Fic - A sinner and a saint (1/?) - Sam and Dean Winchester
Title: A sinner and a saint (1/?) 
Author: benitle
Rating: PG-13 (will be higher in the second part)
Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester (mentions also John and Mary, but not in a sexual way)
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters and I’m not making any money with this. It’s only fiction.
Warning: Pre-Wincest
Spoilers: None
Word count: 4,701
Summary: This fic shows several events in the boys’ childhood, going from the time before Sam was born to the night before Sam leaves for college.
Notes: I’m writing this for a challenge for 7_deadly_sins_ and for 7_virtues. The idea is to write 7 prompts for each challenge based around the seven deadly sins or the seven contrary virtues. One of the boys is a sinner, the other one is a saint. Many many thanks to my wonderful betas cuissesdefer and niamh_x for help and encouragement.
This is my first SN fic ever, so any feedback is more than appreciated!
Dean - envy
"That’s how it really goes," Melissa ends her story as she nods knowingly.
Dean stares at her, a little perplexed, never having imagined that Dad asking him “So, would you like a little brother or sister, Dean?” would have these kinds of consequences.
Four year old Dean Winchester glances over at his advanced-in-pregnancy mother as he sits in the sandbox of the playground near to their house in Lawrence, Kansas. He watches her chat happily to the woman next to her, Melissa’s mother, who just got them - somehow - a new baby.
It’s lying in the baby carriage and the two women keep making funny faces when looking into it. Melissa’s report of how her parents only have eyes for the new baby and that she fears they’ll give her back, terrifies him and now somewhat makes sense. Dean is no longer sure whether he wants this little brother or sister after all, at least not if it’s going to be like that for him too.
There is this funny sensation in his tummy when he thinks about it and the fact that Mommy and Daddy might want to give him back once the new baby is there.
He was there first! They can’t give him back.
Even though he tells himself over and over again, the rumbling in his belly won’t go away. It’s a sharp pain and feels a little like the other day when Dad let him - secretly - eat too much ice-cream and when Mom was telling John off, while Dean was lying in his bed, moaning in agony. It’s a bit like that, but not quite. It makes him angry and makes him want to tell that he doesn’t want the baby and that Mommy and Daddy already have him and there is no need for a new baby.
Dean has the misgiving that he won’t like it and it’ll only cause a lot of trouble.
He’s still lost in his thoughts when Mary slowly walks into his direction and holds out her hand for Dean. There’s a loving and warm smile on her face as she tells her son to get up, so that they can go home and that Daddy will return soon from work and that they will have to prepare some dinner.
Quickly, Dean says goodbye to Melissa and says see you tomorrow, because he knows they’re going to be there tomorrow and then Mommy and Melissa’s Mommy will look at the new baby all the time again, while Melissa and he will have to play on their own. Dean wonders how it will be when Mom has her own new baby and whether it will be worse than like it is with Melissa’s little sister. Again, Dean is elsewhere with his thoughts as Melissa bends over and presses a quick and soppy kiss to his cheek. Mary chuckles as Dean blushes furiously and tells him that he can play with his girlfriend again tomorrow, but that they need to go home now.
On their way to the house, Dean keeps thinking about the words Melissa said and how the new baby ruined everything. No matter how hard he tries, the pain in his tummy won’t go away.
Sam - kindness
The day when John brings Mary and the new baby home from hospital is meant to change Dean’s life forever. He’s not really happy about it, believes to know what’s coming now: it’ll be only a matter of time until no one will care about him anymore - like it happened to Melissa - and until they’ll give him away. Eventually.
When Dad asks whether Dean would like to have a look at his little brother, he only shakes his head and says “No.” John laughs and grabs him nonetheless to hold him over the cradle of the newborn.
“So Dean, what do you think of your little brother Sammy?” John asks with a smile on his face, believing that this is one of the most wonderful moments in his life.
At first, Dean looks at the little creature lying in bed, sleeping peacefully. Carefully, he looks at the pink skin that seems especially dark on the chubby cheeks.
So, this is the new guy, the great, younger brother when all he wanted was a dog.
“Daddy, he’s ugly.” Dean eventually states coolly. “And look Daddy, there is no hair. I don’t think he’s finished yet.”
John laughs softly as he squishes his oldest son tenderly. “Yes, I see. Of course you were the prettiest baby to be seen.”
Dean quickly nods, a broad, boyish smirk on his young face (that same broad smirk that later should become his main weapon of seduction), making John laugh again.
“Let me see again, Daddy,” Dean demands, craning his neck to look once more into the cradle and at his sleeping brother.
Suddenly, the baby opens his eyes and for a second John fears that he’ll start crying, but he doesn’t. Instead, he focuses on the new face and - squeaks. Sammy squeaks as he looks at Dean who is still giving him a sceptical look, trying to assess whether he should tell Mommy and Daddy to keep the baby or whether he should tell them to give it back to wherever they got it from.
Sammy’s eyes are big and inquisitive as they focus carefully on his older brother, he doesn’t make any more sounds, but laughs wordlessly at Dean, laughs with his round eyes. It’s a loving laugh, one of those “I think I like you and I want to be your friend” laughs.
But there is something else, there is something else as those round eyes lay upon Dean. There is this warmth and kindness, even though Dean doesn’t know yet what the word kindness means. It’s a soft, dreamy look and the older Winchester brother can’t help but melt a bit.
That’s the moment when Sammy shows his unconditional and deep love for his brother for the very first time.
Little Dean can’t help but smile at Sammy, finally deciding to tell his father, “I guess, he’s a nice guy. You can keep him.”
John grins at his two sons, while softly rustling Dean’s blonde mop. “I’m glad to have your blessing, Dean.”
With finishing the sentence, he puts Dean down to bring him into his room and make sure the kids get enough sleep. But this is exactly the moment when little Sammy starts crying, exactly the moment when his older brother is brought out of sight. He cries with an incredible volume that makes Mary run from downstairs to check what’s wrong.
Quickly, she takes Sammy out of the cradle and when she asks John what happened, her husband can only answer that all he did was take Dean down to bring him to bed. As soon as Sam can look at his brother again, he stops crying but laughs once more with his eyes.
“I think, little Sammy’s in love,” John laughs.
How right he is.
Dean - sloth
After their mother’s death just a few weeks after Sam’s birth, their new life changes yet again.
As the years go by John moves his boys around the country, desperate to find the thing that took away his wife and mother of his children, making this frigging mess of his family. They never stay in one place longer than necessary and that’s when Dean finds himself set his priorities differently.
On the one hand, he’s driven by that promise he made to Sammy when carrying him out of the burning house all those years ago. The promise that he’ll protect Sam and take care of him no matter what, the promise that he’ll look after them, feeling it deep in his guts that he’ll need to do that.
Now, years later he understands what this’ll mean, understands that he - that they - need to know how to defend themselves with weapons - guns, knives, all kinds of stuff that could get someone, or something killed and that will save your own life.
On the other hand, he is proud that his father starts letting them help, that he teaches them how to use all those weapons that have become normal everyday-life objects for them and that he teaches them how to hunt and defend themselves.
He’s proud to be part of it and that it’s his turn to do something to seek revenge for his mother’s death and it calms him that this’ll also increase the chance to keep that one promise.
Of course, those new past-time activities make him neglect other things that normal boys have to focus on, but then Dean remembers that they’ve never fitted into normal in any way since Mary died 8 years ago.
It’s the third time this month (and the month just started) that one of Dean’s teachers calls, asking whether his Dad was there. Dean says that he’s sorry but Dad is away on a business trip (he doesn’t mention that he’s hunting some weird spirit somewhere outside Dillon, South Carolina) and that he won’t be back before the end of the week. Quickly, the teacher - his maths teacher and definitely least favourite - thanks him and tells him that he’ll call again by then.
Dean’s shakes his head, close to saying that there’s no need and that he knows anyway what this call is about and that he can tell Dad himself. It’s always the same old thing. His school results. It’s been like this ever since Dad started training him that Dean lost all interest in school and studying.
His teachers will say that he’s not stupid, but that he’s simply incredibly lazy and that he needs to start working harder and dedicate more time to his school work. Dean sighs, knowing how the conversation with Dad will go once John finds about the teacher’s call. He’ll tell Dean with a strict voice that he’s not in trouble and that the hunting lessons are important, but that he’ll have to concentrate enough on school to pass and not cause any problems.
As he hangs up the phone and turns around to walk towards the kitchen, in hope there’ll be something to eat, he sees Sammy stand in the doorway, looking at him with those big eyes, full of disappointment and accusation.
“Was that another teacher?” his little brother asks.
Dean hesitates a moment, pondering what to say and what not to say. He hates lying to Sam, his little Sammy, but he hates fighting with Sam over and over again about their life and all Sam wants is a normal life and be a normal family.
“No, it wasn’t. Want to order some pizza?”
Dean can’t even look at Sam when he’s lying to him like that.
Sam - diligence
Sam sometimes hates the life he’s living. Of course, he loves Dean, who has been his hero ever since the moment he first laid his eyes on his older brother, and of course, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere without him, because wherever Dean is, there is safety and safety is one of the things that eight year old Sam Winchester needs more than anything else.
But all he wants is a normal life, a normal family and normal friends. Dean is the only friend he has, basically because they never stay long enough in one place to make friends. Real friends. Actually, Dean’s the only person Sam can go to whenever he has a problem, when there is something he can’t figure out himself about growing up. There are things he’d never talk about with Dad and Dean is all he’s got. Sammy doesn’t mind playing with him in the afternoon, after he did his schoolwork and before Dad will force them to practice fighting again, it’s rather more that fighting part that bothers him.
He knows that Dean likes it, that it makes him proud and gives him this “We are Winchesters” feeling, but Sam detests it greatly.
That’s why he’ll try and find any kind of excuse to avoid it.
So far he’s joined the drama club, the literature club and the art club at his current school. And he can’t wait to start with chess and swimming as soon as possible. Basically, he’d do anything as long as he can stay longer at school and not come home early and give his father the impression that he’s having time for fighting lessons or any of this other weird lectures John gives the boys.
When there are no clubs to join, Sam will spend as much time as possible in the school library, doing further reading. He’ll read whatever falls into his little hands, anything really, but with a clear preference for history. It makes for a nice change to all the evil and supernatural creatures books that Dad insists the boys read.
Once Sam is through with American history, from the Pilgrims and the Mayflower to the most recent events, he dedicates himself to European history. He starts with Persia and Alexander the Great - strangely fascinated by Alexander and Hephaistion - followed by the ancient Egyptians and the pyramids. He reads as much as he can about the Greeks and their gods and goddesses as well as Rome and the emperors. King Arthur and his knights, the medieval age and the renaissance, leading to colonisation, the French Revolution and Napoleon, the Wars and the Cold War, to contemporary history.
Sam finds himself read those books over and over again, trying to soak up as much knowledge as possible - normal knowledge that is worth being had and not freaky facts such as how to dispossess spirits or how to kill zombies or werewolves.
His teachers take him aside every other week and recommend him certain books; they praise him for being such a hard-working and diligent student and tell him how much they wish more students were like him.
Sam smiles then, thanks them politely as he wanders off. College. That’s his dream. To go to college one day, lead a normal life.
When he tells Dean the first time about his plans, his brother only cocks an eyebrow before he says, “Dude, you’re totally nuts!” But when he sees the sad expression on his baby brother’s face, he gives him a soft nudge and drags him along the corridor the next moment and into the kitchen. Dean quickly opens the freezer, grabbing the big box of ice-cream and Sam understands immediately, taking two spoons out of the drawer close-by.
Sometimes Sam does not only hate his life, but also the fact that no one seems to take him seriously.
Dean - wrath
“What the fuck, dude? Say it again!” Dean spits at Sam.
It already had started bad when Sam told his family this morning that he’d need to talk to them in the evening. He said it in the voice that usually only John uses, when he’ll have to tell the boys that they’re going to move yet another time. Dean never minded much, but he knows that Sammy always did.
Now Dean’s so angry that he has to clench and unclench his fists in order to stop himself from punching Sam here and now in front of their father, who looks lethargically at his younger son. In this very moment, there are a million and one emotions boiling within Dean and the urge to hurt Sam in any way is strongest of them all.
“I said,” Sam states calmly, yet taking a few steps back from his enraged brother, “I said that I’m going to college. I’m leaving.”
Sam is 17, only a few weeks until his 18th birthday, but still he’s a few inches taller than his 22 year old brother. Dean knows that, should they start a fight now, it’s not clear who’s going to win, after all they’ve been trained by the same mentor, learned the same tricks how to defend themselves and how to hurt others.
“And there is nothing you can do. They already accepted me,” Sam continues with a soft hiss.
The way Sam speaks to him makes Dean even more furious, in his current state he believes to hear mockery in the way Sam talks, as if it gave Sam whatever kick to make his brother even angrier and provoke him. And then, when Sam adds that weird, wry smirk, Dean makes his move.
He’s just as fast as his father always told him to be in the moment of attack. With all his force, he grabs the hem of Sam’s white shirt to slam him roughly against the wall of the living room the next moment. Sam’s eyes spring wide open at the unpredicted movement and his head bumps against the wall. He whimpers a soft “ouch” but Dean doesn’t give a fucking damn. Usually, that sound would bring the “protect little Sammy” up to the surface, not this time though. Dean’s too enraged to think about anything but punching Sam.
“You little peace of shit,” Dean hisses through gritted teeth, “So you think, you’re too good for us? Us, your family, Sammy!”
With finishing the sentence one of Dean’s hand moves up to his brother’s face, squeezing his jaw roughly, hard enough to make clear tears fill Sam’s eyes. Sammy blinks them away, as he tries to struggle free, kicking out for Dean, desperate now, trying anything to get away, because it hurts so much.
It’s not only the physical pain, but also the pain that Dean doesn’t understand. Dean, the only one he thought that would understand.
But eventually, it is someone else.
“Dean, let go of your brother,” John states, almost matter-of-factly and Dean doesn’t believe his ears.
His father is telling him to get off of this bastard that’s about to run away, leaving them, betraying him. Dean stares at his father, speechless, but eventually he follows the order, taking a step away from Sam, who quickly starts rubbing his jaw.
“But Dad…”
“Dean, if he wants it, he can go.”
That’s the end of the discussion and Dean knows that there will be no point in arguing with their father. A father who resigned all those months and years ago, knowing that there is hardly any connection with his youngest son and that not letting him go will only make things worse.
But that’s an insight Dean still has not gained, instead he only snorts in disapproval. He doesn’t look at Sammy or Dad as he stomps out of the room.
Doesn’t want them to see the tears in his eyes.
Sam - patience
When Sam tells Dad and Dean in the morning that he’ll have to talk to them in the evening, he doesn’t feel very comfortable. Dad only nods at him, but Dean squeezes his eyes shut, showing Sam that he might not like what he’s going to hear.
Quickly, Sam excuses himself, says that he’ll be late for school and that he has an important test today that he cannot possibly miss. Dean and Dad came back late last night from a hunting trip and they’re probably happy to finally get some rest while Sam is off to classes.
Sam’s friends - well, the people he hangs out with at school - and even a teacher ask him whether he is ok, saying that he seems so absent-minded today. Throughout the whole day, he’s not able to help it. He simply can’t stop thinking about how he’ll tell his family - even if they’re freaks they are his family -that he’s planning to go to college and that he does no longer want to be part of this ghost hunting, road tripping madness and everything else that he’s hated so much.
On his way home he feels more at unease with each step that he comes closer to the rented house, Dad agreed to stay with them until Sam finished high school. On the doorstep he fidgets with his keys, nervously trying to insert them into the keyhole but only drops them. He curses and that’s when Dean opens the front door for him, with that broad, boyish smirk that Sam loves so much.
“I heard you coming, Sammy,” Dean smiles, showing perfect white teeth, his moss green eyes shining.
“Ah, thanks, dude.”
Sam quickly enters, tossing his bag and books into the next corner, before he gets rid off his jacket. Before Sam can react, Dean grabs him and pulls him close for a hug, because that’s what he always does when Sam comes home from school, mainly because Dean has been the one to do so instead of a parent for the last 17 years.
It never felt uncomfortable to any of them, neither the fact that Sam would sometimes snuggle close to Dean when they were lying on the couch, watching TV together or that Dean still, after all these years, would be the person to go to with any kind of problems.
When Sam, still being a toddler, needed to be fed, it used to be Dean to take care of that, when Sam would wake up in the middle of the night, crying because of a nightmare, it used to be Dean to tell him that it only had been a bad dream and that it was ok now. And then, also when Sam went through puberty, it was Dean who told him about everything.
Yet, the fact that Sam wants to go to college, that he couldn’t tell Dean, scared of the disappointment in his brother’s eyes. Until tonight.
Only recently Sam finds himself react a bit strangely - rather more his body and senses - whenever Dean is so ridiculously close, it’s consuming his thoughts. But that, Sam tries to shrug it off as his imagination going wild due to the fact that he hadn't had any action for a few weeks. After all, when Dean hugs him closely, his older brother doesn’t smell or feel any different than all those years. That’s what he’s trying to tell himself at least.
And maybe that’s just another reason why he has to go away to Stanford, get away from this family and sort out the mess that is his life, including all the inappropriate thoughts he lately seems to have.
“Sam! Sammy!”
Dean’s almost shouting at him now, still that broad, boyish smirk on his face.
“Huh, what?”
Sam excuses himself, having been lost in his thoughts and totally not noticing that their Dad came to join them downstairs, all Winchester men together in the living room in this awful moment of truth. Or factoid, rather more.
“Dad, Dean,” Sam pauses to lick his dry lips. He does it slowly, hoping this’ll give him more time to think how to bring his point across without hurting someone’s feelings too much. “I-I’m going to college. I’ll be leaving soon.”
Sam waits, waits whether there are any reactions, but there are none yet. That’s why he continues, well aware that Dean squeezes his eyes with that dangerous focus that he usually only has when hunting evil things.
“I’m going to college,” Sam repeats, “Stanford, California. I’ll be doing law.”
He speaks with a calm and soft voice, it’s almost patient. But secretly he only waits for the attack, the tirade from Dad who’ll tell him that this is impossible and that he won’t allow it.
It doesn’t come. Instead, John sits down on the old, shabby armchair by the window and stares at Sam without showing the slightest reaction on his face.
Dean does though. And how he does.
“What the fuck, dude? Say it again!” he spits at Sam.
And Sam does.
Dean - gluttony
The weeks pass and the day of Sammy leaving for college approaches. Dean finds himself in this weird state of confusion, feels an incredible tension build up within himself, within the Winchester family. A tension that he doesn’t know how to release, how to ease away. It drives him nuts.
Ever since Sam has told him that he’ll go to Stanford, leaving him behind with Dad, their relationship has cooled down. Sam says it’s childish and that Dean’s behaving like a brat, but Dean can’t help it. He can’t believe that his younger brother, the most important person in his life - even though he’d never be able to tell Sammy - is doing this to him.
He wishes things would simply go back to normal. Well, normal in a Winchester sort of way.
On the evening before Sammy leaving, Dean decides that he needs to go out, needs to go to some random bar, booze and maybe get laid, anything but spend the evening at home. He knows that it’ll probably upset Sam but it’s simply too hard and too much emotion for Dean to deal with.
Escape. That’s what he always tries to do when it gets too emotional.
Sammy only releases a little disappointed “Oh,” when Dean grabs the car keys, saying that he’ll be out the whole night.
Dean quickly finds a neat bar. He’d been here with Sam to celebrate his 18th birthday a few days ago because Sam asked him to have a drink with him, probably hoping it’ll make the ice between the brothers melt. Now, Dean orders whiskey, hoping that it’d ease the pain in his guts. He finishes the glass in one long draught. It immediately goes to his head, clouding his senses.
Dean orders another one and another one. He totally looses the feeling of how long he has been at the bar, he totally misses all the women that throw intrigued looks at him, trying to flirt. All he can think of is Sammy and Sammy leaving.
When Dean asks for another whiskey - he can’t remember how many he had already and he doesn’t really care - the bartender tells him that he’s had enough. But Dean disagrees and when he wants to express it, only babbled nonsense escapes his lips.
Dean gets up, trying to head for the toilet. As soon as he stands, he has to grab for the counter to steady his stance. Thank God, the guy sitting on the bar chair next to him is quick to react and to help Dean, preventing him from falling over.
Right, so he’s drunk. Right, so maybe he needs to go home now. Home. Drive. No, not a good idea.
Dean is back on the chair, that big, hairy guy probably helped him, and it takes him some time to figure out what to do next.
Call Sammy. Yes, calling Sammy is a good idea and tell him to pick him up, after all it’s Sammy’s fault.
In his current state it takes Dean five times until he manages to dial the right number.
“Dean, where the fuck are you?” Sam asks with a sleepy voice.
Dean can see him in his mind's eye, sitting in the bed, rubbing his eyes, his chestnut mop a total mess. He quickly explains to Sam where he is and that he needs to be picked up. Sammy grunts but eventually agrees to go out and get Dean.
It doesn’t take him long to turn up and Dean’s a little grateful for that because his head is spinning like mad now and he really needs to go to bed. Sam apologises to the bartender and everyone around Dean, in case Dean caused any trouble. They only laugh and say that he’s a funny freak who told them about ghosts and all that.
“Well, that’s my big brother,” Sam says with a wink.
Once outside, standing next to the Impala, Sam stuffs his hands into the pockets of Dean’s jacket to search for the keys. Dean grins wryly at him, a broad, drunken smirk.
“You’re so pretty.”
Sam’s eyes spring wide open as he hears Dean tell him, he’s pretty. Dean never said anything like that and Sam thinks he knows who is to blame.
“And you’re drunk, dude,” he chuckles.
Dean smirks even more as he tries to shake his head, but it looks rather uncoordinated and clumsy, due to the enormous intake of alcohol that night.
“You have beautiful lips, Sammy.”
With finishing the sentence, Dean bends over to kiss Sam softly on the lips.
Continued here
Author: benitle
Rating: PG-13 (will be higher in the second part)
Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester (mentions also John and Mary, but not in a sexual way)
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters and I’m not making any money with this. It’s only fiction.
Warning: Pre-Wincest
Spoilers: None
Word count: 4,701
Summary: This fic shows several events in the boys’ childhood, going from the time before Sam was born to the night before Sam leaves for college.
Notes: I’m writing this for a challenge for 7_deadly_sins_ and for 7_virtues. The idea is to write 7 prompts for each challenge based around the seven deadly sins or the seven contrary virtues. One of the boys is a sinner, the other one is a saint. Many many thanks to my wonderful betas cuissesdefer and niamh_x for help and encouragement.
This is my first SN fic ever, so any feedback is more than appreciated!
Dean - envy
"That’s how it really goes," Melissa ends her story as she nods knowingly.
Dean stares at her, a little perplexed, never having imagined that Dad asking him “So, would you like a little brother or sister, Dean?” would have these kinds of consequences.
Four year old Dean Winchester glances over at his advanced-in-pregnancy mother as he sits in the sandbox of the playground near to their house in Lawrence, Kansas. He watches her chat happily to the woman next to her, Melissa’s mother, who just got them - somehow - a new baby.
It’s lying in the baby carriage and the two women keep making funny faces when looking into it. Melissa’s report of how her parents only have eyes for the new baby and that she fears they’ll give her back, terrifies him and now somewhat makes sense. Dean is no longer sure whether he wants this little brother or sister after all, at least not if it’s going to be like that for him too.
There is this funny sensation in his tummy when he thinks about it and the fact that Mommy and Daddy might want to give him back once the new baby is there.
He was there first! They can’t give him back.
Even though he tells himself over and over again, the rumbling in his belly won’t go away. It’s a sharp pain and feels a little like the other day when Dad let him - secretly - eat too much ice-cream and when Mom was telling John off, while Dean was lying in his bed, moaning in agony. It’s a bit like that, but not quite. It makes him angry and makes him want to tell that he doesn’t want the baby and that Mommy and Daddy already have him and there is no need for a new baby.
Dean has the misgiving that he won’t like it and it’ll only cause a lot of trouble.
He’s still lost in his thoughts when Mary slowly walks into his direction and holds out her hand for Dean. There’s a loving and warm smile on her face as she tells her son to get up, so that they can go home and that Daddy will return soon from work and that they will have to prepare some dinner.
Quickly, Dean says goodbye to Melissa and says see you tomorrow, because he knows they’re going to be there tomorrow and then Mommy and Melissa’s Mommy will look at the new baby all the time again, while Melissa and he will have to play on their own. Dean wonders how it will be when Mom has her own new baby and whether it will be worse than like it is with Melissa’s little sister. Again, Dean is elsewhere with his thoughts as Melissa bends over and presses a quick and soppy kiss to his cheek. Mary chuckles as Dean blushes furiously and tells him that he can play with his girlfriend again tomorrow, but that they need to go home now.
On their way to the house, Dean keeps thinking about the words Melissa said and how the new baby ruined everything. No matter how hard he tries, the pain in his tummy won’t go away.
Sam - kindness
The day when John brings Mary and the new baby home from hospital is meant to change Dean’s life forever. He’s not really happy about it, believes to know what’s coming now: it’ll be only a matter of time until no one will care about him anymore - like it happened to Melissa - and until they’ll give him away. Eventually.
When Dad asks whether Dean would like to have a look at his little brother, he only shakes his head and says “No.” John laughs and grabs him nonetheless to hold him over the cradle of the newborn.
“So Dean, what do you think of your little brother Sammy?” John asks with a smile on his face, believing that this is one of the most wonderful moments in his life.
At first, Dean looks at the little creature lying in bed, sleeping peacefully. Carefully, he looks at the pink skin that seems especially dark on the chubby cheeks.
So, this is the new guy, the great, younger brother when all he wanted was a dog.
“Daddy, he’s ugly.” Dean eventually states coolly. “And look Daddy, there is no hair. I don’t think he’s finished yet.”
John laughs softly as he squishes his oldest son tenderly. “Yes, I see. Of course you were the prettiest baby to be seen.”
Dean quickly nods, a broad, boyish smirk on his young face (that same broad smirk that later should become his main weapon of seduction), making John laugh again.
“Let me see again, Daddy,” Dean demands, craning his neck to look once more into the cradle and at his sleeping brother.
Suddenly, the baby opens his eyes and for a second John fears that he’ll start crying, but he doesn’t. Instead, he focuses on the new face and - squeaks. Sammy squeaks as he looks at Dean who is still giving him a sceptical look, trying to assess whether he should tell Mommy and Daddy to keep the baby or whether he should tell them to give it back to wherever they got it from.
Sammy’s eyes are big and inquisitive as they focus carefully on his older brother, he doesn’t make any more sounds, but laughs wordlessly at Dean, laughs with his round eyes. It’s a loving laugh, one of those “I think I like you and I want to be your friend” laughs.
But there is something else, there is something else as those round eyes lay upon Dean. There is this warmth and kindness, even though Dean doesn’t know yet what the word kindness means. It’s a soft, dreamy look and the older Winchester brother can’t help but melt a bit.
That’s the moment when Sammy shows his unconditional and deep love for his brother for the very first time.
Little Dean can’t help but smile at Sammy, finally deciding to tell his father, “I guess, he’s a nice guy. You can keep him.”
John grins at his two sons, while softly rustling Dean’s blonde mop. “I’m glad to have your blessing, Dean.”
With finishing the sentence, he puts Dean down to bring him into his room and make sure the kids get enough sleep. But this is exactly the moment when little Sammy starts crying, exactly the moment when his older brother is brought out of sight. He cries with an incredible volume that makes Mary run from downstairs to check what’s wrong.
Quickly, she takes Sammy out of the cradle and when she asks John what happened, her husband can only answer that all he did was take Dean down to bring him to bed. As soon as Sam can look at his brother again, he stops crying but laughs once more with his eyes.
“I think, little Sammy’s in love,” John laughs.
How right he is.
Dean - sloth
After their mother’s death just a few weeks after Sam’s birth, their new life changes yet again.
As the years go by John moves his boys around the country, desperate to find the thing that took away his wife and mother of his children, making this frigging mess of his family. They never stay in one place longer than necessary and that’s when Dean finds himself set his priorities differently.
On the one hand, he’s driven by that promise he made to Sammy when carrying him out of the burning house all those years ago. The promise that he’ll protect Sam and take care of him no matter what, the promise that he’ll look after them, feeling it deep in his guts that he’ll need to do that.
Now, years later he understands what this’ll mean, understands that he - that they - need to know how to defend themselves with weapons - guns, knives, all kinds of stuff that could get someone, or something killed and that will save your own life.
On the other hand, he is proud that his father starts letting them help, that he teaches them how to use all those weapons that have become normal everyday-life objects for them and that he teaches them how to hunt and defend themselves.
He’s proud to be part of it and that it’s his turn to do something to seek revenge for his mother’s death and it calms him that this’ll also increase the chance to keep that one promise.
Of course, those new past-time activities make him neglect other things that normal boys have to focus on, but then Dean remembers that they’ve never fitted into normal in any way since Mary died 8 years ago.
It’s the third time this month (and the month just started) that one of Dean’s teachers calls, asking whether his Dad was there. Dean says that he’s sorry but Dad is away on a business trip (he doesn’t mention that he’s hunting some weird spirit somewhere outside Dillon, South Carolina) and that he won’t be back before the end of the week. Quickly, the teacher - his maths teacher and definitely least favourite - thanks him and tells him that he’ll call again by then.
Dean’s shakes his head, close to saying that there’s no need and that he knows anyway what this call is about and that he can tell Dad himself. It’s always the same old thing. His school results. It’s been like this ever since Dad started training him that Dean lost all interest in school and studying.
His teachers will say that he’s not stupid, but that he’s simply incredibly lazy and that he needs to start working harder and dedicate more time to his school work. Dean sighs, knowing how the conversation with Dad will go once John finds about the teacher’s call. He’ll tell Dean with a strict voice that he’s not in trouble and that the hunting lessons are important, but that he’ll have to concentrate enough on school to pass and not cause any problems.
As he hangs up the phone and turns around to walk towards the kitchen, in hope there’ll be something to eat, he sees Sammy stand in the doorway, looking at him with those big eyes, full of disappointment and accusation.
“Was that another teacher?” his little brother asks.
Dean hesitates a moment, pondering what to say and what not to say. He hates lying to Sam, his little Sammy, but he hates fighting with Sam over and over again about their life and all Sam wants is a normal life and be a normal family.
“No, it wasn’t. Want to order some pizza?”
Dean can’t even look at Sam when he’s lying to him like that.
Sam - diligence
Sam sometimes hates the life he’s living. Of course, he loves Dean, who has been his hero ever since the moment he first laid his eyes on his older brother, and of course, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere without him, because wherever Dean is, there is safety and safety is one of the things that eight year old Sam Winchester needs more than anything else.
But all he wants is a normal life, a normal family and normal friends. Dean is the only friend he has, basically because they never stay long enough in one place to make friends. Real friends. Actually, Dean’s the only person Sam can go to whenever he has a problem, when there is something he can’t figure out himself about growing up. There are things he’d never talk about with Dad and Dean is all he’s got. Sammy doesn’t mind playing with him in the afternoon, after he did his schoolwork and before Dad will force them to practice fighting again, it’s rather more that fighting part that bothers him.
He knows that Dean likes it, that it makes him proud and gives him this “We are Winchesters” feeling, but Sam detests it greatly.
That’s why he’ll try and find any kind of excuse to avoid it.
So far he’s joined the drama club, the literature club and the art club at his current school. And he can’t wait to start with chess and swimming as soon as possible. Basically, he’d do anything as long as he can stay longer at school and not come home early and give his father the impression that he’s having time for fighting lessons or any of this other weird lectures John gives the boys.
When there are no clubs to join, Sam will spend as much time as possible in the school library, doing further reading. He’ll read whatever falls into his little hands, anything really, but with a clear preference for history. It makes for a nice change to all the evil and supernatural creatures books that Dad insists the boys read.
Once Sam is through with American history, from the Pilgrims and the Mayflower to the most recent events, he dedicates himself to European history. He starts with Persia and Alexander the Great - strangely fascinated by Alexander and Hephaistion - followed by the ancient Egyptians and the pyramids. He reads as much as he can about the Greeks and their gods and goddesses as well as Rome and the emperors. King Arthur and his knights, the medieval age and the renaissance, leading to colonisation, the French Revolution and Napoleon, the Wars and the Cold War, to contemporary history.
Sam finds himself read those books over and over again, trying to soak up as much knowledge as possible - normal knowledge that is worth being had and not freaky facts such as how to dispossess spirits or how to kill zombies or werewolves.
His teachers take him aside every other week and recommend him certain books; they praise him for being such a hard-working and diligent student and tell him how much they wish more students were like him.
Sam smiles then, thanks them politely as he wanders off. College. That’s his dream. To go to college one day, lead a normal life.
When he tells Dean the first time about his plans, his brother only cocks an eyebrow before he says, “Dude, you’re totally nuts!” But when he sees the sad expression on his baby brother’s face, he gives him a soft nudge and drags him along the corridor the next moment and into the kitchen. Dean quickly opens the freezer, grabbing the big box of ice-cream and Sam understands immediately, taking two spoons out of the drawer close-by.
Sometimes Sam does not only hate his life, but also the fact that no one seems to take him seriously.
Dean - wrath
“What the fuck, dude? Say it again!” Dean spits at Sam.
It already had started bad when Sam told his family this morning that he’d need to talk to them in the evening. He said it in the voice that usually only John uses, when he’ll have to tell the boys that they’re going to move yet another time. Dean never minded much, but he knows that Sammy always did.
Now Dean’s so angry that he has to clench and unclench his fists in order to stop himself from punching Sam here and now in front of their father, who looks lethargically at his younger son. In this very moment, there are a million and one emotions boiling within Dean and the urge to hurt Sam in any way is strongest of them all.
“I said,” Sam states calmly, yet taking a few steps back from his enraged brother, “I said that I’m going to college. I’m leaving.”
Sam is 17, only a few weeks until his 18th birthday, but still he’s a few inches taller than his 22 year old brother. Dean knows that, should they start a fight now, it’s not clear who’s going to win, after all they’ve been trained by the same mentor, learned the same tricks how to defend themselves and how to hurt others.
“And there is nothing you can do. They already accepted me,” Sam continues with a soft hiss.
The way Sam speaks to him makes Dean even more furious, in his current state he believes to hear mockery in the way Sam talks, as if it gave Sam whatever kick to make his brother even angrier and provoke him. And then, when Sam adds that weird, wry smirk, Dean makes his move.
He’s just as fast as his father always told him to be in the moment of attack. With all his force, he grabs the hem of Sam’s white shirt to slam him roughly against the wall of the living room the next moment. Sam’s eyes spring wide open at the unpredicted movement and his head bumps against the wall. He whimpers a soft “ouch” but Dean doesn’t give a fucking damn. Usually, that sound would bring the “protect little Sammy” up to the surface, not this time though. Dean’s too enraged to think about anything but punching Sam.
“You little peace of shit,” Dean hisses through gritted teeth, “So you think, you’re too good for us? Us, your family, Sammy!”
With finishing the sentence one of Dean’s hand moves up to his brother’s face, squeezing his jaw roughly, hard enough to make clear tears fill Sam’s eyes. Sammy blinks them away, as he tries to struggle free, kicking out for Dean, desperate now, trying anything to get away, because it hurts so much.
It’s not only the physical pain, but also the pain that Dean doesn’t understand. Dean, the only one he thought that would understand.
But eventually, it is someone else.
“Dean, let go of your brother,” John states, almost matter-of-factly and Dean doesn’t believe his ears.
His father is telling him to get off of this bastard that’s about to run away, leaving them, betraying him. Dean stares at his father, speechless, but eventually he follows the order, taking a step away from Sam, who quickly starts rubbing his jaw.
“But Dad…”
“Dean, if he wants it, he can go.”
That’s the end of the discussion and Dean knows that there will be no point in arguing with their father. A father who resigned all those months and years ago, knowing that there is hardly any connection with his youngest son and that not letting him go will only make things worse.
But that’s an insight Dean still has not gained, instead he only snorts in disapproval. He doesn’t look at Sammy or Dad as he stomps out of the room.
Doesn’t want them to see the tears in his eyes.
Sam - patience
When Sam tells Dad and Dean in the morning that he’ll have to talk to them in the evening, he doesn’t feel very comfortable. Dad only nods at him, but Dean squeezes his eyes shut, showing Sam that he might not like what he’s going to hear.
Quickly, Sam excuses himself, says that he’ll be late for school and that he has an important test today that he cannot possibly miss. Dean and Dad came back late last night from a hunting trip and they’re probably happy to finally get some rest while Sam is off to classes.
Sam’s friends - well, the people he hangs out with at school - and even a teacher ask him whether he is ok, saying that he seems so absent-minded today. Throughout the whole day, he’s not able to help it. He simply can’t stop thinking about how he’ll tell his family - even if they’re freaks they are his family -that he’s planning to go to college and that he does no longer want to be part of this ghost hunting, road tripping madness and everything else that he’s hated so much.
On his way home he feels more at unease with each step that he comes closer to the rented house, Dad agreed to stay with them until Sam finished high school. On the doorstep he fidgets with his keys, nervously trying to insert them into the keyhole but only drops them. He curses and that’s when Dean opens the front door for him, with that broad, boyish smirk that Sam loves so much.
“I heard you coming, Sammy,” Dean smiles, showing perfect white teeth, his moss green eyes shining.
“Ah, thanks, dude.”
Sam quickly enters, tossing his bag and books into the next corner, before he gets rid off his jacket. Before Sam can react, Dean grabs him and pulls him close for a hug, because that’s what he always does when Sam comes home from school, mainly because Dean has been the one to do so instead of a parent for the last 17 years.
It never felt uncomfortable to any of them, neither the fact that Sam would sometimes snuggle close to Dean when they were lying on the couch, watching TV together or that Dean still, after all these years, would be the person to go to with any kind of problems.
When Sam, still being a toddler, needed to be fed, it used to be Dean to take care of that, when Sam would wake up in the middle of the night, crying because of a nightmare, it used to be Dean to tell him that it only had been a bad dream and that it was ok now. And then, also when Sam went through puberty, it was Dean who told him about everything.
Yet, the fact that Sam wants to go to college, that he couldn’t tell Dean, scared of the disappointment in his brother’s eyes. Until tonight.
Only recently Sam finds himself react a bit strangely - rather more his body and senses - whenever Dean is so ridiculously close, it’s consuming his thoughts. But that, Sam tries to shrug it off as his imagination going wild due to the fact that he hadn't had any action for a few weeks. After all, when Dean hugs him closely, his older brother doesn’t smell or feel any different than all those years. That’s what he’s trying to tell himself at least.
And maybe that’s just another reason why he has to go away to Stanford, get away from this family and sort out the mess that is his life, including all the inappropriate thoughts he lately seems to have.
“Sam! Sammy!”
Dean’s almost shouting at him now, still that broad, boyish smirk on his face.
“Huh, what?”
Sam excuses himself, having been lost in his thoughts and totally not noticing that their Dad came to join them downstairs, all Winchester men together in the living room in this awful moment of truth. Or factoid, rather more.
“Dad, Dean,” Sam pauses to lick his dry lips. He does it slowly, hoping this’ll give him more time to think how to bring his point across without hurting someone’s feelings too much. “I-I’m going to college. I’ll be leaving soon.”
Sam waits, waits whether there are any reactions, but there are none yet. That’s why he continues, well aware that Dean squeezes his eyes with that dangerous focus that he usually only has when hunting evil things.
“I’m going to college,” Sam repeats, “Stanford, California. I’ll be doing law.”
He speaks with a calm and soft voice, it’s almost patient. But secretly he only waits for the attack, the tirade from Dad who’ll tell him that this is impossible and that he won’t allow it.
It doesn’t come. Instead, John sits down on the old, shabby armchair by the window and stares at Sam without showing the slightest reaction on his face.
Dean does though. And how he does.
“What the fuck, dude? Say it again!” he spits at Sam.
And Sam does.
Dean - gluttony
The weeks pass and the day of Sammy leaving for college approaches. Dean finds himself in this weird state of confusion, feels an incredible tension build up within himself, within the Winchester family. A tension that he doesn’t know how to release, how to ease away. It drives him nuts.
Ever since Sam has told him that he’ll go to Stanford, leaving him behind with Dad, their relationship has cooled down. Sam says it’s childish and that Dean’s behaving like a brat, but Dean can’t help it. He can’t believe that his younger brother, the most important person in his life - even though he’d never be able to tell Sammy - is doing this to him.
He wishes things would simply go back to normal. Well, normal in a Winchester sort of way.
On the evening before Sammy leaving, Dean decides that he needs to go out, needs to go to some random bar, booze and maybe get laid, anything but spend the evening at home. He knows that it’ll probably upset Sam but it’s simply too hard and too much emotion for Dean to deal with.
Escape. That’s what he always tries to do when it gets too emotional.
Sammy only releases a little disappointed “Oh,” when Dean grabs the car keys, saying that he’ll be out the whole night.
Dean quickly finds a neat bar. He’d been here with Sam to celebrate his 18th birthday a few days ago because Sam asked him to have a drink with him, probably hoping it’ll make the ice between the brothers melt. Now, Dean orders whiskey, hoping that it’d ease the pain in his guts. He finishes the glass in one long draught. It immediately goes to his head, clouding his senses.
Dean orders another one and another one. He totally looses the feeling of how long he has been at the bar, he totally misses all the women that throw intrigued looks at him, trying to flirt. All he can think of is Sammy and Sammy leaving.
When Dean asks for another whiskey - he can’t remember how many he had already and he doesn’t really care - the bartender tells him that he’s had enough. But Dean disagrees and when he wants to express it, only babbled nonsense escapes his lips.
Dean gets up, trying to head for the toilet. As soon as he stands, he has to grab for the counter to steady his stance. Thank God, the guy sitting on the bar chair next to him is quick to react and to help Dean, preventing him from falling over.
Right, so he’s drunk. Right, so maybe he needs to go home now. Home. Drive. No, not a good idea.
Dean is back on the chair, that big, hairy guy probably helped him, and it takes him some time to figure out what to do next.
Call Sammy. Yes, calling Sammy is a good idea and tell him to pick him up, after all it’s Sammy’s fault.
In his current state it takes Dean five times until he manages to dial the right number.
“Dean, where the fuck are you?” Sam asks with a sleepy voice.
Dean can see him in his mind's eye, sitting in the bed, rubbing his eyes, his chestnut mop a total mess. He quickly explains to Sam where he is and that he needs to be picked up. Sammy grunts but eventually agrees to go out and get Dean.
It doesn’t take him long to turn up and Dean’s a little grateful for that because his head is spinning like mad now and he really needs to go to bed. Sam apologises to the bartender and everyone around Dean, in case Dean caused any trouble. They only laugh and say that he’s a funny freak who told them about ghosts and all that.
“Well, that’s my big brother,” Sam says with a wink.
Once outside, standing next to the Impala, Sam stuffs his hands into the pockets of Dean’s jacket to search for the keys. Dean grins wryly at him, a broad, drunken smirk.
“You’re so pretty.”
Sam’s eyes spring wide open as he hears Dean tell him, he’s pretty. Dean never said anything like that and Sam thinks he knows who is to blame.
“And you’re drunk, dude,” he chuckles.
Dean smirks even more as he tries to shake his head, but it looks rather uncoordinated and clumsy, due to the enormous intake of alcohol that night.
“You have beautiful lips, Sammy.”
With finishing the sentence, Dean bends over to kiss Sam softly on the lips.
Continued here