Hey Brother
Do You Still Believe in One Another?
Rain was beginning to dot the windshield of the Impala as Dean came to an intersection with a blinking red light. He stopped the car, obeying the signal and looking both ways before proceeding. Sam stirred in the passenger seat, mumbling to himself in his sleep as he repositioned himself. Dean glanced over at his little brother, he'd always talked in his sleep, Dean could remember getting irritated with Sam when they were younger for keeping him up with his chatter. He half smiled to himself as the rain began to fall harder, Bad Company was playing quietly through the speakers as he guided them towards Danvers, Massachusetts – the site of the Salem Witch Trials – to investigate a haunting.
“Don't go,” Sam whispered sleepily into the darkness of the Impala, he sounded worried. Dean looked again to Sammy, his face illuminated by the dull green glow of the old radio, he could see the distress on his face.
Dean wondered if he should wake his younger brother, but thought better of it since he had hardly been sleeping lately and it had worried Dean – he was thankful his brother was finally getting some rest, even if it wasn't the most peaceful. Some was better than none, right?
Growing up Dean had always known he would follow in his father's footsteps into the family business, but he wanted something more for Sam for as long as he could remember. He didn't want his brother to feel the loneliness he often felt, the empty aching that would tug at him when he saw a man with his family, or the longing for closeness and acceptance that, in quiet moments, would wash over Dean like a tsunami. He wanted Sam to have a real life with a good woman and enough money so he didn't have to live hand to mouth or regularly use stolen credit cards – Sam had left, he'd gotten out and started on a path towards all of that and Dean had shown up to ask for his help in finding their father. Dean knew, deep down, that he'd stolen his little brother's happily ever after that night he'd asked for his help.
Dean had once wondered about what his life would have been like if the hand he'd been dealt would have been a little different, if their mom had lived, if all of this supernatural shit didn't exist, what would Dean have been? He tried to think of something he could have done with his life as Lynryd Skynyrd came on, he racked his brain, but honestly, Dean Winchester knew he would most likely have never amounted to much. Maybe he would have ended up with a decent factory job, a trailer, his car, an average life.
More often the older Winchester would find himself wondering what Sam's life would have been like if he hadn't recruited his brother into the family business. Sometimes, Dean's imagination would get carried away and he'd picture Sam as a high profile attorney, driving a nice – hell, probably foreign – car, and in Dean's mind, Sam would have married Jessica. Maybe they'd have a kid or two running around what surely would have been a beautiful home. Whenever Dean's mind put together these pieces of Sam's would be life, he felt guilty as sin. It didn't matter to him much if he missed out on a happy life – that's not to say those feelings of loneliness didn't weigh on him – but he had never had that life dangled in front of him only to have it snatched away.
“Hey,” Sam said, pulling Dean out of his thoughts, he looked to his little brother, “Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean answered, becoming suddenly aware of the tears welling up in his eyes.
“What's-” Sam paused, feeling both terror and sadness as he saw the tears in his brother's eyes. Seeing Dean cry was something that shook Sam to his core, making him feel like that scared little kid that would cry whenever their Dad left, “What's going on?”
“Nothing,” Dean wiped angrily at his eyes, sensing Sam's fear, “Everything's okay.”
“Is it Bobby?” Sam asked, his voice quivering slightly.
“No, Sam,” Dean responded, “He's fine. I was just,” He tried to find the words, “Mulling some things over.”
“Well, whatever it is, Dean, you can tell me,” Sam said, reaching a tentative hand out and placing it on his brother's shoulder, “I'm here for you, man.” Dean's lips formed a hard line as he swallowed the urge to cry, “Dean.”
“I was just wondering where you'd be right now if I'd never showed up needing your help to find dad,” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, “I was wondering if you'd be some hot shot lawyer, if you'd be happy. Shit, if you'd be able to actually sleep at night. I was trying to figure out how much I've stolen from you.”
“Stolen from me?” Sam asked, “You didn't chose this life for us.”
“I didn't stop it either,” Dean rumbled.
“How the fuck would you stop it, Dean? Everything we deal with, this is all bigger than us. It's always been bigger than us, or dad, there's no stopping this from being a part of our lives. No matter what, this is where we would have ended up.”
“No, this is where I would have ended up. You had a choice.”
“I never had a choice and neither did you,” Sam fought back his own tears before speaking again, “Stop beating yourself up over something you could never control and even if you could, I'm here because I want to be here. We do this together or not at all, we're a team.” Dean was silent, not knowing how to respond, “I've never blamed you for my life, Dean.”
A single tear broke free and rolled down Deans cheek, making him grit his teeth and again wipe at his eyes, a small growl of frustration came from his throat.
“Thank you, Sammy,” Dean finally spoke when he knew he'd be able to keep his voice steady.
“I mean it, this is what it is and it will always be you and me. I'll always have your back.”
“I'll always have yours, little brother,” Dean forced a smile and despite his feelings of guilt still lingering – he suspected they always would (and they would, in fact.) - he looked at his brother, “You hungry? Cause I could sure as hell go for a burger right about now.”
Sam shook his head at the ease his older brother could stuff his emotions away, he knew to drop the subject. If Dean wanted to talk, he would eventually, “I could eat.”
“Let's find us a diner.”
The Impala rumbled on into the rainy night, carrying the two brothers closer to their new destination and ever closer to their demise. They would ferociously protect one another until the end, until the gates of hell were closed, until the sky came falling down.
“Don't go,” Sam whispered sleepily into the darkness of the Impala, he sounded worried. Dean looked again to Sammy, his face illuminated by the dull green glow of the old radio, he could see the distress on his face.
Dean wondered if he should wake his younger brother, but thought better of it since he had hardly been sleeping lately and it had worried Dean – he was thankful his brother was finally getting some rest, even if it wasn't the most peaceful. Some was better than none, right?
Growing up Dean had always known he would follow in his father's footsteps into the family business, but he wanted something more for Sam for as long as he could remember. He didn't want his brother to feel the loneliness he often felt, the empty aching that would tug at him when he saw a man with his family, or the longing for closeness and acceptance that, in quiet moments, would wash over Dean like a tsunami. He wanted Sam to have a real life with a good woman and enough money so he didn't have to live hand to mouth or regularly use stolen credit cards – Sam had left, he'd gotten out and started on a path towards all of that and Dean had shown up to ask for his help in finding their father. Dean knew, deep down, that he'd stolen his little brother's happily ever after that night he'd asked for his help.
Dean had once wondered about what his life would have been like if the hand he'd been dealt would have been a little different, if their mom had lived, if all of this supernatural shit didn't exist, what would Dean have been? He tried to think of something he could have done with his life as Lynryd Skynyrd came on, he racked his brain, but honestly, Dean Winchester knew he would most likely have never amounted to much. Maybe he would have ended up with a decent factory job, a trailer, his car, an average life.
More often the older Winchester would find himself wondering what Sam's life would have been like if he hadn't recruited his brother into the family business. Sometimes, Dean's imagination would get carried away and he'd picture Sam as a high profile attorney, driving a nice – hell, probably foreign – car, and in Dean's mind, Sam would have married Jessica. Maybe they'd have a kid or two running around what surely would have been a beautiful home. Whenever Dean's mind put together these pieces of Sam's would be life, he felt guilty as sin. It didn't matter to him much if he missed out on a happy life – that's not to say those feelings of loneliness didn't weigh on him – but he had never had that life dangled in front of him only to have it snatched away.
“Hey,” Sam said, pulling Dean out of his thoughts, he looked to his little brother, “Dean?”
“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean answered, becoming suddenly aware of the tears welling up in his eyes.
“What's-” Sam paused, feeling both terror and sadness as he saw the tears in his brother's eyes. Seeing Dean cry was something that shook Sam to his core, making him feel like that scared little kid that would cry whenever their Dad left, “What's going on?”
“Nothing,” Dean wiped angrily at his eyes, sensing Sam's fear, “Everything's okay.”
“Is it Bobby?” Sam asked, his voice quivering slightly.
“No, Sam,” Dean responded, “He's fine. I was just,” He tried to find the words, “Mulling some things over.”
“Well, whatever it is, Dean, you can tell me,” Sam said, reaching a tentative hand out and placing it on his brother's shoulder, “I'm here for you, man.” Dean's lips formed a hard line as he swallowed the urge to cry, “Dean.”
“I was just wondering where you'd be right now if I'd never showed up needing your help to find dad,” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, “I was wondering if you'd be some hot shot lawyer, if you'd be happy. Shit, if you'd be able to actually sleep at night. I was trying to figure out how much I've stolen from you.”
“Stolen from me?” Sam asked, “You didn't chose this life for us.”
“I didn't stop it either,” Dean rumbled.
“How the fuck would you stop it, Dean? Everything we deal with, this is all bigger than us. It's always been bigger than us, or dad, there's no stopping this from being a part of our lives. No matter what, this is where we would have ended up.”
“No, this is where I would have ended up. You had a choice.”
“I never had a choice and neither did you,” Sam fought back his own tears before speaking again, “Stop beating yourself up over something you could never control and even if you could, I'm here because I want to be here. We do this together or not at all, we're a team.” Dean was silent, not knowing how to respond, “I've never blamed you for my life, Dean.”
A single tear broke free and rolled down Deans cheek, making him grit his teeth and again wipe at his eyes, a small growl of frustration came from his throat.
“Thank you, Sammy,” Dean finally spoke when he knew he'd be able to keep his voice steady.
“I mean it, this is what it is and it will always be you and me. I'll always have your back.”
“I'll always have yours, little brother,” Dean forced a smile and despite his feelings of guilt still lingering – he suspected they always would (and they would, in fact.) - he looked at his brother, “You hungry? Cause I could sure as hell go for a burger right about now.”
Sam shook his head at the ease his older brother could stuff his emotions away, he knew to drop the subject. If Dean wanted to talk, he would eventually, “I could eat.”
“Let's find us a diner.”
The Impala rumbled on into the rainy night, carrying the two brothers closer to their new destination and ever closer to their demise. They would ferociously protect one another until the end, until the gates of hell were closed, until the sky came falling down.