A/N: As promised, here is my one shot of Dean's feelings about Sam. Obviously this is in Dean's POV.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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All I Have
'Watch out for your little brother, boy!'
I hear those words in my head over and over; like he even needed to tell me. Ever since I pulled Sammy from that fire, it was my job, my responsibility to watch out for Sam and make sure he's okay. No one really told me to do it, I just did. He was the only thing that mattered, and as long as he was safe nothing else mattered. He never made my job easy.
Since he was little he kept following me around, asking me questions.
"Where's Dad?"
"How come we don't have a mom?"
"Why do we move all the time?"
He'd keep asking me, and I'd keep telling him to quit asking questions. He'd pout for what seemed like hours, but he'd still follow me.
I remember the first time he screamed at a McDonald's commercial. He saw Ronald McDonald and he instantly screamed, and I had run into the room, fearing there was a spirit. I nearly busted out laughing when I found out it was just a clown. But I didn't. He was four, and he was crying and I took him in my arms and I told him that I wouldn't let the clown get him.
He's all I have. Dad's gone, and so is Mom. He's a grown man, but deep down he's still my geek boy of a brother.
I stay up at night worrying about him. He's headed down a dangerous road, and I have to keep Ruby from tainting him. I have to keep him safe because that's my job and I'm not screwing that up again. I couldn't lose him the first time, how could I even manage losing him a second time?
"Sam! Oh Sam, Sam! Hey! Hey! Hey, come here, let me look at'cha."
I pressed my hand to his bloodied jacket, and lifted it, not seeing much blood. I pushed him up so I could talk to him.
"Look, it's not even that bad, it's not even that bad, alright? Sammy? Sam! Hey, listen to me, we're gonna patch'cha up, okay? You'll be good as new, huh. I'm gonna take care of you, I'm a take care of you, I got'cha, huh. That's my job right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Sam? Sam?! Sammy?!"
So many thoughts were racing in my head, I couldn't remember them all if I tried. I do remember the denial I was in as I held him, trying to force him to awake from his eternal slumber.
But then it hit me. He wasn't waking up.
"No…No,no,no,no,no. Oh God! Oh God!"
I whispered into his shoulder as I held him there, realization hitting me and sinking into my gut, making me feel wretchedly guilty.
"SAM!"
I remember feeling dark, and empty, and numb. Without Sam, there was nothing. There was no life, and I would have been better off if it were me that had died instead. My life meant nothing. He was gone. I had failed my one job. It was bad enough that I failed Dad, but failing Sammy? That wasn't something I could do. I had to save him, I couldn't let him die.
So I saved him. I was made whole again and my life had meaning once more. He's all I have.
