Title: Takin' Care of My Big Brother
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: Set early in Season 13, after a job goes sideways, the brothers flashback to a similar time when they were kids. (Flashback portion – Dean is 15, Sam is 11)
Door open, Sam stopped at his brother's room. Dean was there, sitting on the floor, knees bent, elbows bent, face in hands. A case gone drastically wrong. Innocent people getting hurt. He'd done the one thing you could never do as a hunter. He'd gotten cocky and overconfident and bad things happened.
Sam had come into save the day. The monster died. The people lived, but not before suffering severe injuries and third degree burns. Their lives, seconds away from being extinguished, had Sam not taken control.
Not bothering to knock, Sam knew Dean would've closed the door had he wanted complete solitude. Their unwritten rule of privacy in the bunker.
"Hey." Sam sat down next to him. "The hospital said the family would be okay once they healed up, though it might take time. The boy has some pretty nasty burns and he'll need specialty care for a while. I burned the wolf. And...uh, how you doin'?"
"What the hell was I thinkin', Sam?" Dean finally said, rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands then leaning back. "What the hell did I do?"
"You made a mistake. We do it all the time, Dean."
"I did the one thing Dad told us never to do and I almost got those people killed. And that little kid..."
"But they're okay. Or they will be."
"Just a win, Sam. It's all I wanted. Just a damn win. So I went in thinkin' this was just an easy job, no problem. I'd kill the monster, save the family, get that win and then what? I proceeded to do every freakin' thing wrong that a hunter can do wrong on a hunt. Every damn move. If you hadn't been there..."
"Dean..." Sam stopped, thinking. This case had triggered something in him; a sudden and similar memory from long ago. "Hey, you remember that job when we were kids. I wasn't allowed to hunt yet. It was Bangor, Maine. Yeah, I remember 'cause you took me to see that giant Paul Bunyan statue the day before you and Dad went out on that hunt for two days. That hunt, you came back and Dad was pissed at you. I mean really pissed. More than that, he was disappointed. And that...that really got to you. It got to you more than anything else. I remember Dad yellin' at you for getting cocky and gettin' people killed because of it."
"I did get cocky and they did die. That old man. He died...bloody and bad. I screwed up so horribly."
"And you were a fifteen year old kid, Dean."
"No excuse."
"Hell if it wasn't. You were fifteen and you hunted monsters. Not only that, you kept our family together and you took care of me and made sure I had a childhood for as long as I possibly could. But when Dad laid into you that night...I've never forgotten that look on your face. Nothing he ever said before or after ever hurt like that did."
"Sam, what does that have to do with me almost getting people killed today?"
"You swore to him that you'd never screw up again. That you'd make him proud the next time you were on the hunt. And you did. And again and again."
"And?"
"And nothing. Today proved that you're human, Dean. Again."
"I have no idea what your point is, Sam. I really don't."
"Doesn't matter. But your mistake when you were a kid made you a better hunter. It made you more aware of everything and everyone around you at all times."
Dean really was getting lost in Sam's point or lack thereof, though he was right. Their dad's disappointment in him had hurt like hell. He'd tried so damn hard to make his dad proud of everything he did, and then he got cocky and stupid and... He hated his dad for a while after that hunt. He hated himself more.
But in that reminder of hurt and pain, there was another memory; one just as sharp and clear as his father's disappointment in him. It was a memory of the little brother that he'd raised and cared for and had protected with his life.
"I remember. I remember it all. Every detail, every word. But do you remember what you did for me then, Sammy?"
Sam forged a small smile. That entire time was etched in his brain. It was one of his most powerful memories from growing up. He remembered and responded with fondness. "Yeah. I do. I was takin' care of my big brother."
"Yeah, you were."
"The big brother that always took care of me."
####################################
The pair stormed into the motel room, catching young Sam off guard. Dean tossed his duffel on the bed, their dad close on his heels, and pissed. Eyes flared, John was as angry as Sam had ever seen him.
"Pack up, Sam. Be ready to go in five. Your brother hurt his hand, help him."
"I didn't...It's not. I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't..." Dean rattled off, immediately protesting.
John grabbed a few items, tossed them into his bag and stood in the doorway, glaring at his oldest. Never a child. A world class hunter in the future. But right now...
"No! No excuses," the older man growled, his voice increasing in volume and anger. "I told you do let me handle the wolf. You got cocky and you didn't listen! You didn't think, Dean! And you see what happened. You were stupid and foolish and just damned immature, even after I told to get the hell out of way and let me deal with it all. You acted like a damn child during a dangerous job and you screwed up and people died. Now, get your crap and let's go or I leave without you."
Sam stood confused. He saw the blood on his brother's hand; the hand that was haphazardly wrapped in a dark bandana. He also saw the pain in his brother's eyes. The pain, mixed with anger and hurt. So much hurt. Those same eyes began to glass over the longer Dean stood watching the empty doorway his father had just vacated.
"Dean, here, I can carry your bag."
With a jerk to the left, Dean began to snap, catching himself just in time to not take his emotions out on his baby brother. He shook his head. "It's okay, Sammy. I'm okay. Just pack your stuff for me and get ready to go."
Sam did as instructed and followed Dean to the car. To his surprise, his big brother climbed into the back seat of the Impala with him, not in the usual shotgun seat. The ride that followed was quiet with only the familiar hum of the old car on the dark two-lane road.
Eventually, John broke the silence, having stewed long enough. "Dean, I need you to understand what you did. To really understand it. You cannot lose yourself when you hunt. You can't lose focus and you sure as hell can't go in half cocked when there are innocents involved. This is what happens. The wrong people get hurt. The wrong people die. And now you have to live with that. You have to live with that old man's terrified face etched into your mind and emotions. It'll always be there. Always."
The backseat quiet ended next. Dean's voice was rough, he cleared his throat to try and make himself seem braver than he felt. Sitting inches from him, Sam could hear the emotion in the wavering of his voice. He could visibly see the anger leaving his brother's face and the reality of how much John's words had stung him. Their dad expected everything from Dean. Sometimes too much. Many times too much. But Dean marched on and became everything that the family needed him to be and more. Dean was the glue the held the three of them together and it was difficult for Sam to see the most important figure in his life at such a loss.
Dean responded to his father's words. "Dad, I'm sorry. I really am sorry. I thought...I was so close and then he moved and...I didn't mean for those people to get hurt. I didn't mean for bad things to happen. I didn't mean..."
"To get someone killed?" John yelled out. "We don't mean a lot of things in life, Dean. You screwed up. I thought you were better. I thought you knew better. You're off the next job. And until I can trust you again. You want to be treated like an adult, then act like one. Now both of you shut up and keep quiet, we'll be on the road for a while."
Dean wanted so badly to scream back at him, to defend himself, and to remind his father that he'd been forced to act like an adult since he was four years old and took over almost full time care of his baby brother. But he didn't yell in return. His voice finished out hushed and small; so very different than the pride and self confidence that was his usual facade.
"But Dad...I…"
John shut him down. "That's enough, Dean! Not another damn word. Think on things you did today and figure out how you won't ever do it again on my watch."
Relenting, Dean ceased his attempt to apologize or explain further. His thoughts turned inward and closed in around him. Suffocating...
Sam, having sat quietly through it all, now listened to his brother's breath quicken and watched his pooling eyes shut tight, as the words and the anger from the oldest of the Winchester's slammed down like a ton of bricks. Every last syllable of those words, Dean took in, took to heart. And he quickly began to let them eat away at him.
It wasn't until the first hitched breath and Dean's fast-moving hand reaching up to wipe away the escaped tears, that Sam decided to act. He couldn't watch his big brother hurt. He just couldn't. Dean had taken care of him for so long. Looked after him since he was a baby. There wasn't any reason couldn't return the same to Dean.
Reaching over, Sam laid a hand on his brother's and whispered to him softly. "It's okay, Dean."
Just three words, but three words from the one person that loved him unconditionally and expected nothing more from him than to be his big brother. It broke that last piece inside that had kept Dean holding his emotions inside during this entire incident.
Slowly, and in a move that surprised even himself, Dean adjusted his exhausted body on the car's bench seat until he was laying on his side with his head on his little brother's lap. Sam's hand went to his hair and stroked lightly as silent tears fell from Dean's eyes.
"I'll look after you, Dean." Sam said in barely a hush to keep from being in the wrath of their father. "Just like you do for me, I'll take care of you, until you're better."
Dean didn't speak, but he did begin to relax in the embrace of his little brother.
By the time they stopped for the night, Dean was lightly dozing in the same position. John was fiddling with something on the dashboard and glanced quickly into the rear view mirror. There, he caught the eyes of his youngest. Always different than Dean in so many ways. A boy with his own ideas. His own will. But bonded to his older brother in ways that John could never and would never completely comprehend. And those same eyes that stared back at him through the mirror were stern. They were angry. John didn't have the time or energy to battle the eleven year old behind those eyes, so he averted the gaze and opened the door.
"Stay in the car, Sam. I'll be back when I get back."
Watching him go, Sam saw that they were in the parking lot of a bar. A motel across the street. He locked the doors and slouched down on the seat to get more comfortable.
"He's gonna get drunk, Sammy." Dean said from his prone position.
Sam nodded. "I know. I'm glad he's gone."
"Just you and me again?"
"Yup. You and me against the world."
Dean pulled himself upright off his brother's lap. "You're funny, Sammy. The two of us can't even handle our dad, much less the world. We can handle sleep though. Come'ere, little brother." Arms out, Dean pulled Sam back towards him and leaned into the welcoming intimacy of the Impala; Sam tucked into his protective embrace.
"Thanks for takin' care of me, Sammy."
"I always look after you, Dean."
"Yeah, you do."
############################################
"Dad was right, you know. Sam?"
"He was about hunting. But, you know, I never forgave him for tearin' into you like he did."
"I was stupid. I'd earned it."
"You didn't, Dean. You may not think so, but I know so. And you were really hard on yourself after that."
Dean leaned his head back against the bed. "I was always hard on myself, Sam."
"You were, but it escalated after that job. Dad didn't see it like I did. He was always on edge and out for revenge and onto the next job, but I saw." Sam nudged his brother's shoulder.
"Is that why you got all clingy for a while?"
"I wasn't clingy."
"Dude, you were clingy. Do you need me to cite examples?"
"Okay, maybe a little clingy, but I was worried."
Dean nudged back. "It did help, you know. Clingy or worry, whatever it was. It helped until Dad and I got back on track. But...I still don't get what all that has to do with this case. Yes, I screwed up both times, but beyond that...you're stretchin' for a story and a point, Sam."
"Maybe. Just...we aren't perfect, Dean. We may fight monsters, but you and I are human. Don't beat yourself up over it."
A glance over at his little brother and Dean replied, "You mean don't get all stressed and weird like I did after that hunt with Dad."
"Yeah. That."
"Or, what? You'll get all clingy again?"
"Dean."
"What? You were! I had to peel you off me after I got home from the next three hunts."
"Yeah, well, just worried about my big brother was all."
There was a slight pause as Dean turned a half smile at the comforting thought. "Just like now?"
Sam mirrored with a solacing smile of his own. "Yeah. Just like now."
"Thanks for that. And for now. I promise I won't stress too long about this case."
With a pat to the knee, Sam stood and walked toward the door. "You up for a movie?"
"Pass. I think I need to crash for a while."
"I'm headed to the kitchen. You need?"
"Nah, I'm good, Sammy. See ya in the mornin'."
"Deal."
Sam stepped outside the room when Dean called him back. "Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
The fatigued face of the older sibling studied the younger for a long second, then grinned.
"Thanks for takin' care of your dumbass big brother. Sometimes he does need it even if he'd never really admit it."
"No idea what you're talkin' about, Dean. Not a clue."
"Yeah, whatever. Get the hell outta my room, bitch."
Sam smirked and ducked out but not before yelling,"Night, Jerk!"
The smile on Dean's face faded as he closed his eyes tight at the sudden emotion. Sam had always had that effect on him. And truth be told, he didn't know what would've happened that night after the hunt with Dad had Sammy not been there. He'd been that distraught.
But his little brother had known he'd needed help, and that he could be that help. For all that Dean had given and given up for family, there were times when he just needed to know that there was someone who loved him and who wasn't afraid to show it.
Just like when he was fifteen.
Just like now.
He'd always taken care of Sam, but there were sometimes - many times perhaps - when that little brother took it upon himself to take care of his big brother.
Smiling to himself, Dean pulled his aching body off the floor and crashed face down into bed.
This time, with warm thoughts of family filling his head, rather than the damaging memories of the past, he was asleep within minutes.
The end.