Title: Love's Philosophy
Warning: None apart from the Wincest.
Prompt: Someone tells Dean that Sam clearly adores him.
Disclaimer: Don't own the series, but I own the dvds.
Notes: For FreekyDisaster18 and SimplyObsessed-1
Please review if you like it, it's part of my Dean's Angst Series
'Are you kidding me around? What are you a Winchester or a mouse?' Missouri hollered at Dean who then jumped back about five feet. He knew now why Dad and Bobby were somewhat scared of the psychic. For all the bravado Dean had, he lost it when Missouri actually hit him over the head. Okay it wasn't with the spoon she threatened with but it still hurt like a bitch!
'I'm a Winchester' he replied, sounding impossibly wet and about twelve years old. Missouri cocked one eyebrow, looking like Sam. It was probably where the kid learned it from.
'Then you mind telling me if it's a family trait for all the boys in this family to run, hide, sink into a pit of denial at the first sign of feelings?' she asked, her voice less scary, and more mocking, but Dean knew she was doing it for a reason. Missouri cared about Dean and Sam both, he knew that.
'No' he defended.
'Oh really, kiddo?'
'Miss-'
'I haven't finished' she cut across him 'Dean Winchester you have less sense than a two week old puppy dog'
Dean was used to being insulted, and took it with a straight face. Folding his arms across his chest, Dean stood his ground.
'I'm not insulting you; I'm trying to make you wake up!'
'There are other ways of goin' about it' he said and Missouri flashed a grin.
'You sound exactly like your father like that. Dean, sweetie-' as Dean flapped his arms in protest. 'Look, you love Sam, right?' and Dean looked straight at her, eyes blazing.
''Course I do. He's Sam, how-'
'Can anyone not love Sam? Yes you've told me that before. I know he's a sweetheart and a lovely boy, but I'm not talking about brotherly love Dean' her eyes grew soft. Dean backpedaled, wanting to run while he still could. There was no way, no one could know, ever.
Sam was in the other room, watching TV and reading the poetry book Missouri had given to him for his English Studies classes.
'Do I need to tell you?' she asked, advancing closer to him, but Dean stiffened. 'I do, don't I? I checked up on you on your way down, and last night while you were asleep. You're thoughts Dean…'
Dean looked to the floor, tried hard to push all the thoughts of Sam out of his head, all at once. He hated it. He hated it all. He hated all the dirty, wrong thoughts he had every night.
'Doing that ain't goin' to work Dean, your mind isn't like a trash can. Well not always anyhow' at the joke she offered a smirk.
'How do I stop it? He's twelve I don't want to –'
'You don't and you can't' Missouri said simply.
'You're a medium, can't you just change my thoughts or something?' he choked, tears bubbling up from his throat.
'No, even if it can be done it's not safe at all, and I'm damned sure that it can't. The thoughts come from feelings, I can't alter emotion' Missouri reasoned, and Dean clutched at the amulet that Sam had given to him.
'I just – I just look at him, and everything goes whacko! He's my Sammy, I even got jealous when Dad…' but he couldn't say it.
'You got jealous when your father taught Sam how to drive?' Missouri asked tentatively, knowing what kind of teen Dean Winchester was: a malleable one at times.
'He didn't just… I was meant to do it. He kept touching Sam… he's never there… he doesn't know anything about him' Dean said, holding back the flow of emotion, and glad that Missouri's house had old paneling and thick walls and doors.
'Sam's going to change, sweetie. You can already see it, can't you?' Missouri asked and Dean nodded.
'He doesn't want me, and he sure as hell thinks he doesn't need me'
'Shush! No, boy, you take that back because I know you don't mean that' Missouri scolded.
'He doesn't… not the way I…' Dean trailed off. He wanted to say: not in the way I need to be the one to ruin him, to take his innocence and to love him.
'Dean, when I said I checked up on you. I meant you plural' and Dean's eyes widened, shimmered with tears he refused to let go. 'I don't have to be psychic to know what I know. But I looked into Sam's thoughts when he was asleep, and you know what?'
Dean didn't know, and he was certain he never wanted to know.
'Whenever Sam has nightmares, he thinks about you. You're the one who he needs Dean, it's never John – never has been – never Bobby, never me. You, you silly boy'
Dean would always be at his side whenever Sam had a nightmare. Dean found out by coaxing it out of him, that Sam had tried to sleep on with them just so he didn't have to disturb Dean. Dean told him he was being stupid, and that he didn't mind. He too felt safe as soon has Sam crawled into his lap.
'He's growing up, give him time. A lot of things will change Dean, I'm warning you now' Missouri's voice sounded hard, which meant Dean, listened carefully. 'You need to be there by his side, he will come back to you'
Dean nodded, not fully understanding what she meant, but he wiped his eyes on his sleeve, sniffing.
'Hey Sammy, you alright, kiddo?' Missouri's voice sounded light, and she was looking past Dean. Dean turned and saw Sam standing at the doorway, with the poetry book in his hand.
'Yeah, thanks ma'am. Uhm Dean, I want to show you this' he handed Dean the opened book, and then looked at Missouri. Dean was too busy reading the poem on the page to notice anything going on behind him.
Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of Heaven mix for ever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle -
Why not I with thine?
See the mountains kiss high Heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea -
What are all these kissings worth
If thou kiss not me?
Dean, reread the last line and then turned to flash a grin at Sam.
'Nice one to use for your English project' he said, and he ruffled Sam's hair and went into the living room, putting the book down next to him and waited for Sam to come back.
Missouri watched Sam smile kindly at her, and she could see the start of teenage angst take its toll. Only she was to know that Sam heard more or less everything, but would never say it, and the poem was not for English Studies, but for Dean.