Dean didn't like sleeping. He thought it somewhat ironic that Sammy slept as well as he did these past few weeks, and Dean was the one waking every night with a nightmare. This was Sam's thing, and not to say Dean's nightmares were anything like Sam's. They weren't, Dean dreamed of the past. Most of those dreams didn't scare him as much as the recent ones had. After he'd been released from the hospital, Dean's dreams were images of his body hooked up to machines, his father sitting at his bedside, Sam sitting on the floor with a Quigi board and more. The images floated through his head with strange sounds and feelings. He felt like something was wrong through the entire dream. He heard voices, Sam's, his dad's, the doctors' and then there was the unknown voice, a female voice. The dream always ended the same, the pretty girl turning towards him with glowing yellow eyes, telling him it was his lucky day and then putting her hand on his forehead. That's when he woke up, every time, in a sweat, panting and gasping for air in his bed.
So Dean was afraid to go to sleep. He didn't want to see the things he saw anymore; he didn't want to feel those feelings. He wanted to stay awake so he wouldn't have to face it. Sam didn't know that he spent nights awake in his room with nothing but a flashlight, a cup of coffee and his EMF meter, which he was smart enough to make so that it still functioned as a cassette player. If Sam knew, he'd be even more worried about him. So Dean blasted his music into headphones and stayed up for days on end. He drank gallons of coffee during the day to stay awake and every once in a while when the tiredness caught up with him he'd sleep and be tormented by his dreams.
Tonight was one of those nights. Even through the loud music and strong coffee, Dean could barely keep his eyes open. So he lay back on his bed, closed his eyes and let himself fall into sleep, awaiting the terrible dreams. But tonight they wouldn't come, tonight would be a different dream. Dean found himself standing in a dark field, with a clear sky and stars above. On the edges of the horizon Dean could see forest, but there was no sign of another human being for miles. Dean stood there and just looked around. He suddenly heard a voice that seemed to come from everywhere around him. It was his father's voice, and he remembered what he was saying. It was what his father had told him they day he had died.
"Dean, I need you to be strong, for both you and Sammy. You need to protect him, to stop him from becoming what the demon wants him to be. Keep him from going mad, never leave him, you can keep him safe better than I ever could. That's why I did this, that's why I gave up my life for yours, because I can't protect Sam, you can. I love you son."
All the feelings Dean had felt at the time came flooding back into him. He nearly cried from the sadness. One question pulled at his heart though. It had since that day and he needed it answered. He had no clue if there was anyone there to answer it, but he had to yell it out anyway. So he stood there in the middle of the field and screamed at the top of his lungs.
"WHY!"
There was the silence again, the quiet, calm, annoying silence. Dean had almost started to expect there wasn't going to be an answer, but then he saw someone walking towards him on the horizon. He ran towards the person but stopped when he saw that it was his father.
"Dad?" The words barely escaped his lips.
John stopped in front of him, he looked sad. Dean had barely ever seen his father look so sad in his life.
"I told you why son." He said softly.
"No, not good enough. You could have protected Sammy. You didn't need to give up your life to the demon to save mine." Dean protested.
"I could have protected Sammy physically, yes, but we both know he would have been destroyed mentally and emotionally. You are his support, he talked to you when he was younger, not me. You need to listen now, too. You need to let him open up to you and you need to open up to him. You've told him before that he couldn't keep everything bottled up, that it would kill him in the long run, well, the same goes for you."
Dean looked at his father, confused, and thought How does he know what I told Sam? And as if John could read his thoughts he replied.
"It's amazing what you can see when your dead." John smirked. "You need to remember that, because if he looses you too, he'll be open for the demon to take him and turn him."
Dean looked at his father, tears in both their eyes. He scolded himself mentally because Dean Winchester didn't cry. That's when his father pulled him into a hug and told him that sometimes it was ok to cry. It was something he should have said to his son when he was little, but better late than never. John released his son from his embrace, said goodbye and walked off, slowly fading from view, leaving Dean alone again in the silent field.
Dean woke the next morning feeling refreshed. He lay in his bed for a while, just staring at the ceiling. He finally got up when he heard Sam call him from the other end of the hall. He walked out to the kitchen to see Sam sitting at the table eating breakfast. Dean grabbed himself a bowl of cereal and glass of juice and sat down at the table across from Sam. Sam passed him part of the newspaper as he continued to read his own. This had been their little routine for weeks. They would sit there at the table and silently read the newspaper as they ate. But today was going to be different; Dean simply pushed the paper back across the table and looked at Sam.
"Sam, put the paper down." Dean said flatly. Sam barely looked up from the newspaper to glance at his brother.
"No." He replied, bringing the paper back up to read it.
"Sam just put the damned paper down." Dean said, still keeping his voice even and calm. Sam finally folded the paper and placed it on the table on top of the part that Dean had pushed back towards his side of the table. He looked at Dean expectantly.
"Your right, I'm not okay with Dads death. I'm not ok with the burden he placed on my shoulders from the time I was a kid until now. I just figured with all the crap we've dealt with lately we could, ya know, talk about it. Remember, I did tell you that if you kept it all inside that in the long run it would kill you." Dean said quickly, but never letting his eyes drop from Sam's. Sam just looked at Dean incredulously.
"Who are you and what did you do with my big brother?" Sam laughed. This even made Dean laugh a little, he rolled his eyes.
"Oh shut up. You wanna talk about this or what?" Dean asked.
The end
I know, my endings all suck. Thanks for reading, please r&r