Where Do Nightmares Come From?

Summary: Sam's having trouble with his homework and asks his brother a simple question. But that simple question brings up a conversation Dean never thought he'd have to have. Oneshot, preseries.

Dean is 17, Sam is 13.

AN: I fell in love with making oneshots. So much more simple than making up an actual plot... Though I'm working on one. I hope you guys like this one.

Disclaimer: Nothing but the mistakes are mine...


Sam frowned. It was a simple question. So simple he could just make up an answer to it. But still, it bothered the hell out of him. Not only that he couldn't make up an answer but that he really didn't know.

"Sam, dinner!" came from downstairs. Sam got up from the chair he was sitting on, thinking that food could actually help him think. "Finished your homework?" Dean asked as Sam came downstairs. He was on his father mode, as John was out of town on a hunt.

"Almost", Sam answered and sat down.

"Almost? Dude, you've in your room for two hours. How can you not be finished?" Dean asked. He placed a plate of tomato sauce and spaghetti in front of Sam and sat down himself.

"There's just this one question that keeps bothering me. Dean, where do you think that dreams come from?" Sam asked. Dean raised his eyebrowns, mouth full of food. He swallowed and thought for a second.

"Don't really know. I do remember someone mentioning that people sort out the events of the day in their dreams", he said.

"Okay, but what about nightmares? Where do nightmares come from? I mean, if what you said is true, I should be dreaming about werewolves and stuff but only thing I have nightmares of is clowns..." Sam realized his mistake a second too late. Dean looked at him, a fork halfway to his mouth.

"You're scared of clowns?"


"Why would you have nightmares of them if you're not scared of them?"

"Just answer the question, Dean!"

"You answer mine first!"

"I already did."

"Yeah, but you were lying."

"So if you know I was lying why do I have to answer?"

"Cuz I want to hear you admit it."

"Whatever", Sam said and turned back to his food. Dean sighed.

"Honestly, Sam... I think people have nightmares cuz they don't want to deal with their fears when they are awake", he said. Sam turned to look at him.

"You think so?"

"Yeah. I mean, it makes sense. Only few people think about... falling from a roof or being bitten by a vampire while they're awake, right?"

"It does make sense", Sam admitted.

"Of course it does, I came up with it!" Dean said.

"Yeah..." Sam said, not really paying attention. "So what do you have nightmares about, then?" he asked.


"What do you have nightmares about?" Sam repeated.

"I don't remember my dreams", Dean said, turning quickly back to his food.

"Now you're lying", Sam accused.

"How would you know?" Dean asked.

"Come on, Dean! Just tell me. What're you afraid of?" Sam turned on his puppyeyes which Dean determindedly refused to look at. He just kept eating his food and reading some random article from the newspaper that was on the table. Sam may have believed that Dean was actually reading it, if the article wasn't about ballet. "Does it involve anything supernatural? Like vampires, werewolves...?"

"Sam, would you cut it out? Forget what I said, okay? And I don't remember my nightmares. I hardly remember any of my dreams!" Dean said.

"Not even one?"

"A couple. But they include stuff that I don't think Dad would like you to hear", Dean said.

"Dad ain't here", Sam pointed out. Dean groaned.

"I don't remember my nightmares, okay? And I'm not scared of anything. For heaven's sake, aren't little brothers suppose to think that their big brothers are superheroes or something?" Dean said.

"Yeah, when they are five!" Sam said.

"You thought I was a superhero when you were five?" Dean asked, mostly cuz he wanted to change the subject.

"Maybe..." Sam said quietly, his cheeks turning a bit more red than they had been. He knew he would not be able to make Dean answer honestly to his question so he decided to let go. For now, anyway.

"Aww, well... Can't blame ya, really", Dean said, smiling cockily.

"I was five, what did I know?" Sam said.

"Ouch, that hurt", Dean said, faking a hurt face. "But seriously, Sammy, I think there could have been a bit more better people than me for you to look up to." Sam's face turned confused.

"Why'd you say that?" he asked. "I still look up to you", he admitted, blushing a little more.

"Oh, come on, Sam! Shouldn't you be looking up to some rockstar or actor at this point?" Dean said, clearly uncomfortable with this situation.

"Why would I look up to some action hero who really doesn't know anything about anything? You kill evil and you're real and most importantly, you're sitting right there in front of me", Sam said.

"Well, you can't really go to school and tell proudly to everyone: hey, guess what, my brother just killed a polthergeist yesterday, isn't that cool? Besides, you've had your share of evil son of a bitches."

"Dean, I've burned one bones", Sam said. "And I don't have to tell anyone. One day when I have kids and neices and nephews I can just tell them ab..."

"Wow, wow, wow, slow down! One day when you have what now?" Dean asked.

"Kids. I can just tell them about you", Sam said.

"You said neices and nephews, too", Dean said.

"What, you're not gonna have kids?" Sam asked, his eyes wide. Dean looked at him, shocked and in disbelief. How how how had this chat come to this?

"Uh, never really thought about it." he admitted, shaking away his shock.

"You're gonna lie to me about this, too?" Sam asked. He looked honestly hurt that his brother didn't want to share this kind of stuff with him. "Why do you have to keep it to yourself, Dean? It's not like I'm gonna tell Dad or something. And you always listen to me! Could you just tell me one honest thing about you that I don't know", Sam pleaded. Dean looked at him, weighing his options. He could tell some insignificant detail, like having a crush on someone when he was seven, or he could tell something big and embarrasing or he could keep on lying. Oh, for heaven's sake, this would be the only this kind of conversation he and Sam would never have (Dean would make sure of that), maybe he should just play along. Just this once.

"I don't think about having kids cuz I don't want them to get caught in a cross-fire", Dean said, very fast.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Sam, I'm a full time hunter, that's my life. But I don't think it would be fair for the kids to force them to grow up like me. I'd want them to have a normal life and that is something I'd never be able to give them." I want you to have a normal life but that is something I'm never gonna be able to give you.

"So... you're never gonna stop hunting? To meet a girl and get married. Go to college?"

"You want me to go to college?" Dean asked.

"Well... You never know, you could meet the girl of your dreams there. And I could visit you..." Sam added the last part so quietly Dean almost missed it. Almost.

"Newsflash for you, kiddo. I'm not going anywhere. Now, if you're done with your dinner, I suggest that you go finish your homework before my brilliant ideas leave your head."


The house was quiet. Dean was sitting on his bed, cleaning his favourite gun. It was a schoolnight, yes, but Dean didn't really care. The thoughts of the earlier conversation kept him too alert to even think about sleeping. What do you have nightmares about? What're you afraid of? Dean shivered. There were only two things in this world that he was afraid of and the other one he would never admit. The other one was really simple: either Sam or John getting hurt. Well, of course they had been hurt many times, but Dean was afraid that one day they'd get so hurt there'd be no coming back from it. That was what he was most afraid of.

A quiet moan from the other room made Dean shake away his thoughts. "Sammy?" He got up from the bed and tiptoed to Sam's room. "Sammy?" Sam was clearly asleep, though he was tossing and turning. Dean noticed the sweat on his brother's forehead. He went to the bed and kneeled down next to it.

"Sammy! Sam, hey, it's just a dream. Come on, bro, wake up. It's okay, just wake up for me, okay?" Dean shook Sam a little until his eyes snapped open.


"Yeah. A nightmare, huh?" Sam nodded. "A bad one?" Sam swallowed as he nodded again. "Will you be okay now?" This time Sam didn't nod. He looked at Dean, silently praying him to stay. He knew it was childish, he knew it was stupid but he couldn't help it. Dean sighed dramatically. "Just 'til you fall asleep. Move over." Sam smiled a little and made Dean space in his bed. Dean lied down on his back, folding his arms behind his back. He felt Sam coming as close as he could without it being embarrasing. Dean looked around the room, still too awake to fall asleep. Suddenly he saw a McDonald's bag filled with dirty clothes in the corner. The smiling Ronald McDonald was covered with black magic marker. Dean wondered how he had never noticed that before.

"Man, you really are scared of clowns..."


The end

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