His smiles (gen or wincest if you squint)
I forget sometimes that you didn’t have the chance to be a kid. I forget that you sat at a real table, in a real kitchen, eating homemade food. I forget that you had a room, a mother and a father. A house.
You had it…and it was taken away from you.
I remember when we played together, when we were kids, I remember how much we laughed together…how you always came up with new games…how the Impala became a spaceship, or a boat, or a dungeon. It stopped when you stopped being a kid, when dad told you about the hunts, the monsters. It stopped when you had to learn how to use a gun, a shot gun.
You love what you do…it’s who you are, Dean…it’s in your blood…in mine, but I had forgotten how much you smiled. I tease you, I give you hell…because it’s what brothers are supposed to do. Truth is I had missed your smiles, I had missed how carefree you could be, how you could forget about the things we see, the blood we shed, and just enjoy yourself.
And if I’m smiling alongside with you, here…if I’m happy…it’s because your enthusiasm, even after all we’ve been through is contagious. I wish I could preserve that…
So I can give you hell and tease you and roll my eyes and act like the older brother…but we both know the truth.
I live for those smiles.