Sam reflects on the growing up with Dean.

Here are his thoughts.

Warning: Not Wincest but could be seen as it if you squint really hard in a few places. Schmoopy and wee!Chester stuff.

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The things we forget and the things we remember make us who we are.

We remember how he kissed our boo boos when we fell off our bike, when he first taught us to ride it.

We forget he poked us in the ribs when we wouldn't stop begging Dad for the bike, for months on end.

We remember the things he did for us, raising us, feeding us, caring for us in little rooms and abandoned houses, and all the schools we had to attend and leave. We remember he was walking beside us in those hallways, helping us study, and pointing out the girls we might like or were looking at us making us blush before he laughed, that sexy full throated laugh.

We forget the times he wasn't there or was on a hunt and we had to go by ourselves. We forget the times we got a black eye and had to beat the crap out of the loser that called us queers for always being together in the halls and mistook us for more than we were. Dean would have done worse, so we let ourselves forget.

We remember the little things, fingers in hair as he checked discreetly for fever when he knew we were sick and hiding it. We remember the Lucky Charms; he let us eat them all and gave us the toy, even though they were his favorite cereal, too. We remember seeing him come through the door with Dad, limping and tackling him to ground anyway, him laughing and hugging us back, even though it probably aggravated his injuries and hurt to do.

We remember Dad's jealous looks and hurt expression.

So we remember hugging Dad, too. So he didn't feel so hurt anymore or left out. Even though the one person you couldn't live without and it would kill you to not see walk into the door after a hunt wasn't him, It was Dean. We remember hiding this truth deep in our hearts and letting Dad know we loved him as much as we could, that he was still our Dad. Even though the truth was, we would always love Dean more and that Dad wasn't Dad to us, Dean was.

We forget the times we fought and said hurtful things, simply because they were blasphemies and would hurt us to know they existed side by side with the things we held so sacred: His green eyes and cocky petal like smile exposing white teeth and handsome as Apollo the Sun god we read about in English that day. Except we think that Apollo would nowhere compare to how good looking our brother is. Apollo is the ugly girl at the dance compared to Dean.

We remember the things they taught us. The good and the bad. We remember the sex talks, Dean, not Dad, was there for those, the way we liked it, we'd waited until Dad left to bring it up. We remember the instructions he gave us, not just for hunting but for everything we'd ever did in life. We hold those truths to be the only things that mattered.

We forget we often were sullen and pouted when he disagreed with us or that we didn't always get our way, simply because Dean almost always gave us our way, and he always gave into that look.

And now as we are grown and facing pain and trials, struggles that feel like they are ripping us apart.

We remember we are the glue that both holds each other together and puts us back together every time. We remember we are stronger together and cling to that truth for dear life.

We forget the times we've betrayed and let each other down, simply because they are not as important as what we have when we get past them and forgive each other, how good it feels to be at each other's side.

But most of all, we remember we are Dean and Samuel Winchester.

And forget everything else, since it pales in comparison to that, like shadows fleeing from the light.

We are One.

And as One, we'll kick your ass every damn time!

Together.