All My Life
Supernatural Fic (one-shot, possibly more)
Takes place throughout the series thus far
AN: Hey guys, its another one-shot since y'all seemed to like that one more than my LW series. Tell me what you would like to see. If you'd like me to make this into a series, or leave it as is. Happy Holidays from the twilightercullenxoxo family!
Also…I do not own Supernatural. Yet…working on that Crossroads deal…
Dean POV
All my life, I've had this weight on my shoulders. This thing that some people would consider a burden, some people would rebel and attempt to hide that this "burden" is what makes them who they are. This thing is my baby brother, Sam. I don't think I've ever considered Sam a burden, or that my life would be far easier without him.
Which, let's be honest, it might be. But…I wouldn't be the man I am today had it not been for that kid. It's strange, but no matter how much we're together and how big he grows; he will always be my kid brother. The words my dad said constantly throughout our lives ring through my head every waking second.
Look out for Sammy. Take care of your brother. Be lucky you have a brother every second of your life.
These words were drilled into my head at the tender age of four, and have never stopped being enforced in my 30 plus years of life.
The chubby little baby with the adorable dimples, and 100-watt smile quickly turned into a sticky-mouthed, pudgy toddler within a matter of seconds. That toddler morphed into what I know to be Sammy—the short little kid with a mouth a mile long, eyes full of question and wonder, and those dimples that would quickly fade from anger to joy to sadness in a heartbeat. Sammy stayed Sammy for a long time, until he turned 14 and quickly filled out. He suddenly sprung 50 million feet, his hair grew long and shaggy, his face lost the chubby baby fat and gained a soft hardness that I'd never seen on anyone but Dad before.
Suddenly, my role as Sam's caretaker, best friend, big brother and protector of all that is evil was not as necessary. Being a hunter, I don't have a lot that I can really call mine. But, my brother was one of those things that was mine.
He became mine on November 2nd, 1983. When Dad thrust that little baby into my arms, my destiny was sealed. I knew then, as well as I know now, that I would die trying to keep that kid safe, healthy and happy. Whenever Sam wasn't one of those things, I felt like a failure.
The few friends I had over the years called me Mom all the time. Because, I was always so worried about Sam. What was Sam doing, who was he with, what was he gonna eat for dinner tonight?
The first time I had to watch over him alone, I was six years old. My dad had an emergency hunt he had to take care of, and there was no time to find a sitter for us boys. So, he left me in charge. And wouldn't you know it, Sam would choose that weekend to come down with the worst fever I had ever seen. I did everything I could, and more. Finally, on that Sunday… just before Dad got in, his fever broke. Just as mine started to climb.
When Sam was four, he started getting into stuff. Always trying to peek in my bags and other junk. I had to always grab his hands, and yank him away. He also started asking a ton of questions. I answered some as best I could, but…I knew then, he was starting to figure out that Deanie didn't have all the answers.
Sam at seven was…difficult. His immune system sucked ass, and so did mine as a result. Every time he got sick, I was sure to follow suit within a few days. That's the Winchester Song and Dance routine. But, he started not wanting to listen to me. Which not only pissed me off, but hurt my feelings too. I hated not having all the answers anymore.
More than that, I hated not being Sammy's hero anymore.
Here's a secret that no one knows, not even Sam. When he was five, he drew me a drawing at school. It said SAMMY'S HERO in some random teacher's writing. I keep it in my wallet at all times. I don't know how he hasn't found it yet, but he hasn't. Talk about a chick-flick moment if he did. He probably doesn't even remember he drew it.
At fourteen, someone asked Sam who his hero was. My heart fluttered, thinking he'd say me. Selfish, I know. But…he said some stupid magician that he loved. My heart sank. Ironically enough, two weeks later I got laid up in the hospital with pneumonia.
Dad told me when I was younger, that I was too sensitive. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am. But, damn, I lived through the damn Apocalypse. If that doesn't entitle me to being a little sensitive, then I don't know what the hell does.
The look on Sam's face when he found out about our real lives haunts me to this day. The last year before Sam went to Hell, was probably the worst year of my life. I had a monstrous fight with the reason of my existence, I found out I was a vessel, I had basically no friends or family left. The best time was probably when Cas and I hunted alone. Except for that one hunt right after Sam and I reconnected. That one was simple, easy and fun.
Nothing is ever simple, easy and fun anymore. Not with Sam just getting his soul back.
Now my job is finally back. Keeping my brother safe. Only this time, it's from himself.