Sapphire09: I own neither the show nor the nursery rhyme.

WARNING: faults in grammar and OOC-ness

Under the dark sky the crickets sing their song of tonight's lullaby, accompanied with symphony from the orchestra of the wind and sound of other nightly creatures. Under the canopy of the moon, a leafless tree stood tall outside a house, a suburban home to the family living under its protection.

"Come on, let's say good night to your brother," a woman, with flowing nightgown colored in pristine white and wavy blonde hair that swayed as she moved further in to a room and turned on the light with a child no older than four in her hand.

The room brightens—a nursery of their youngest child, who was looking over at them as they came closer and the woman put the older child down. The child eagerly hopped down from his mother's hand and leaned over the side of the crib and gave his little brother a kiss on his forehead for goodnight.

"'Night, Sam," the child said, and then the woman—their mother—leans over as well.

"Good night, love," she said as she brushed Sam's hair back and kissed his forehead as well.

"Hey, Dean."

Hearing his name being called, the older child turned to see a man standing in the doorway, wearing a USMC T-shirt and warm, loving smile.

"Daddy!" the child exclaimed loudly as he ran and jumped up to his father's waiting arms.

"Hey, buddy," his father said to him, so warm and so caring and very proud as his father scooped him up and Dean was so filled with happiness and warmth.

"So, what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?" his father asked, mirth filled his tone and words. Dean shook his head, laughing with that innocent laugh of a child.

"No, Daddy," Dean said in between his laugh, and John laughed along with him, his own laugh that his wife loved to hear, and made Dean even more happy. "No."

A slender hand then touched the shoulder of the man. "You got him?" the woman asked, her loving smile was apparent as she asked the question she didn't really have to ask.

"I got him," the man said as he hugged his son closer, tighter to his chest and bid his youngest son goodnight.

"Sweet dreams, Sam."

That night was just like any other night, like a ritual of their family's rite. In another world, however, a creature of darkness, a spawn of the Devil, would come in this night, with flames and blood and agony and death following it; bringing an end to the happiness that existed in their innocence, destroying a family and forged soldiers.

But tonight, as the crickets continue to sing, nothing happened and morning came, like every other day.

|What Should Ever Be and What Not|

By Sapphire09

"…Because you're still my brother."

Sam Winchester (2.20 What Is and What Should Never Be)

Story 1: The Black Sheep

Dean couldn't remember how things went the way it was before, how he ended up like this, in here, in this position now that he had grown up.

When Sammy was born, Dean felt so happy, very happy that words could never describe his joy. Even as a child, his father always told him that he was a protector, a shield for his little brother. He always believed that, because his father was always right, and he also wanted to protect his little brother from every evil in the world. He loved him as a child, and would always kiss him goodnights with mom, and play with him. He took care of him, doing his part as the big brother even in the tender age of four.

He was so happy when his mother allowed him to carry his little treasure, his little Sammy, lifting him up with his own small hands. Sammy would stare at him in wonder and awe, and his own small arm would reach up to Dean and he would smile his toothless smile and gurgle, as if understanding that he has his big brother by his side and wanted to be closer.

Dean's most happy moment at the time was probably when Sam said his first word—De'n

He still remembered Mom's surprised-but-proud expression, and Dad's eyebrows rose in surprised-but-already-expecting-it kind of way. For a while, all Sam would say was the mispronunciation of his brother's name, and Dean never got bored of it. Only after a few days he finally said ma-ma and da-da, something that made both of his parents very happy (and while he was Sam's protector, he was still John and Mary's son, and he always felt that he was happy when they were both happy).

When Sammy first tried to walk, his first step was towards Dean, and Dean would catch him when the younger brother was about to fall, while their parents would stand nearby and smiled that smile full of pride.

It was supposed to stay this way, happy and content and united.

But, as time went on, it was getting harder and harder for Dean to stop noticing things. He knew he was independent, even when he was only six years old and could take care of himself, that even if Sammy took their parent's attention most of the time, he understood it was because Sammy still couldn't do anything by himself yet, unlike him. With his father being busy with work, he could only see his mother most of the time, but Sammy was getting even harder to keep up, with his constant crying and started getting a little bit rebellious.

As Dean went through his school life, after the first many A-plus he had gotten, it was always Sam this and Sam that, he stopped to even bother with studying. His mother was too busy with Sam, and his father was always tired when he got home, Dean stopped trying to get the man's attention away from the comfy sofa. When they did ask, Dean was past beyond caring—C-minus was good enough.

He understood the reason (because he is still Sammy's protector), but he was also a child that also wanted attention (but it's okay. I'm a big boy; I can do things on my own. I just have to help Sammy).

It was when Sammy also started to go school, he found out about the existence of a dark, ugly side of him that he never wanted to know, ever.

It was when Sam came home bringing his first test result—A-plus (like he was).

"That's great, Sammy! Congratulations!" Mom congratulated, her eyes shone with pride and awe, and Dad nodded his acknowledgement, and his eyes would show his pride to the world.

Dean was happy for Sam, he really did, but another part of him wanted to spat and as he remembered his own first test went unacknowledged, he felt the touch of the cold hand of Jealousy.

But, he still could ignore it, thinking that it was okay, he was alright, even as he felt the sting of hurt in his heart (but mommy and daddy were happy, Sammy was happy).

However, the touch of jealousy made his attitude towards Sam a little bit different. He would avoid him and try not to have much to do in his little brother's life. Dean still loved him, he really did, but he didn't want anyone to realize his jealousy, the ugliest face he ever slipped. And, before he knew it, everything was drifting apart.

The rift between them was too wide to cross, as they got older.

Sam became the perfect son, with good grades and his future on a plate, while Dean became the rebellious son, with attitude of an ass and brain full of women and sex (but it was never as bad as people made it to be… because he was a protector, someone to lean on, to count on. He was never the loser people said him to be. Mom and Dad could see that, but Sammy, like many others, couldn't).

He was sure Sam was ashamed of him.

But Dean was a protector, so he will still do what he does, even if his parents are the only one that could understand.

"Bah, Bah a black Sheep; have you any Wool?"

Dean woke up with a startled gasp. His green eyes looked around the room, as if forgetting where he was. Beside him, something shifted. A woman so beautiful with dark hair that flowed behind her, so beautiful like the night's sky, with eyes colored in dark brown, like the sweet chocolate in Valentine's Day, but with a hint of strength and fierceness bright like the burning fire. Her skin soft and void of blemishes, perfect in every aspect, like the goddess Venus.

"Carmen," he breathed out, and the woman sleepily looked up at him, her hand reaching out to her lover's shaking form.

"Nightmare?" she asked softly, and when her hand touched his warmed skin, he stopped shaking and a breath of relief was let out.

"That dream again?" she asked, sitting up and pulled the blanket with her, covering her private upper part as Dean nodded and held her.

"I—I need to see her," he said, his voice shaking with fear. "It felt so real, Care…"

Carmen's hand ran up and down Dean's back—so firm and strong, but carried a burden and responsibility of a belief planted in his early years. She hugged him tighter, and closed her eyes as her lips formed a sad smile. Carmen knew of Dean's love for his family, and she loved that part of him. However, his dedication was often brought him pain too, especially after his father, the one that understood him most, died in his sleep. And now, the fear of loss haunted him even in his most inner walls.

"You've been having those nightmares since your father died, Dean… I'm here, you know," she muttered to his shoulder, smelling the scent that made Dean so special from other men she could've dated—protection and loyalty. Her words were met with silence, however. Dean had never been one to talk about his feelings, and Carmen could only try to red her lover's thoughts and emotion without any means of communication.

Her job as a nurse really helped her in that aspect, even though her predictions were often barely accurate.

"Get to sleep, Dean. You will see her tomorrow—and Sam, too. You also have work in the morning. You need to rest, sweetie," she said, trying to soothe him. She knew that Dean cared about his brother; he just had a hard time showing it. Given Dean's reputation, it was a given he stopped caring to what others think of him, whether it was true or not. More than often his brother thought the worst out of him, and Dean never tried to voice the reason behind the things he did—no one really listened, anyway.

But Carmen did, and every time she listened her love for the man only grew. It made her sad that Sam couldn't see his brother like she did, but a part of her was happy that only she alone knew the face, the self, of the real Dean Winchester, the face only his parents were allowed to see.

"…Right. Mom's birthday dinner," Dean muttered out, calming down a bit.

"That's right. We have to show up looking our best. Can't make her worry now, can we?"

Dean let out a sigh, let himself to calm down more, before he forced a small smile and kissed her.

"Right…"

Morning came, but Dean didn't sleep at all, not even a wink. Carmen knew this, but she also knew better than reprimand him of it. She could only give him a long kiss before she went to her work, becoming a nurse that dedicated herself to the patients that needed her.

Dean savored the kiss, soothing and meant for comfort and love, just a peck that let him know Carmen would always be there when he needed her. It was what Dean needed the most at the moment, and he wondered what kind of goodness he did in his previous life that he had such wonderful woman to be his lover.

After breakfast, Dean wondered if he should go for work too, or call in sick. He really needed to see his mother, and it is her birthday.

So dean picked up the phone and decided to let himself have a day off.

"Hey, Luke. It's me. I wonder if I can have a day off, just for today," Dean asked after the phone was picked up.

"No, it's nothing like that—what? No! Look…. Well, kinda." A pause and a nod, then a snicker. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, man. Thanks a lot. I'll see you later then. Bye."

He then picked up the key to his beloved Impala and head off.

"Sam?"

The sound of Jess' voice brought him out of his musing and his attention to the clouds drifting outside of the airplane they rode in to get to his mother's place, her birthday.

"Hmm? What is it?" Sam asked

"I was wondering, since we're about to meet your brother too, if you can tell me why you don't get along? I mean, yeah, he's an asshole and a narcissist, but Carmen always said he was the most perfect man she could ever ask for, though I really couldn't see which part of him she was talking about. I was wondering if Dean ever was a brother to you."

Sam thought of it for a while, and he couldn't say he remembered a time when Dean was his brother. He had always been a bully in his eyes, an irresponsible big brother, distant and cold, and—though he will only say this in his head—a good for nothing asshole. Bar and stripper joint were Dean's regular place to hang out, and junk food was all he would eat (besides mother's cooking). He was a cold-hearted bastard that wouldn't even feel sad in their father's funeral because it was not 'manly' enough for him. He was the only one among the family that didn't cry.

"He's a jerk, Jess," Sam answered. "I honestly don't know what Carmen saw in that bastard. All I see in him in my time of growing up was him as someone I never wanted to be."

"That's harsh… You dislike your brother so much?" Jess asked with a light frown. She knew the brothers barely talked at all, but it never occurred to her that perhaps Sam hated his brother.

"No, it's just… I guess I was disappointed in him. He didn't care about anything, and I just wanted to see him care about something besides his booze. I really don't understand why Carmen loves him so much. She was such a nice girl," Sam answered. He honestly doesn't know what to think of his brother. He really couldn't understand his brother's actions and couldn't think of him as anything other than an asshole. But he doesn't really hate him… maybe. He is still his brother, though the words feel so shallow even in his mind. He wondered if he would care if Dean suddenly went missing.

"I see… Well, we also have to think about how we break the news to them, too," Jess smiled happily, leaving to another branch of conversation to end the previous that made her a little bit uncomfortable, unsure how to continue.

And Sam smiled too, thoughts of his brother replaced completely by the excitement on the thought of his family's looks when they hear the news. He didn't even care that he could picture Dean being there, but he couldn't make an expression for him, unlike his mother's surprised-yet-delighted, his father's proud-yet-stern (had he still alive), and Carmen's excitement and surprise.

He wouldn't be too surprised if Dean doesn't care and indifferent about it.

"Yes merry have I; three bags full"

When Mary saw her oldest son standing on her porch so early in the morning, she was surprised and worried, especially since she saw his green eyes hinted something she had seen in the night of his father's death.

"Mom," he breathed and hugged her tightly, as if she was going to disappear if he didn't hold on enough.

"Dean, what's wrong?" his mother asked, with her voice that always soothing, always comforting and chased his nightmare away. He hugged her tighter, before he released her and took in her face, ingrained it in his memory so it will never forgotten, trying to wipe off the look of her face in his dream, replacing it with what he saw now.

'She's here, she's safe, she's well. She's not dead, she's not dying, she's not hurt and not screaming in agony.'

"I… had a bad dream," Dean said, feeling like a child once more. Mary rubbed his cheek tenderly, and Dean leaned into her touch. Her eyes soft as she looked at him, comforting, worried, and loving all mixed into one.

Mary knew that nightmares often plagued Dean's night, had been since he was a child. He would cry and crawl to his parent's bed, but ever since Sam was born, Mary thought it had lessened, even disappeared. Turned out, that wasn't the case, Dean just gotten better in hiding it. Only when it was really bad, Dean would finally say it. And now, just a few months after his father's death, the nightmare must've been very bad that he felt the need to see his mother, instead the usual phone call.

"Do you want to come in?"

Inside, Dean took a seat at the dining table as Mary made few sandwiches for breakfast, which Dean ate slowly, savoring the taste he could rarely taste anymore, ever since his father's death.

"Shouldn't you be at work today, Dean?"

Dean finished his sandwich before he answered, "No, I got the day off. Asked Luke, and he said it's alright. He knew today is your birthday."

"That's very kind of Luke. He sure he could handle the garage without you?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, he said so. Besides, I don't really think whether I came in or not will make any difference. Luke is great, and Carl will be there, too," Dean said as he took another sandwich. "Mmm…. It has been a long time since I have your sandwich…."

Mary was glad Dean ate so profusely, but it also brought worry to her. She didn't like that Dean thought so low of himself, and it has been going on for so long. She couldn't shake that habit of his, and then about Dean's nightmare…

"You want to talk to me, Dean?" his mother asked with concern, and Dean hated that he made his mother so worried. But, he had to talk, or he will go insane in the nightmare he had been having. Even though he was a grown man, the nightmares were too realistic, too much for his mind, especially after the death of his father. Perhaps, after he talked about it, it would feel less real and he could finally think of it as a mere dream. Even when he was awake, the ghost of his nightmare kept haunting him, and he felt like going insane. He needed to say something about it, but it was such a bright day, perfect for mom's…

"Happy birthday, Mom," Dean said instead. Mary raised her eyebrows at her son's words, clearly not expecting the congratulatory right then.

"Thank you, Dean… I'm happy, but I thought you wanted to talk?"

Dean shook his head, "Not now, not when it's your birthday… Maybe later?"

Mary looked at her son, and she could see the sadness, the torment that his nightmare must've brought. Mary wanted her son to tell her now, so she could help him, to soothe him. Doesn't matter Dean was no longer a child; he was still Mary's child.

"No, mom… maybe tomorrow?" he asked after he saw his mother's frown, as if knowing that his mother would argue, but his mother didn't want to wait that long. She was too worried for her eldest, and Dean couldn't handle another night, too.

"After the dinner then, at least… Now, seeing you is enough," Dean said, smiling. The smile wasn't a happy smile, but a fake smile for assurance for his mother. Of course, Mary knew, but she didn't push it.

"Okay… But tonight, alright? If it got you to have those bags under your eye, it must have been bad… At least tell me what it was about?"

"No, Mom. Not the right time," Dean said instead. Mary looked at her son unsure, but Dean still insisted.

"Really, mom. It's okay. It can wait until tonight. Why don't I mow your lawn, huh? It's your birthday, and I see the lawn could use some mowing," he said and got up, smiling in reassurance. Mary didn't really wanted to let it go just like that, but Dean didn't want to talk about it just yet, so…

"You want to mow the lawn?"

"Hell yeah I want to mow the lawn," Dean answered with slight excitement, which Mary raised her eyebrows at. She then let out a sigh and gave up.

"Knock yourself out."

When Dean was done mowing and was appreciating the taste of beer after the work, he noticed a car coming and stopping just outside the yard, and he noticed the girl that came out from it.

'Jessica,' he thought, and he knew Sam has arrived.

His relationship with Sam could only be described by the word 'cold'. They don't get along, at all. They have nothing in common, and added to that, neither of them really tried to find anything. Despite him doing the best he could as a big brother, Dean never showed how much he actually cared about his little brother. Perhaps ever since he knew about his own jealousy, he could only protect him from behind the scenes (but, of course, he was often misunderstood. He was the bad brother; he could never do anything good). When he finally stopped avoiding Sam, wanting Sam and him to get along, the rift between them was already too wide.

"Hey," he greeted. It was then Sam took notice of him as he took out the luggage from the trunk. As he got closer, he took notice of the ring that adorned the finger on Jessica's left hand. He suspected and almost ninety-percent sure that it was an engagement ring, and he wanted to scream his congratulatory right then and there, neighbors be damned. But, he couldn't.

"Uh… Hi, Dean," Jessica replied, as to not being rude, although she was a bit unsure on how to proceed. It felt like she should hug him, but then again she didn't really know Dean all that well, despite being her lover's brother. And Dean himself doesn't seem to be the touchy-feely type.

"Hey," Sam replied hesitatingly as he took down the luggage and closed the trunk. "Jess, come on. We should greet my mom now," he said then, opting to just ignore Dean. Jess looked unsure, but she just glanced at Dean before she followed her soon-to-be husband's words to go inside the house. Sam followed a few steps behind her with the luggage.

"Want help with those?" Dean asked, but Sam shook his head.

"No, thanks. I can handle it," Sam said, which Dean just 'hmm'-ed in response. Dean then decided to go inside the house too, walking a few step faster so he would be in front of Sam.

"Congratulation on the engagement, by the way," Dean said when he passed Sam, and he didn't stop to hear Sam spluttering in surprise and almost dropped the luggage.

"W-Wait, Dean! How did you—"

The question was cut before Sam could finish his sentence. The sound of music, rock music, rang loudly from Dean's jeans pocket. Sam guessed it was Dean's ringtone, and Sam had to drop his question and leave Dean to his privacy. He would wait, but then again he was still holding the luggage.

"Luke? What is it?" was all Sam heard before he got into the house and let the door drowned his brother's voice.

Sam was a bit disappointed he didn't see his brother's expression in the midst of his surprise.

Mary was so happy once she laid her eyes on her son's girlfriend, Jessica. She greeted her with a warm hug, and soon she noticed her youngest son came from the door, bringing the luggage with him.

"Sam!" she hugged him with happiness and warmth, and he hugged her back because he also missed her. "Mom."

"Come in! I just made lunch!" Mary said as she led them both to the kitchen. Jess went first and Sam went to put the luggage to his old room before he joined them both at the table. He lingered around for a bit in his room breathing the scent that just screamed 'home'. How he truly missed the home he had grew up in, his mother, even the warm atmosphere that seemed to air around the house, though he couldn't really say the same about Dean.

…How did he know about the engagement, anyway?

When he arrived back to where his mom and Jess are, both of them already chatted so happily. Truly, Jess was similar with mom in most ways, from their love for cooking to their habit of talking and chatting about trivial things. Although, Sam must say, Jess was more of a chatterbox than his mother, who was also good at listening, which was mostly inherited by Sam.

"Ah, you're finally here!" his mother said once he made his presence known. Even though his mind noticed that his brother hasn't joined them, he didn't dwell on it.

It was when they were eating that Dean came.

"I have to go now, mom… Luke needed me for something. I'll see you tonight?" Dean said, with a smile that far too bright. Sam noticed the way his mother frowned as she stood up and went to her eldest.

"Dean… What's wrong?" Her hand went to rub the cheek of her eldest, a gesture meant to comfort and soothe the wounded, the injured. Sam thought the gesture was so out of place in such casual goodbye. He wondered why his mother was so concerned.

Dean's eyes softened, an expression Sam so rarely saw, almost never that every time he saw it he always thought of a stranger, not the brother he had interacted with in all of his earlier years. The hand that gently wrapped around the smaller wrist of their mother was also alien to him, so unusual and a side of Dean he never did notice.

"I'm okay… It's your birthday, so you shouldn't worry about me. I'm okay." Even the voice his brother used was so gentle and soft, he felt like hearing the words from another person. He never saw his brother like this, so gentle, so soft (or perhaps, he really just never noticed. He was too focused in his studies, too attentive of others' words that he felt all he heard and seen was all he needed to know about Dean without needing to really look).

Mary, ever so understanding, just looked at her son sadly before she nodded and smiled.

"Very well. I'll see you tonight, Dean. And you better not be late!"

"One for my master; One for my Dame"

The dinner was perfect, was what Dean thought as he saw all his family rounded around the circular table the restaurant had provided. He saw his mother laughing with happiness, Sam in his excitement of his engagement, Jessica with her laugh and joy that seemed to brighten the air, and Carmen—his lovely Carmen—with her smile towards him that always screamed 'I'm here, I'm not leaving', a smile full of understanding and compassion, who knew him the most after his parents.

If his father was here, he would probably laugh that laugh of his and congratulate Sam on his engagement with a pat on the back, then he would silently ask Dean later 'When's yours?' with a teasing smirk. His mother then would laugh again and Carmen would blush as he would say 'Soon, Dad', with his own smirk and attitude.

But, he died, before he could even see his second son got engaged. Before he could see his first son makes a family of his own.

So, Dean let his mask slip back on. The grief of losing his father was too great as time passed on. He couldn't get over it, despite whatever he said. A smile too wide, too blinding, yet didn't reach his eyes.

"Are you alright?" Carmen whispered to him when everyone was eating, chatting, congratulating Sam, when everyone's attention was on both Jessica and Sam.

"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be? Mom's happy, Sam's getting married; we have expensive food on our plates…" Dean said, smirking. But Carmen knew him. Her hands soon found their way to Dean's cheeks.

"Then why do you look so sad?"

Dean was silent, but Carmen could read the pleading that his eyes tried to convey. His green orbs, the color of forest and the soothing wind, which would turn to hazel in certain light, the color of earth and the warmth of nature. His eyes were the most expressive eyes, yet heavily guarded, Carmen had ever stumbled upon.

Carmen smiled that understanding smile, before she pulled her hands back from Dean's cheek. Her eyes showed her sadness, but her posture firm. Her answer to her beloved for his pleads.

"Okay," she said. I'm here, whenever you need me, was unspoken, but Dean seemed to understand, as he nodded and pecked her on her lips.

I know.

Mary noticed that Dean must be thinking how his father could not be here in this celebration, where his youngest son would soon marry and John would have a grandchild following. A happy moment, worthy to be ingrained in her memory forever, like when Dean first words and Sam's first step, which surely brought happiness and pride to John once more.

Mary herself felt sad—John was, and is, her beloved one. She felt grief, and she felt like crying every night, but again Dean—her first son—helped her to get her through it, forgetting his own pain.

She was his mother, so how could she let her son to cheer her up? She was supposed to be strong for her children, for Dean and for Sam.

But somehow Dean always knew what to say to soothe her, to let her know he was still there for her.

Few weeks after the funeral and Sam went back to California, Mary had broken down in the house that felt so empty without the voice, the grunting, of her beloved. The house that held so many memories of him, of John, everywhere she went. She cried and cried, and she could never feel lonelier.

But then, a warm hand was on her shoulder, and she gasped as her muddled mind was hoping that John didn't die, that everything was a cruel prank John had devised to surprise her.

Dean was there, his face unreadable as he closed in on her and hugged her, to let her know he was there for her.

"Dad loves you, very much," Dean had said. "He especially loves your smile. He said they're always brighter than the sun. Corny, I know. But he said it was the truth."

Mary listened between her sobbing, and she heard a quiet laugh and the broad chest she leaned in rumbled. When did he grown so much?

"Dad was always corny when it came to you, I couldn't believe he was once in the marine. I had to hold my laugh whenever he became so caught up in his own mind about you and began fairy-taling. I guess that showed how much he loves you."

Mary noticed that Dean didn't use the word 'loved'.

"He said that when you cry, his world felt like grey clouds hovered over. When you smile, it felt like his world brightened and there was nothing better he would like to see. When you laugh, however, he felt like the happiest man in the world."

Mary sniffled and half snorted, and she could feel another round of tears was about to break out.

"You're right. It is corny," she said, albeit shakily.

"He also said that more than hating seeing you cry, he hated making you cry even more. It hurts him, than anything else, and only your brightest smile could erase the pain."

Mary was quivering as Dean talked. She didn't want him to continue, because she was mad at John for leaving her, for dying. It was irrational, she knew, but that was how she felt. But she still loves him, and she didn't want him to see her break down because of him like this—because like Dean said, it hurt him. But—

"That's why you should cry," Dean said, surprising her. "Cry as loud as you can, because he deserved it for leaving you. He deserved to know that you cried because of him."

The next sentence he said was what that broke her dam.

"Cry and hurt him, until everything washed out and you can smile from the bottom of your heart. When you do, I'm sure then he will be at peace. So cry as much as you want, until you can't cry. Then remember every precious memory you have of him and smile, because you still love him and he will always love you."

Mary had never cried that hard since she was little, and Dean kept holding her until her tears subsided. It was because of that she could move on and smile whenever she hear John's favorite song playing, or when she unconsciously bought John's favorite terrible-tasted snack to have no one eating it but herself. She felt sad, but she could still move on.

She will cry some nights when it felt unbearable, but she would smile her brightest afterwards for days. Not forced, but truly smile John loved—loves, so much.

He only realized that Dean couldn't move on only later afterwards, and she never felt worse before. She tried, but the walls he created were too tall, too sturdy, for her to penetrate. She didn't even realize the walls before then. She knew that Dean always kept to himself, and he was much nicer and kinder than people made him to be. But, what she thought was a wooden fence, was actually a double brick wall—a fortress that could not be passed, even by her.

And now, as she watched his interaction with Carmen, neither could she.

Even in the midst of the excitement, Sam noticed the conversation held between his brother and her lover in front of him across the circular table. Carmen's expression that showed her concern, her words that was too quiet, meant for Dean's ears only. Followed by his brother's smirk, the smirk he was too used of seeing in his childhood. Then, Carmen's hands met the cheek of his brother, not unlike how his mother had done earlier that day, and once again Sam saw another expression of Dean that he had never seen. His smirk was still in place, but his expression unreadable, his lips tight. But, Carmen seemed to understand, as she pulled her hands away slowly and straighten her back, posture firm.

"Okay," Sam heard her say in another small voice, but it was spoken with strength that Sam could hear her. Then Dean leaned in and kissed her, only a peck—when Sam had thought he was going to make out with her (because that was more like him, like Dean).

Confusion and curiosity ate him up from the inside. As the dinner went on and time kept ticking on, he stole glances at the brother that becoming more and more like a stranger.

Even when the dinner ends, he couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of wanting to know more.

"It's beautiful, Jess," he heard Carmen said from somewhere behind him. Now that the dinner is done, they were waiting for Dean to come with the car. The road was empty and nothing to see from their position on the sidewalk as they wait. The girls spend their time with chatting and talking about the engagement, which still brought smile to Sam's face.

He's going to marry Jess, and will have a family of his own. With a rugrat or two, surely it will be a happy one like his.

Sam kept watching the girls chattering, with his mind still imagining the family that he's going to have, becoming a father that his own had been. His musing was interrupted however, when a boy accidently knocked over them in his haste to reach home.

"Hey, be careful!" Sam yelled to the disappearing back of the boy, to have the boy glancing back, yet not stopping. "Sorry!" the boy said, before he disappeared behind the corner of the road.

"Ah! The ring!" he heard Jess exclaimed, and Sam turned back to see the engagement ring that he had given Jess rolled away to the middle of the empty road. At the same time, he could see their car pulling over, with Dean inside.

"You all just get to the car. I'll take the ring," Sam said, smiling. He saw Jess apologetic frown, and Sam just had to soothe her. "It's okay, Jess. It was an accident."

So he went to the middle of the road and was about to take the ring when there was a sudden, blinding light, followed by a yell from someone, before he felt something hard pushed him and something hit him.

"One for the little Boy; That lives down the lane."

~To Be Continued~

Sapphire09: First of all, I should probably introduce myself. I'm Sapphire09, and I'm a new writer in this fandom. I usually write in anime/manga section. This is my very, very first attempt in making a Supernatural fanfic, so I apologize if Dean (or/and Sam) was too OOC for your liking, and for the faults in grammar. English isn't actually my first language, and I am trying my best to improve.

I'm trying to write them as in character as I can, and I have my reason in writing the way they are in this story, which I will eventually tell in future chapters. I will warn you first, though : Supernatural Being will still exist in this story, as well as hunters.

This story taken place in the world that Djinn showed Dean in Season 2, What is and What Should Never Be (but you probably already know that). The relationship between Sam and Dean here is like strangers, totally the opposite of the show. But Dean is still the awesome big brother, and Sam is still his rational self.

About the nursery rhyme, you will see more in the future. How the rhymes connected to the story, it's up to you to make the lines. If you decided that the rhymes are there just as scene change, then it's up to you too. :)

Anyway, your reviews will be very much appreciated, and constructive criticism will help making this story better.