Pairing: DeanxSam
Beta: Kiraynn
Genre: Slash, Angst, Deathfic
Note: Spoilers until season three finale.
The first time ever I saw your face
"Do you want to get to know him?"
Green eyes blinked in curiosity. He tilted his head, pursing his lips. "What if he doesn't like me?"
Mary laughed, still carefully holding the little bundle of blankets in her arms. She gestured with her head for Dean to come closer.
"He's going to love you," Mary finally answered, showing him the red, rounded face between the blankets. "Dean, this is Sam."
The little boy squealed in delight when the baby opened his eyes and looked at him.
"Hi Sammy, welcome to the family!" whispered Dean.
The baby gurgled and reached his tiny hands toward him; the boy smiled brightly and gave one of his fingers to Sam, who immediately grabbed and squeezed it.
"He likes me, mom!" exclaimed Dean happily.
"That he does," said Mary, her eyes glowing with love for her children. "That means you have to help take care of him."
The little boy towards the door, his smile growing when he saw his father. "Daddy, look! Sammy just grabbed my finger and smiled at me!"
John approached with a proud smile on his lips. He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Mary on the forehead before ruffling Dean's hair.
"So how does it feel to be a big brother, Dean?"
"Feels awesome!" exclaimed Dean, almost bouncing on the bed. "I'm gonna be the best big brother ever!"
Sammy gurgled in response, and Dean laughed. John laughed together with Mary, his forefinger touching Sam's soft forehead.
"I have no doubt about that. Sammy is lucky to have you as his brother."
--
Dean got up from the bed carefully and walked to the tiny crib, his bare feet padding on the wooden floor. He climbed the crib, sitting next to Sam who was sniffling softly. The little boy took the baby on his arms, resting his head against the pillows and improvised blankets.
"Why are you crying, Sammy?"
The baby made a tiny sound, fat tears running down his round face. Dean smiled softly, his little thumbs cleaning the rosy cheeks. He took a deep breath, trying to hold his own crying in check and held Sam closer to his chest. His face rested against the brown locks that smelled of powder and milk and... mom.
"Don't cry Sammy, I'm here. Since mom is gone I'm gonna take care of you now."
The baby hid his face in Dean's chest, his sniffling stopping little by little. Still holding Sam, Dean laid down on the crib and his larger body almost covered him like a blanket.
"Good night, Sammy."
The next day, John entered the room where they were currently living and found Dean sleeping in the crib, curled around Sam and holding him. The former Marine smiled bitterly, his hands ruffling Dean's hair.
"Sam is lucky to have you as his brother."
--
Dean watched the snow falling slowly from the sky, turning the whole world around them white. He absently curled his fingers around the necklace Sam gave him a few minutes ago. A fond smile touched his lips now that he was alone. He thought Sam would never speak to him again after he'd revealed the true nature of their father's hunts, but he was really surprised when Sam not only forgave him for lying all these years but gave him a present. A protection. The fourteen year old rested his head against the wall behind him, sighing. He was sure his father would be mad because he told Sam, but in that tiny little moment, he was happy.
"Dean?"
The blond boy turned around at the sleepy voice, his little brother at the door of their motel bedroom rubbing his eyes. Dean walked to the door, entering the room and closing it behind him.
"What are you doing up, Sammy?" Dean finally asked, rubbing his brother's arms. They were cold against his fingertips even through the long sleeved pajamas.
"Couldn't sleep well," mumbled the boy, blushing a little. "Then I woke up and you weren't here."
Dean chuckled, tugging at his wrist and taking him to the bed. He watched Sam lay down and started towards his own bed when a hand stopped him.
"Dean?"
"What is it, Sammy? I'm not gonna go outside again."
"Can I..." Sam bit his lower lip, "sleep with you tonight?"
"Just this night. And I will tease you for this for the rest of your life, remember that." The blond smiled slightly and laid on his bed, raising the covers.
Sam jumped up from his bed, laying down beside Dean with their faces close to one another. The ten year old boy smiled shyly, his smaller hand touching Dean's chest as if to make sure he was there. "Night, Dean."
"Night, Sammy."
Dean curled an arm around Sam's waist, protecting him as always.
The next morning, after they were leaving town with their father, the older boy discovered something that would torment him for years to come:
He would never love anyone like he loved Sam.
--
"You understand me, right?"
"Of course."
"I have to do this, I have to make this happen."
Dean just looked at his brother as he was talking, making one excuse after another. That only gave the blond time to hide his heart deeper and deeper, until his feelings and the pain would never see sunlight again.
"Sam."
The eighteen year old stopped talking and looked at his brother. Dean arched his eyebrow, indicating the bus.
"You're gonna miss it."
"Oh, right." Sam blushed and arranged his backpack over his shoulder. He bit his bottom lip, looking at his older brother. "Thanks for driving me here, Dean."
"Sure, no problem," shrugged Dean, looking anywhere but at him. "I'll call you."
"Yeah." Sam smiled and quickly hugged him before stepping back and going to the bus. "Thank you."
After the bus disappeared down the road, Dean drove back the motel room where they were currently staying. He took a long shower, changed clothes and went to the closest bar. After a few drinks, some pool, and two near fights he fucked the first man of his life. The sex was quick and dirty in the back alley of the place complete with grunts, bites and curses.
It still hurt like hell. And if Dean moaned 'Sam' when he reached his climax, his partner didn't say anything.
--
She was bright and beautiful like a ray of sunlight. Green eyes followed them as Sam walked beside Jessica on the street, their hands clutched together and fingers entwined. His brother was smiling happily, the lines of worry completely gone from his face.
Dean tightened his hand on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. The Impala rumbled fiercely as he turned on the engine and left. Two days later he broke into Sam's house, justifying to his brother that he was looking for a beer. He had the satisfaction of seeing how easily it was to take Sam away from his perfect little life so that they could be together once more.
When he rescued his little brother from the fire, his eyes watching Jessica burning on the ceiling, he knew how fucked up he was.
That night he sat beside Sam on the bed, the brunet sleeping after the pretty heavy painkillers Dean had mixed in his drink. He'd done it because he very well knew that was the only way Sam would get any rest that night. Softly, like a feather, his calloused hands touched his little brother's bangs. Sam merely arranged himself on the bed, not waking up. Dean felt the tears running down his cheeks as he twirled one brown lock around his finger like he used to do when Sam was only six, a gesture that would put the boy to sleep pretty fast.
"I'm so sorry. She died because of me. Because of my selfishness, she was gone just like mom. But don't worry Sammy, I'll protect you against them just like I always did. And this time... I'll protect you from myself, too."
He leaned down and tenderly kissed his forehead. He would never voice those feelings, never.
Even if it killed him in the process.
--
The demon always knew. The son of a bitch knew from the beginning what he would do. That's why he didn't kill him at that cabin a year ago. That's why he didn't try to protect Sam against any of the other children.
Because he knew about Dean's deep, fucked up love.
That didn't stop the blond from making that deal. He didn't even blink when the Crossroads Demon kissed him, bonding his soul to that contract.
Because living without Sam was worse.
When he saw the look of deception in Bobby's eyes, he smiled bitterly. What he was supposed to do? Watch Sammy rot on that ground, on that bed? Yeah right.
Not even Sam's look when he found out made Dean regret his decision. If it happened again, he would do it again. Over and over. Because on the night
his mom died, he made a promise that he would take care of his little brother.
He would never go back on that.
--
"Forty hours, Dean."
"Yeah, I don't need you to keep reminding me of that."
"Well, maybe I should!" exclaimed Sam, opening his arms furiously. "Maybe with that you will wake up and help me more."
Dean was up and shoving Sam against the wall so fast that the younger man only had time to blink. The blond was gripping his hoodie tightly, green eyes boring into his brother's. "Maybe I'm tired of trying to search for fruitless answers," whispered Dean, his face close to Sam's. "Maybe I'm tired of hiding what I feel, so I'm relieved I'm gonna die soon."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam demanded.
"You know what the most selfish thing I ever did in my life was?" asked Dean, changing the subject so quickly that it made Sam's head spin. "It was to make that deal."
"What?"
"A long time ago on the night mom died, I promised myself that I would take care of you. When Jess died, I promised that again..." Dean took a deep breath, releasing Sam. "Even if it killed me in the process. Looks like in the end, it really did."
Sam just looked at his brother, tears shining through his eyelashes. He raised his voice but it sounded hoarse and strained. "Where am I supposed to go without you? What am I supposed to do?" he approached his older brother, touching his arm.
Dean turned around and Sam kissed him squarely on the lips. Dean's heart just stopped and he thought he was going to die sooner. But his body, apparently, was catching up faster than his mind. His hands framed Sam's face as he kissed back. Their tongues entwined furiously as his body moved closer to Sam's, sharing heat. When they ended the kiss because of lack of oxygen in their lungs, Dean whispered against Sam's neck, like a confession:
"I loved you since I first saw your face."
The night extended for hours as Dean thoroughly mapped Sam's body with his fingers and lips. By the time he entered his brother, Sam was hugging him tightly as if afraid of letting him go. Their movements were languid and slow until the very end; the explosion of their climax.
Hours later, as Dean was twirling Sam's bangs on his fingers and feeling the moist breath of his little brother against his chest, he smiled bitterly. He would die happily, at least.
--
The clock ticked midnight, echoing throughout the whole house. Their eyes locked, ignoring Ruby, the demons outside, everything. Dean smiled, letting his love shine through his eyes for the first time without repressing anything. Sam's breath caught in his throat and he wanted to laugh hysterically.
As the hellhounds tore his skin into shreds, he thought of the first question he asked when Sam was born.
"What if he doesn't like me?"
He was glad that in the end, it turned out that Sam really liked him.
His job was done.
THE END