For as long as Sam can remember, and even before then, Dean has been carrying him. In a sense that had always been both literal and figurative, Sam has always counted on Dean being by his side for every illness, for every injury, and for every kind of hurt you could possibly imagine. Dean was the one who comforted him when his first crush didn't turn out so well. Dean was the one who stitched all of his cuts and bandaged all of his wounds. Dean was the one who taught him how to be independent, the one who taught him how to tie his shoes and how to ride a crappy bike and how to write his letters in a horrible scrawl that turned out to be barely legible. Even when Sam was away at Stanford, living his own life and finding his way in the world, he knew he could always fall back on Dean if he needed to.
Dean's always been there. No matter what. But now, Sam is afraid that he won't be able to return the favor.
I.
Though Sam couldn't remember it, for he was just a tiny child of six months, Dean's long crusade of carrying Sammy started with their burning house and dying mother.
Of course, Dean had held his younger brother many times before that fateful night. Their mother had absolutely loved teaching Dean how to properly cradle Sammy's head, how to hold his body gently without a risk of dropping the baby. Dean had taken to this task with a fierce determination that made his parents swell with pride. In the mornings, when he found his tired mother sitting in her wooden rocking chair, the baby held carefully in her arms, Dean would strive to impress his parents. He would march up to his mother's chair and stand firmly with his arms held outward, flannel pajamas slipping loosely over his skin and palms pointing steadily at the ceiling. His mother would smile, her tired eyes crinkling joyfully at the edges as she passed Sammy over to Dean and watched carefully as the baby settled happily in his folded arms. Thankfully, Sammy never seemed to mind the transition to his brother's arms, his only response being a content gurgle rather than a sharp cry of despair.
But this time, carrying Sammy from the destruction of their life was a very different task. Before, holding Sammy was a simple pleasure that pleased his parents and allowed Dean to satisfy his curiosity over the existence of his younger brother. Now, cradling his brother's tiny form is a responsibility, a duty that could mean the difference between life and death. If Dean were to stumble, if Dean ended up dropping Sammy while running precariously down the stairs and out onto the damp lawn, Dean would have failed. He would have failed his mother, a kind woman who loved him and Sammy dearly. He would have failed his father, a man who adored both him and his brother with a ferocity that sometimes surprised Dean. Most importantly of all, Dean would have failed Sammy, and Dean's just starting to realize how important and special Sammy must be.
It's in this moment that Dean begins to learn, even if he doesn't understand that these fleeting thoughts of protecting his brother are quickly transforming into sturdy instincts that will remain for the rest of his life. Here, Dean begins to learn that the most important thing is to keep Sammy safe, because Mary cherished him and John cherished him and Dean realizes that maybe he cherishes him, too.
His father has soon scooped him off of his feet, carrying them both in a sprint across the lawn that takes them away from any chance at normalcy. Soon, the sirens are screaming outside of the house and water is being sprayed pointlessly at the shattered windows. Soon, the neighbors are crowding outside on the street, whispering amongst themselves as they acknowledge this tragedy with a detachedness that will lead them back to their daily routines by the morning. Soon, the crowds will fade but still, John will sit on the hood of his car, Sammy now in his hands as Dean sits silently beside them. Soon, Dean will try to forget the feeling of the scorching fire by his face, Dean will try to forget the fact that once upon a time, he could have lived a life of safety and security. But still, Dean will never what it meant when he held Sammy in his arms. He will never forget the importance of his brother.
Days pass and Dean finds himself in a strange room, a place with beds and windows and painted walls that will never be a substitute for the house that he had grown in and loved. Here, Dean stops asking when his mom will come home because he soon learns that this isn't home and his mom certainly isn't coming back. His dad spends these days drifting in strange state that exists between utter sorrow and uncontrollable rage. He paces the floor, he sits on a creaky chair by a scratched table, and sometimes, he leaves for hours at a time with his two sons stewing in confusion on one of the beds.
At first, Dean chooses to wallow in his despair. He doesn't speak, he doesn't eat except for when his dad makes him, and he doesn't move from the spot he was originally planted in. His mom is never coming back, and this fact tears a hole in his heart that hurts every fiber of his being. No longer would she kiss his forehead when he was sick, no longer would she ruffle his hair or cut his sandwiches or sing him to sleep. A world without her seems impossible so, for a while, Dean refuses to exist in such a world.
Then, perhaps a week after his life ended, Dean hears Sammy wailing from his corner of the bed. Up until this moment, his dad had always been present in this unfamiliar room when Sammy started crying. His dad would solemnly feed Sammy and change his diapers and rock him mournfully until he fell asleep. While Dean tried to distance himself from reality, his dad made sure Sammy would still live.
But now, Dean and Sammy are alone in the room, their dad gone doing mysterious things. Dean wishes Sammy would stop crying, he wishes he would just stop because Dean wants to cry too but he's not sure if he has any more tears left. There's no one here to silence Sammy so Dean suffers with his brother for a few minutes before deciding he can't possibly stand the piercing screams anymore. His legs shaky and his will shakier, Dean rises and slowly shuffles his way to his brother's side.
It's been so long since he's seen his brother's face that it's almost a surprise to see the baby's pinched face, mouth open to cry and skin flushed a bright red from exertion. Dean almost finds it strange how intensely Sammy can scream. He never once thought that one human could possibly produce such noise.
Looking down at his struggling baby brother, Dean gets that protective and determined feeling he got while running for their lives across their old lawn. He realizes that while he had been feeling heartbroken and lost for the past few days, his brother had been feeling the same way. Suddenly, baby Sammy had been thrust into a scary world where his bed was weird and hard and the room smelled strange and his mother's warmth had been missing for what felt like years. And suddenly, Dean remembers that he can't fail Sammy, that he can't let Sammy down or he'll have failed everyone he loves.
Tentatively, Dean leans down and carefully scoops Sammy up in his arms, carrying his screaming brother and bouncing him in the way he had often seen his mother do. Dean tries to shush him, he really tries to rock his brother back into a realm of comfort that doesn't seem to exist anymore. His hands aren't shaking and Dean isn't afraid because he knows there is no way he would ever let his brother fall. .
Slowly, Sammy seems to calm down, his agonizing wails dimming down into pitiful cries. Dean frowns down at little Sammy, wishing he could find a way to will away his new responsibility's pain.
"Don't worry, Sammy," He coos, speaking for the first time in days. "It's okay."
Sammy begins to drift away to sleep, and Dean sits down on the bed so he care for his little brother.
After Dean enthusiastically accepts his new role as Sammy's caretaker, everything doesn't come quickly and easily.
The first time the four year old tries to change Sammy's diaper, it's a disaster. The entire time, Sammy cries and cries and Dean feels like crying because he had never thought that wiping a baby's bottom and wrapping it up again would be so difficult. He does it uncomfortably on the table, with nothing beneath Sammy as he tries to be as gentle as possible. In the end, the diaper ends up twisted and strapped on crookedly, but Dean is proud that he succeeded in completing his task. The next time John is in the room, he eyes the diaper wearily before changing Sammy again, completely aware of Dean watching intently from the opposite side of the room.
Dean learns how to feed Sammy. He learns how to burp him and comfort him and even learns that tickling his tummy makes him very happy. Slowly but surely, Dean learns what makes his brother's mind tick, and he learns how to keep his brother healthy.
When they start to move around again in the car, their dad's determined but stoic face leading the way, Dean still takes care of Sammy. While shopping, Dean makes sure a part of their meager funds are put towards Sammy's various needs. In their motel rooms, Dean checks over his baby brother's crib over and over again. He makes sure that baby food is always at the ready and he keeps the baby bottle full. When they are all alone, Dean plays peekaboo with Sammy and makes him hats out of newspaper.
Most importantly of all, when their dad is passed out on the other bed and Sammy still needs put to bed, Dean carries him. He holds him delicately in his arms and rocks him to sleep, humming that song their mom used to sing. Even after Sammy is deep asleep, Dean still carries him and rocks him and places him carefully in the crib.
After all of the fire and death and loneliness, Dean finds a purpose in keeping his brother safe. No matter the circumstance, no matter the cost, Dean learns he can never let that go.