Note: So this happened...I'm not entirely sure why or how. Marianne Lidell got me thinking and this is the result of said thoughts :) Thank you so much everyone for reviewing/commenting! I can't properly express how much that means to me...because it's 2am...and I can't properly express anything at this point. Enjoy :)
I kept one eye on the cleavage of the busty blonde in front of me, and the other on my dorky little brother hunched over at a table on the other side of the room.
My ability to multitask has always amazed me. I can easily flirt with a hot chic and supervise my kid brother all at the same time.
Something else that has always amazed me? My little brother's complete lack of interest in anything fun.
The kid is only 17, he should be thrilled to use a fake ID and sneak into a bar, he should be even more thrilled at the number of attractive prospects hanging around this particular bar. But does the boy show any interest whatsoever? Of course not. Instead he sits tucked away in the corner of the room hunched over a text book, nursing a single light beer.
Light Beer... one light beer...
I really didn't get this kid.
To Sam's credit, this particular activity wasn't his idea.
I had decided that my little brother really needed to get out and have some fun. All the teen did anymore was hunt, got to school, and argue with Dad. The constant stress and fighting was wearing on my kid; I could tell by the way his shoulders hunched, his sullen attitude, and his complete lack of excitement for anything...even school. So when Dad returned from a hunt all keyed-up and pissy, I knew that the best way to avoid another battle of wills between the two members of my family, was to separate them.
Shockingly it hadn't been terribly difficult to talk Sam into coming out with me tonight. I felt that the teenager was as eager to avoid a confrontation with our father as I was to stop it from happening.
I knew when Sam sat next to me in the Impala with his fake ID in one hand and textbook in the other, that the teen was going to be a buzz kill, but I decided not to harass him about it; it was enough that John seemed to be constantly on my brother's case as of late. The tension between the two was exhausting, so even if Sam wanted to come out to the bar and geek out, that was fine with me.
Although, I should really teach that nerd how to have fun every now and then, but I guess that will be a lesson for another time.
I glanced back over at Sam, snickering as I watched him blush uncomfortably at a girl who looked to be about my age trying to flirt with him.
My god this kid was hopeless, but he seemed at ease and relatively content, so I'd take it.
I went to focus at least part of my attention on the female in front of me, but the newest entrance to the bar caught my eye.
It was a clown, or at least a partial clown.
It was large man who looked to be in his 50's. He was wearing an obnoxiously colourful shirt that was sloppily tucked in to average looking brown pants, his shoes were also normal. It looked as though the man had had been wearing a wig at one point, because the white facial colouring stopped about half way up his forehead, revealing a bald scalp. His face was painted, and although you could tell it was fading and he had wiped at it, the paint was still prominent enough to clearly display the clown-like features.
The moment I saw the stranger enter I automatically turned back toward my little brother. It was naive of me to believe for one second that the kid hadn't notice. Sam was a hunter, perhaps a reluctant one at most times, but still as vigilant as my father and I. There was no doubt that my brother had seen that man enter the same time I had.
I could clearly make out the tension in Sam's body, his shoulders going rigid as the colour left his face.
I waited, knowing that it was only a matter of seconds before Sam's eyes searched out mine. As I predicted wide hazel orbs flew my way.
I let a smirk cross my face and returned my brother's gaze steadily, because the kid needed calm reassurance, and I excelled at that.
The fear faded from Sam's eyes and tiny twitch of a smile displayed a single dimple as he ruefully shook his head and returned his attention to his homework, but I knew that, like me, he would keep a wary eye out for the clown.
Because some fears just never go away, they might become less intense, they might even fade with time; but some fears never disappear completely... regardless of how badly you wish they would.
I swept my eyes over my little brother, grimacing at the sight of his casted limb resting on the table. The kid got chucked pretty hard on the last hunt, had snapped his arm. The teenager wasn't cradling it against his chest the way he did when it was really hurting him, so I assumed he was alright.
I tore my eyes away from the kid, because I'm in a bar full of attractive women and it would be shameful if I spent the entire time staring at my baby brother.
Though my gaze was now settled on a very hot body, Sam remained on my radar, as he always had, since the day he was born.
The clown also remained on my radar and I noticed when he wondered slowly over to the bar, when he ordered and paid for his liquor, and when he sauntered to the back corner of the room to take a seat.
Normally none of this behaviour would bother me, we were at a bar, and any middle-aged man who had a job as a clown would no doubt need to spend his night drowning in alcohol.
No, the problem wasn't his behaviour, it was the fact that he chose to sit at the table next to the one my little brother was at, their chairs practically touching.
Sam straightened right out from his hunched position, his body language screaming anxiety. He glanced at the clown from the corner or his eye, and then instantly his nervous stare landed on me.
I shrugged and nodded my head pointedly in the direction of an open table closer to the center of the room.
Sam looked as though he sighed, which made me smirk, because I knew that the kid hadn't selected the corner of the bar by mistake. The dork was searching for some sort of peace and quiet so he could study.
Although apparently the risk of disturbance was worth putting distance between him and the clown.
Sam closed his book and began gathering his papers the best he could with one hand, tucking his casted arm against him, the teen shoved his chair back as he came to a stand. I was about to return my attention to the woman who was talking about her dog...or something, but before I could, the clown made a move.
I watched his mouth move and saw him staring at Sammy, but I couldn't make out what was being said. My little brother angled to look at him and then shook his head dismissively, turning to make his way to the empty table across the room. I thought we were in the clear, until Sam went crashing to the ground.
The kid went down hard, practically face-planted on the wooden floor, his book and papers flying as he connected with the hard-wood.
I instantly headed towards him, disregarding the girl still going on about her pug…whatever the hell that is. I knew something was going on, Sam may have recently experienced a frankly absurd growth-spurt and he hadn't exactly grown accustomed to his lengthy limbs just yet, but the boy wasn't a total klutz. There's no way he just tripped on thin air, no I'm betting something tripped him, or someone.
Someone who clearly didn't know rule #1
Don't mess with Sammy.
I made it across the room in time to help Sam climb to his feet, something made much more difficult when only one arm operates correctly. I didn't miss the sneer that crossed the clown's face as I collected my brother's books while he absently rubbed at his cast.
"You alright?" I asked, handing Sam his things.
"Fine." The lanky teenager responded curtly his cheeks red with embarrassment as he stared at the ground, making a point to avoid all the curious looks directed his way.
I ignored the nosy people of the bar and turned to direct my attention at the real issue.
"What the fuck is your problem?" I barked at the man staring up at me in amusement.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He shrugged, feigning innocence.
I wasn't impressed.
"Sorry, did I not make myself clear? Perhaps I should speak in a language you understand." I ground out, crowding the douchebag's space, placing my hands down on top of the table and leaning in to his face.
"I was just trying to teach the boy some manners. I sit down, he gives me a look and then gets up to leave. I asked the brat what his issue was, he didn't bother to answer. So I figured maybe a little trip would help knock some manners into him." The man explained, his tone conceded and casual, as though he were discussing the weather.
"Listen here asshole-
"Dean, don't bother man, come on." Sam interrupted, tugging on the elbow of my jacket sleeve.
The clown smirked, as though he was aware of the fact I was unable to ignore my little brother.
Reluctantly, I straightened up and pulled my hands off the tabletop, but before I got the chance to obey the teen's request and walk away, the clown got to his feet.
He was overweight and taller than me, taller than my sasquatch of a brother as well, and though he was half-dressed as a clown, he exhibited a confident aggression.
"That's right, listen to your boyfriend." He snarled.
I'd had enough.
I intended to show this moron exactly who he was messing with; but before I could rip into the bastard Sam was pulling me back and stepping directly in between us, his back to the clown as he placed his hands on my chest, homework tucked under his armpit. His long fingers tapping as he looked at me steadily.
"He's not worth it Dean. Let's just go."
I stared at Sam, annoyed that I had to angle my face up in order to properly see his.
My fists were clenched in anger while I was forced to resist the urge to teach that son-of-a-bitch a lesson. I shook my head at the teenager in front of me, indicating that I had no intention of walking away.
The hands on my chest pressed against me a little harder.
"Dean, please."
Sam's steady expression cracked as the plea came through, concern evident on his young face.
Well fuck.
This kid knew I couldn't dismiss his pleas.
Sam was a Winchester through and through, no matter how much he didn't want to be, and like all of us, he didn't beg or plead often. So when I heard the soft pleading tone in his voice, there was no way I could shrug it off...and the little shit knew it.
I nodded, not trusting myself enough to open my mouth, knowing that if I did I would start a fight.
Sam nodded back in reply, relief written across his features as be released a breath I hadn't noticed he'd been holding
I was about to turn around, Sam letting his hands fall from my chest as we went to leave.
"At least your boyfriend knows when you're in over your head."
I stilled, body tensing, but the long fingers gripping my elbow, pulling at me to turn and leave, forced me to relax, until...
"You always listen so obediently to the little bitch? Is the kid even legal yet?" As the clown sneered the comment, his hand swept across the back of Sam's neck and gripped onto his shoulder, squeezing hard.
My little brother flinched, his eyes growing wide as they stared into mine...the exact same way they did all those years ago.
The last time some fucking clown put his hands on my little brother.
I grabbed hold of my brother's jacket and firmly tugged him away from the man, pushing him behind me.
I vaguely heard Sam say my name, but the call was drowned out by the sound of my fist connecting with the painted face sneering down at me.
The larger man was surprised, but he didn't go down.
He was a big guy, but I was a trained hunter, and even better…I was pissed.
I blocked the fist coming at my face and got another jab in, and then another one after that.
Soon the clown toppled over the table and hit the floor.
I followed and continued to lay into him, hardly noticing all the shouting going on in the bar.
Anger and rage coursed through my veins as I beat on the bigger man.
The man who had touched my little brother.
I didn't stop until a long skinny arm encircled my chest and pulled me backwards off the clown.
I swung around to deliver some choice words to the individual that dragged me away from the object of my hate, but stopped short seeing my little brother's face.
"That's enough Dean. Let's go." The teen said forcefully, his hand wrapping around my elbow as he held his schoolwork to his chest with his casted arm.
I made to argue.
To tell Sam that was definitely not enough, the bastard was barely bleeding, but then I saw the lines of pain in my little brother's face and noticed the tense anxiety in his posture.
Not to mention that a sweep of the bar told me all eyes were on us and there were a few individuals looking eager to intervene as the bartender held a shotgun casually in his hands, keeping an eye on the scene.
I glanced down at the clown.
His nose was bleeding, as was the corner of his mouth, but not much.
Although, his eyes were already swelling and even past the smeared make-up it was clear the man's face would be black and blue by tomorrow.
"Alright, just give me a sec." I told Sam.
The kid sighed, reluctantly releasing my elbow and taking a small step back.
I crouched over the panting, moaning piece of shit, grabbing the front of his disgustingly colourful shirt and tugging him towards me.
"You're lucky that my kid brother gives a shit, but if you do so much as breathe near him again, it won't matter what Sammy says, I'll tear your apart." I vowed, my face mere inches from the clown.
"Got it?" I seethed, waiting for a sign of comprehension.
The man's eyes met mine, he took a moment, but finally nodded discretely.
I instantly released my grip and straightened up.
"Alright, I'm done. We can go." I stated casually, allowing Sam to direct me to the door and push me towards it.
"Didn't know you were so possessive of your little boy-toy." The clown smirked up from the ground, the blood, swelling, and make-up doing nothing to hinder the dark smile.
I turned around, the rage I thought had drained making a violent return.
But Sam wasn't having it.
My brother planted his feet and shoved me out the door I had just opened.
"You Fucker!" I hollered, trying to get past my brother.
Sam may be wiry, but he's tall and well-trained, and on the rare occasion that he wants to, he can put up quite the fight.
"Dean! That's enough." The kid barked, in a commanding tone that sounded an awful lot like the one I used.
"No Sam. It's not! Step aside." I ground out, eager to get back inside and teach that pervert a lesson.
"No, just calm down man." The teenager said, his good hand pressed against the center of my chest.
"Why should I?" I yelled, my anger at the situation coming out clear in my voice.
"Because you're being ridiculous." Sam declared, in that know-it-all teenage tone I despised.
"Ridiculous? Sammy I'm trying to protect you!" I shouted, because why the hell was this kid not getting it?
"You don't think I could handle it?" My little brother asked, genuine offense crossing his expression.
"You know that's now what I meant." I ground out, my annoyance with this kid growing by the second.
"Really? Because the way that I see it, you don't think I could take on a simple middle-aged man. Come on Dean, we've trained together, hunted together, and you still don't think I'm capable of handling myself?" Sam accused, waving his good arm about in frustration.
"Dude I know that you can handle yourself. Hell I've seen you take down monsters twice his size." I assured, because that was the truth.
"Then why did you go all bodyguard in there?" The teenager questioned, gesturing back to the bar.
"Because I knew that your diplomatic ass wouldn't give that son-of-a-bitch what he deserved." I said, my fists clenching as a fresh wave of contempt washed over me.
"That's because he wasn't worth it."
"He put his hands on you Sam!" I spat out.
"Yeah Dean, I know." My brother sighed, swiping a hand through his hair.
"And you can't tell me that you were okay with that, I saw your face." I added in a softer tone, making sure that I didn't sound like I was blaming the kid.
"Yeah well…I wasn't really…I was thinking about something else…" Sam stuttered in explanation, voice fading away as his gaze dropped to the ground.
"I know man…me too. That's why I couldn't let him get away with it, you know?"
Sam's bright hazel eyes came back up to meet mine.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I let some sick-fuck put his hands on you once—
"Dean you didn't let him do anything—
"I sat there Sam! I sat there and watched as he threatened, touched, and scared you. And I promised myself that I would never let that happen again. Ever." I confessed, voice breaking as I felt moisture gather in my eyes.
Sam was quiet for a moment, staring at me from underneath those stupid bangs, his puppy-dogs eyes on full force, filled with adoration and appreciation that I did nothing to deserve.
"How's your arm?" I asked, desperate to distract myself and hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.
The teenager blinked, as though he just remembered the injury.
He allowed me to grab hold of his homework and tuck it underneath my arm. I didn't miss the pain lines that creased his face as I brought the appendage out towards me.
I cradled the thin arm in my grasp, taking a look at the long bony fingers, being sure they were in no way discoloured or swollen, which would indicate further damage had been done to the broken limb.
Sam's fingers were good, I turned his arm over and grimaced at the cracked plaster.
My body tensed, touch still gentle as I examined the busted cast, but furry flowing through my veins. I knew from experience how much it hurt when a barely-healing limb was smashed around, and Sam must have hit the ground a hell of a lot harder than I thought he did if he managed to crack his cast.
"It's fine Dean." Sam soothed, sensing my anger.
I shook my head in complete disagreement, but let the violent feelings fade as I stared up at my brother.
"Looks like we'll be hanging out in the E.R. for the rest of the evening kiddo." I said, gently releasing his arm.
Sam nodded, knowing what a split cast meant as he tucked the appendage against his chest in visible discomfort.
"And we'll be sure to grab some of the good meds for you while we're there." I stated, ushering the teenager in the direction of the Impala.
"Don't need them Dean, some Advil would work fine."
I shook my head in exasperation.
Sam and his messed up priorities.
How did this kid not understand that he came before money?
That him being pain-free was more important than our financial stability?
"Shut up Sam." I muttered, opening the passenger door and encouraging my brother to sit down with a hand on his shoulder.
Sam huffed, rolling his eyes, displaying that wonderful teenage attitude as he dropped into the car.
I walked around to the driver's side, thankful I didn't have time to drink enough to impede on my driving ability, because there was no way I would let Sam behind the wheel with only one good arm.
I climbed in, tossing my nerdy brother's schoolwork in the backseat.
I placed the keys in the ignition, and paused, staring out the windshield in thought.
Feeling the kid's gaze on me, I searched for the words I wanted to say.
"Look…I know that you can take care of yourself. I don't want you thinking that I don't believe you're capable, because you are. Hell last time something like this happened, even though you were just a kid, you took that douche-bag on and saved yourself. I know that you can fight you're own battles Sammy, but you're my little brother, so don't expect me to ever stop protecting you…no matter how much of a sasquatch you are." I finished, staring intently at the kid's hazel eyes, imploring him to believe me.
I didn't want Sam feeling incompetent, I know that's how he felt around Dad and I knew how it hurt him, and I could never add to that pain.
But I also did not want my brother believing just because I know he can handle himself, that I would step back and stop protecting him the best I could.
I had failed too many times and not looking out for Sammy just wasn't an option.
It went against everything I believed in.
Every instinct I had.
Everything that I was.
"Thanks for that Dean." Sam said earnestly, a small smile brightening his face.
I nodded my head, satisfied that the kid understood me.
"Last time…when that guy…when he had us trapped in that motel room. I didn't save myself Dean, I may have made the first move, but you saved me. You always do." My little brother stated confidently.
I squinted out the windshield at the road ahead, unsure of what to say.
Sam was wrong of course.
I hadn't saved him.
I'd just sat there and watched someone hurt him.
I dropped my left hand from the steering-wheel, sliding it into the pocket of my jeans and toying with the paperclip resting there.
Remembering all the vows I had made to myself five years ago.
"Dad's going to be pissed." My little brother muttered as I drove my baby in the direction of the medical center.
"Don't worry about Dad." I said, a promise in my voice.
If John had a problem, he could take it up with me.
Sam had dealt with enough shit tonight.
We drove in silence a few minutes longer, but something nagged at my mind, and I had to get it out…though I felt I had been sharing and caring a little too much this evening.
"He loves you, Dad, he really does you know...he just…doesn't always know how to show it." I declared in a muddled manner.
Sam's eyes stayed on me for a while, before he turned his gaze out the window.
"Yeah…I know." He sighed tiredly, cradling his arm closer to his chest.
"Does it hurt bad?" I asked, nodding to the casted limb.
"Nah, just an ache really."
I shook my head, because why did I ever bother to ask. Sam was always underplaying his injuries.
And then I rolled my eyes, because who did the kid learn that from.
The Impala's rumble filled the silence as we approached the hospital.
"Why does it always have to be clowns?" My little brother whined petulantly.
I laughed, because damn this kid.
This kid with an entirely childish, yet completely justified fear.
With all his hair and his stupidly long limbs.
With that teenage angst and attitude.
Always studying or arguing.
Always thinking too much.
Stressing over everything and priorities all out of whack.
Strong and smart, with a heart three times the size of everyone else's.
This kid who never seemed to change.
The kid I loved more than anything on this godforsaken planet.
My kid.
My life.
Sammy.
Note: Please comment/review. I'd love to know what you think. Thanks for reading! - Sam