature Andre. The younger had the same brown hair, same brown eyes, but a sweeter smile and innocent eyes. Dean smiled at him, and Sam moved out from Dean's hands.
"Sam, remember what I said." Dean said, and Sam nodded, before turning his back and following Mitchell into his room.
"I'll take care of them." Andre said as he walked Dean out.
"Where are your parents?"
"Do I ever ask you that?" Andre shot back as they came to a stop by Dean's car.
"Do you ever leave your brother with me?"
"Touche. Mum works late, and dad's out of state for a meeting. I got this. Go do your thing-you sound like you need it."
"Ha, ha." Dean chuckled dryly, opening the door and sliding in.
What Andre didn't know was that Dean was always like this. It was who he was.
No good lay, no good drinks, no good game or hunt was ever going to make him anything but.
And Andre would soon learn what happened, when you messed with the person who made him that.