John took Dean on his first hunt during Christmas break before he turned nine. He was hunting something that Dean couldn't remember the name of but John said he needed Dean's help and Dean was getting better at shooting the cans off the back fence every time Dad let him. There were no words for how excited Dean was to be asked to come along. John dropped Sammy off at a friend's in Colorado, Daniel, Dean thought he name was. Then John and Dean set off together in the Impala, heading east. Dean spent most of the time looking out the window, fire helmet pressed up against the window, watching the world fly by while classic rock station after classic rock station tuned in and out on the stereo. John wasn't much of a talker, and Dean always felt like he was bothering his Dad if he asked him too many questions, so they fell into a comfortable silence that neither seemed to mind.
"Are you doing better in school?" John asked along a long empty stretch or Midwest.
"Not really," Dean shrugged. "I'm trying, and I told my new teacher about what Mrs. Bergeron in Maryland said about me having the Dyslexia, but I don't want to be annoying so I just do what I can. I'm not doing bad at school though. I have C's."
"As long as you're doing you best," John nodded. "What about Sam?"
"Sammy doesn't like this school as much as the old school," Dean explained. "I think he just misses his friend Mandy. But he'll make new friends. He's a good kid. He'll get over it. He's really smart. The other kids will like him."
"Well," John said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to turn to Dean, "You did a good job teaching him to read. I'm very proud of you for helping."
Dean smiled to himself. Nothing made him happier than hearing his Dad was proud.
"I got another question for ya, buddy," John continued. "Don't ya think it's time that you stopped wearing that helmet? Getting a little small for ya."
"I like it," Dean said defensively. "The jacket got too small so I stopped wearing it, but I don't want to stop wearing the helmet. I still want to be a fireman someday."
"I get that, Sport," John said. "But don't the other kids at school say things about it? I know you don't like when the kids make fun you."
"No one says anything about it," Dean answered. "I don't wear it at school much anymore. I wouldn't feel like me if I didn't have it, you know. Like you wouldn't look like Dad without your jacket, and how Uncle Bobby looks weird without his hat."
John sighed, falling back into that comfortable silence.
When they crossed into Nebraska, John started to quiz Dean on what was going to happen when they got there.
"You remember what I told you?"
"I'm supposed to go to a tree that you show me when it gets dark and pretend that I'm lost," Dean said. "Then I wait for the thingy to come and try to eat me and I yell. Then you get me."
"Very good." John said.
"And if the thingy gets too close, then I get to use the gun that you gave me," Dean smiled. "But only if I don't hear you coming for me and it gets really, really close."
"What else?"
"Don't close my eyes," Dean said. "No matter what. No matter how scared I get, never ever close my eyes. Make sure I keep watch. That's the most important job I have this weekend."
"I think you got it," John said, swelling with pride in his little boy. He knew he wasn't doing exactly what Mary would want, she'd never want this life for her boys, but he was doing everything he could without them. Dean was growing up just fine. He was going to make his Dad real proud one day.
The woods were a lot darker than Dean thought they would be. It wasn't that Dean was afraid of the dark, he was almost nine, being afraid of the dark was for babies like Sam. It just was really creepy in the woods at night, and Dad said he couldn't have flashlight because it was too dangerous. He wasn't really sure he was supposed see the stupid swamp thing in the dark in the woods, but he wanted to make his dad proud. That was the most important.
Dean tried to watch from all angles, not sure where the thing, the swamp monster, whatever his dad had called it was coming from. He leaned up against the predetermined tree, and waited.
"Dad?" He called out into the darkness just like they planned. "Where are you?"
Dean knew that John was just a couple hundred yards away, well within earshot, but he didn't answer, all a part of the plan. Dean took a deep breath, slowly out his nose and then he saw it.
It was huge, taller than anything he'd ever seen, way taller than his dad. I was covered with scales and seaweed like looking stuff and smelled worse than when Dean forgot to bring the trash to the curb in Texas over the summer.
"Dad!" Dean yelled. "Dad, I'm really scared." This was supposed to be part of the plan, but sweet lord was he terrified. In that moment, waiting to see the eyes of the monster so he could yell the code word, he decided that Sammy would never, ever know about what their dad did for work. Sam was never going to be part of this. He would never be this scared. Sammy didn't have to do anything like this to make Dean be proud of him. Dean would be proud of Sam no matter what he did. He'd never, ever be in the dark woods watching a horrible monster approach him. Sam was going to get the childhood Dean never got, if it killed him.
"Dad!" Dean called out again. "Is that you?"
Dean took a step toward the creature, showing his Dad where it was in case he couldn't see.
"Dad, I need you, I'm scared!"
The creature took a step closer to Dean. He could feel the hot breathe of it on his face, see it's yellow teeth right before he saw the blast of the shotgun.
Dean was still shaking when John patted him on the back.
"Good job kidd-o," Dean could hear the smile in his dad's voice. "Real good job."
They walked back to the car, John's hand never leaving Dean's back. Dean imagined the smile on his father's face, that same smile he had the first time they went shooting. Dean would gladly stand in the dark for hours walking for something to get close enough to eat him every day if it meant he could make his dad smile like that.
Dean smiled like that at Sammy all the time. He needed to make sure that Sammy never felt unloved or not good enough. He was gonna give Sammy everything. Everything he wanted his dad to give to him. No matter what. He'd move heaven and earth for that kid. Somehow he felt like that would be what their mom wanted; for her boys to be best friends, for Dean to take care of Sammy. He was gonna make her proud too. Her up in heaven and Daddy right there next to him. Dean was gonna make both of them real proud.
When they got back, John took the boys to Bobby's for Christmas. It had been a while since they'd seen him, and it just felt right spending the holidays with Bobby before finding a new place to enroll the boys in school. Dean secretly hoped that they'd get to stay in Sioux Falls for a while, so he'd get to see Miss Sherry again. But he doubted his Dad would let them.
During that week off, Bobby and John found a simple hunt to do not too far off, a two man job, but easily a one day job, so they left Dean in charge to make sure nothing happened to Sammy while they were gone.
"You hide and I seek you!" Sam explained excitedly, like Dean had never played hide and seek before. "You gots to hide really really good, a cuz the person that hides the best wins. I count." Sam nodded and covered his eyes with his hands and started to count. Dean wasn't sure how high Sam could count so he took off, hiding in Bobby's coat closet underneath a bunch of stuff on the floor.
After a couple minutes Sammy went running by "I seek!" He called in the echoing house. "Deans! You hided too good."
Dean giggled to himself, as he watched Sam go by a few times through a crack in the door.
"Deans?" Sam called. "Deans!?" Sam's voice started to sound scared. "Deans, I don't like this game no more."
Dean pushed the door open a little more so that maybe Sammy would figure it out.
"Dean?" Sam walked by the closet again, and then went upstairs. "Deans!?"
Dean rolled his eyes.
"I'm down stairs Sammy," Dean called from the closet. "You can find me, I'm sure of it."
Dean heard Sam pad down the stairs again. The closet was almost completely open now. So Sam finally figured it out.
"I seeked!" Sam yelled jumping onto Dean. "I seeked you! I win!"
"You only win if you hide better than I did." Dean said. "That's what you said the rules were."
"You hided really good," Sam said. "I think we should just say I win. I change rules."
Dean laughed. "You can't just change the rules in the middle. I bet you can hide better than me."
"You find me really fast and I lose," Sam said pouting. "I wanna win."
"Then hide really good," Dean said. "I'm goin' to the kitchen to count. You hide, okay."
"Okay!" Sam yelled turning and running up the stairs.
Dean knew exactly where Sam was going to hide, in John's room in his duffle bag. Sam was the perfect size to fit inside it. He climbed in there all time for no reason. He slept in there sometimes when they were in motels, with a pillow stuffed in first, then he wrapped himself around it. He usually did it when Dean told him Sam couldn't sleep in his bed at night. He was a weird little kid, but whatever made him happy. Dean decided that he'd wait a while before going to find Sam so he'd win. It was the big brotherly thing to do, so he laid on Bobby's moth eaten couch and turned on the TV. There was an episode of Star Trek on that he hadn't seen before, so he watched it, and feel asleep about halfway through.
He woke up a short time later to Sam crying and poking him.
"Dean is you dead?" Sam voice quivered. "Is you dead like that squirrel that Daddy hit with the car in the road that time? Dean? Don't be dead. Dean?"
Dean blinked a few times and turned to his terrified brother.
"Sorry Sam," he said stretching sleep out of his limbs. "I fell asleep."
"You didn't find me," Sam said, tears still flowing down his face. "You never finded me."
"That means you won, right?"
"Did you even look?" Sam said voice broken and quivering still.
"Of course I did."
"I don't think you did," Sam accused. "I think you left me to be hided forever. You never looked for me."
"Sammy," Dean said, sitting up and looking his little brother right in the face, taking one hand and wiping the tears away. "I wanted you to win. So I started to watch my show and I guess I fell asleep. I didn't not look for you. I wouldn't just leave you somewhere."
"But you did!" Sam yelled. "You leaved me."
Dean sighed. "Not on purpose. I knew where you were. You were upstairs in Dad's duffle. Right? I would have found in ten seconds. So I wanted to wait. I would have come got you in a little bit."
"You leaved me there for hours!" Sam said.
Dean looked at the clock; he was asleep for about twenty minutes. Star Trek wasn't even over yet.
"I'm sorry Sam," Dean said seriously. "I won't do it again."
"You always has to find me!" Sam said forcefully. "You always come get me. I don't want to think you be dead again."
"What do you know about being dead Sammy?"
"Daddy explained it," Sam nodded. "After he hitted that squirrel in the car that time. I telled him he had to go get it out off the road and he said it was dead. And dead means that you don't breathe anymore and you is hurted really bad and you go to heaven. Right? You said that Mommy, the lady that watches us sleep sometimes, was in heaven. Does that mean she's dead?"
Dean nodded.
"Did Daddy hit her with the car too?"
"No Sammy," Dean said softly. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"It makes you sad?" Sam asked; Dean nodded. "Know what makes Sam sad? When Dean doesn't come seeked him."
Dean rolled his eyes. How did a four year old get so good at making people feel bad?
"Sometimes at my school, the other kids talk about their Mommy's and I doesn't know anything about her, except that she watches me sleep sometimes. And only I can see her. But my teacher says that's a lie and I shouldn't telled people that. But I knows it's not a lie, because Daddy say-ed that I should never lie and I telled her that, but she didn't believe me. But I keeped telling her anyways. And then the kids at school thinked that I telled stories. But some of them like my stories. But they not stories they real life. But my teacher always telled me that I shouldn't tell people that my Mommy in heaven watches me sleep."
"You wanna know about Mom, Sam?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded with his whole body, like he did every time he was excited. "Tell me everything."
"I don't know much," Dean said pulling Sam up onto his lap. "I was your age when she went away."
"Okay," Sam said.
"She was really pretty," Dean said. "And she smelled really good, like cookies."
"Like Uncle Bobby's cookies or Daddy's cookies?" Sam asked, because there was a big difference.
"Better than Uncle Bobby's cookies."
"Whoa," Sam said, impressed.
"Yeah," Dean chuckled. "She made me lunch a lot; cut the crusts of my sandwiches cuz she knew I didn't like them. And she sang to me when I had a bad dream, and she had special soup that she made when I was sick. She tucked me into bed at night and she taught me how to read and stuff when Dad was at work."
"You does all that stuff," Sam said. "Does that make you a mom?"
"No, Sammy," Dean said. "Moms are girls."
"But," Sam protested. "All the things you said. You does them for me. Yous give me the special soup with the fishies in it when I has a tummy ache, and you tucked me in to sleep and you singed when I is scared. And you cut the crusts off my sandwiches. And yous take care of me when Daddy's at work. I won't be the smartest kid in school if you didn't teached me writing and numbers. Yous my mom. So I tells my teacher I has a mom now?"
"I'm not your mom, Sammy," Dean sighed. "Don't tell people that."
"Okay," Sam said squirming a little on Dean's lap. "Can I knows more about her?"
"I remember when mom and dad brought you home from the hospital that she was really happy. And that she loved us a lot, like more than anything. She used to talk about how cute you were when you were a baby to the lady across the street. I didn't think you were cute. I thought you were weird looking. I still think you're weird looking. But I bet Mom would still think you're cute. I tried to trade you for a Transformer but Mom and Dad caught me trying to take you out of the crib and yelled at me."
"She sounds nice," Sam said thoughtfully. "I thinked I would like her a lot."
"Yeah," Dean answered. "I know you would. She was the best."
"Why did she go to heaven?" Sam asked. "Daddy said that the squirrel went to heaven because the car breaked all his bones."
"That didn't happen to Mom," Dean said quickly. "Nothing like that. That's a story for when you're a lot bigger."
"But you said you was as big as me when you knowed it," Sam protested.
"Yeah, Buddy," Dean answered. "But I don't want to know it. I would give anything not to know it. Maybe you can ask Dad in a couple years."
"I wanna know now," Sam said. "I's not a baby, Dean. I can knows things. I knows how light bulb works, Uncle Bobby telled me. He say-ed that when the sun goes to sleep it goes into the lights and that's why we can't have the lights on in the day. And I knowed how come you has to sleep, cuz it charge people batteries. Pastor Jim teached me about how the fridgerator light works. He says there is a gnome inside and it shuts off the light when you shut the door. I can knows about Mommy."
"Not this Sammy," Dean said. "You know everything I know except that, okay?"
"I guess," Sam huffed. "If I hided again will you look for me?"
"Yes," Dean said, and Sam slid off his lap, boney elbow digging into his calf.
"Don't forget this time," Sam said, running off.
Dean took a deep breath. Sam was never going to stop asking questions. He wanted to know everything. He asked questions about everything. Dean knew there would come a point where he didn't know the answers anymore. But if he could keep Sam from knowing what happened to mom, keep him away from monsters and evil for as long as possible, he was doing a good job. He'd be making his Mom proud, keeping Sammy safe. He was doing his best. Maybe he was a little bit like Sammy's mom, close enough anyway. Dean would be the best that Sam had. Hopefully that was good enough. Hopefully Sammy would understand that he did everything he could to make sure he was normal.
Dean looked around the room then got up to find Sam, who was probably back in the duffle bag trying to be clever.
Dean realized that he and Sammy didn't have the most regular relationship in the spectrum of brotherhood one afternoon when Sammy came running back into the house screaming with tears rolling down his face while Dean and their Dad sat at the kitchen table cleaning guns.
"Deans!" Sam yelled running into the kitchen. "Deans I need you!"
"What happened Sam?" Dean asked leaning out of the chair.
"I falled," Sam cried, voice shaking. "I cutted my knee on a rock. I bleeding."
"What were you doing outside?" John sighed. "You're not supposed to go outside by yourself."
"Are you okay?" Dean said, pulling Sam into a hug.
"No," Sam cried into Dean's shirt. "It hurts the most of anything ever. You gots to fix it, Deans."
"You wouldn't have gotten hurt if you listened and played inside like I told you," John said angrily.
"Come here," Dean said, taking Sam's hand and pulling him into the living room and placing him on the sofa. "I'll be right back."
"Hurry!" Sam said, tears still flowing down his face as he clutched his knee, which was barely bleeding.
Dean remembered when he was little and cut his leg, how he would run to their dad to try to fix it like Sam was now. Maybe Dean was to Sam what Dad would always be to Dean. Sam was his job after all. He got to take care of him no matter what. Dean found the band aids and anti-bacteria wipes in his Dad's first aid kit under the sink in the bathroom and came back to living room where Sam had started to calm down but was still silently crying.
"This is gonna hurt a little," Dean said ripping open the cleaner. "But I gotta clean it or it will get infected and your leg will fall off."
Sam looked at Dean in horror.
"It's gonna hurt more? It already hurt the most of anything!"
"It will only be for a second," Dean promised wiping the cleaning pad across his brother's leg quickly.
Sam winced and tried to pull away as Dean held his leg still.
"Now it's over," Dean said. "Okay, Sammy, I'll put a band aid on it and you'll be good as new." Dean pressed the band aid over the tiny cut on his brother's leg and tapped him twice. "All better."
"Deans?" Sam whispered. "Did you ever cut your leg when Mommy was here?"
Dean nodded.
"What did she do?" Sam asked voice still small like he didn't want their father in the next room to hear.
"She'd kiss it and make it better," Dean answered. "Because Mom kisses fix everything."
"So is my knee gonna be broked forever?" Sam asked.
"No Sammy," Dean smiled rubbing his hand through Sam's hair. "It will get better."
"But," Sam pouted.
Dean pressed his lips against the band aid on Sam's knee.
"All better," Dean smiled. "It's all better, it will heal up real good now."
Sam nodded and whipped the remaining tears off his face. "You're sure?"
"Yep."
"Even with no mommy kisses?" Sammy cried.
"Brother kisses are better," Dean said. "Now go wash your face," Dean instructed, patting Sam on the leg as he stood up.
Sam scurried off toward the bathroom. "Thanks Deans!" he called behind him before slamming the door to the bathroom because he wasn't quite tall enough to not slam it yet.
Dean felt proud of himself as he went back to finish helping his Dad with the guns.
"You shouldn't baby him," John said.
"He is a baby," Dean answered, shrugging.
"He needs to learn on his own," John said. "He needs to learn to listen to me when I give instructions. If he didn't go outside when I told him not to he wouldn't have gotten hurt."
Dean shrugged again.
"He's five," Dean said.
"Maybe you should tell him to listen to me," John said. "He listens to you."
"Only sometimes," Dean said, taking a gun from his dad and wiping it down like he was taught.
John sighed; clearly he was never going to through to Dean, Sam was that boys blind spot.
