Guess what day it is? Comment-fic day!

[ratherastory]

Once again, it's everyone's favourite day in Supernatural: May 2nd! You know what that means, right? Time to hurt Sam! ;)

You know the drill, right? Allow me to post a refresher:

Comments

[thoughtyouknewr]

He felt guilty as soon as he had done it.

Sam didn’t deserve that. It had been years ago, and, yeah, Dean felt perfectly justified being angry about secret keeping, but he shouldn’t have punched his brother.

He was more than prepared to apologize, except he wasn’t given the chance.

Sam wailed and fell back on his butt before bursting into tears.

And now he was pretty sure he was in some form of shock, and he had made Sammy cry.

It was Sammy, too, not Sam.

Dean could tell the difference.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, dropping to his knees and wrapping Sam in a hug. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m sorry.”

Sam continued to cry, but uncurled himself and latched onto Dean instead.

“’M sooooooooory!” he wailed.

“No, it’s my fault,” Dean refused. “I didn’t like what I saw on that sheet. You wanna tell me what that’s all about?”

It was uncomfortable to be sitting on the floor with his huge little brother practically in his lap, but he had to know this. Had to know what prompted Sam to write over and over and over how he wasn’t worth the air he took to breath.

“Was a long time ago,” Sam tearfully explained.

“That’s ok, I still want to know,” Dean told him.

“It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. It was supposed to be a list of things I did wrong so I would remember not to do them again,” Sam vowed as though it was of great importance for Dean to understand this.

Dean passed one hand through Sam’s hair while the other massaged up and down his baby brother’s spine.

“I don’t know what happened. I just wanted to remember. The next thing I knew, I was filling books with lines telling me how worthless I was,” Sammy continued distantly.

“I wasn’t gonna stop. I didn’t plan to. But Jess found out about it and said it wasn’t healthy. She wouldn’t let me have paper unless it was for school,” he smiled a little faintly.

“I think it was too late, though. I wrote in them for so long, De,” he sighed as he finished.

“How long?” Dean questioned much more gently.

“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “I think I started at about fourteen, but I know I stopped when I was nineteen.”

Dean felt like he had been the one punched.

Five years. His brother had written every degrading and self hating think he could think of for five years.

“Well then,” he declared, thinking aloud. “I guess we’ll just have to spend five year fixing it too.”

“Hmm?” Sam inquired, sniffling wetly and rubbing his face into Dean’s shirt.

Normally, this would’ve irritated Dean. He was far to busy planning things out to worry about it, though.

“Up,” he urged, carefully tugging Sammy back to standing.

[thoughtyouknewr]

He ushered Sam over to a bed, then collected a pen and a new notebook.

Sitting down next to his baby brother, he shoved both items into Sammy’s hands.

“What-?” Sam trailed off.

“You are going to do exactly the opposite of what you were doing before,” Dean ordered.

Sam tilted his head to the side, looking confused.

God he was adorable. It wasn’t fair that he looked like a five year old like that. It just wasn’t.

“You're going to write lines about how good you are instead of how bad you are,” Dean clarified. “For example, you're going to write ‘I am not worthless’ three hundred time before we go to bed tonight.”

His little brother went bright red.

“I can’t do that, De. Do you have any idea how conceited that sounds?” he objected.

“Sam, if you know what's good for you, you're going to start writing now,” Dean threatened.

When Sammy still looked reluctant, Dean figured he should add something to that.

“I can think of several things I would’ve had you do if I found out about this when you started it. You probably would’ve found you skinny little butt planted in a corner until I clamed down enough to deal with you, for one thing. I’m also thinking you wouldn’t have been sitting quite as comfortably as you are now. If you wanna go in that direction, I wouldn’t mind,” he stated.

He actually would mind, but Sam had never called him on that kind of bluff before.

“Fine,” Sam muttered, actually pouting as he lowered the pen to the page.

Sam pouting should be illegal. It really should.

Dean still felt guilty as hell. Not only had he missed this before, but he had also punched his baby brother.

But it would be alright.

He would make this better.

He had to.

end.
Hope you liked it.

[bazunga]

Awww! That was amazing! Thank you.