I'm very late getting into this fandom and I am very sorry about that. With that being said, this is my first Supernatural fic and it's really not much, just how I felt Sam feels during seasons one and two.
Jobs and Brothers
Damn I hate my job. I mean seriously, how many men can say that they kill demons for a living? Or go road tripping cross country with their brother to save people they have never met before? Or get random visions that tell the future because a crazy ass demon with yellow eyes killed their mom when they were six months old and their girlfriend twenty-two years later? Or get so dammed scared of their lives that sometimes only the nightmares bring solace and peace? My nightmares are welcomed more often than not, when they are not about mom or Jessica burning, or about dad dying in front of my very eyes, or Dean… Dean. My brother is the only thing I have in this world that knows everything about me. He knows my secrets and my… abilities. My past and my present and heck, I wouldn't put it past him to know my future too, even without visions. He knows ME. He takes care of me and loves me, in his own twisted way, he really cares.
He is my everything.
Everything I have in this world, now, I have because of him. My life, I owe it to him. I would never tell him this to his face but, I owe him everything. He knows of course, he's much too arrogant to not know, but he is the best big brother anyone could ask for. He cares so much, and not just about me, but about dad, and mom and everybody that was somehow, someway, involved in this craziness we call our lives. He suffers, every day, burdened with this life, with… me. He would never call me a burden, he just doesn't see things that way. Family is everything to him and he would more than gladly lay down his own life if it meant I could live another day, much like I would for him. But he is different. He has been taking care of me since we were very young, always longing for a father to be there for him while he himself had to be a father to me. I will never understand the struggle, the pain. I'm sympathetic, he is my brother, but I could never understand in a deeper level, not that he would want me to.
He is still trying to keep me innocent and, and, clean. I personally believe it's too late for that, but he still had hope. He has more hope than anybody else I know or will ever meet. He doesn't like to admit it, hell, he doesn't like to admit anything that puts a dent in his tough guy façade. But I know better. I know him. I know how he cries some nights when he thinks I'm asleep. I pretend not to notice, but I know he's crying over dad. He loves that man. I love him too. And I miss him, but Dean, Dean is wrecked without him. Dean needs him, just like when we were little kids. Not like he ever needed our dad to take care of us in the conventional way, we've known how to fend for ourselves for longer than I care to remember. No, need him like a son needs a father. I often wonder how our lives would've been if dad had been around more often.
I know we would still be hunters, that's just a fact. But what if instead of going out hunting alone like he so often did he had taken us with him? We went with him a lot, but not on the hunts that mattered, not on the hunt. The one that nearly drove him mad and in the end claimed his life. He died for Dean, we know that, it drives Dean crazy, but it was that yellow-eyed demon. The same one that has made my life, our lives, as hunters as Winchesters, unbearable.
I hate my job. I hate my life and more often than not I hate my father. He knew so much and told us so little. It killed Dean and it pissed me off. He pissed me off. But now he's gone and all I have left in the world is my big brother.
I love Dean. I'll never not love him and care for him and I never, never will stop fighting with him. By him. For him. We are all we have and that's the way it should be.
I hate my job, but I have a brother that makes it all better. And that's good enough to keep going.
