Disclaimer : Santa keeps missing them on my Christmas list so yeah …… they don't belong to me.
A/n : This is my first fan fiction story so be nice :D
"You can be the prince and I'll be the knight."
"C'mon, let's battle!"
"Will you always be my knight?"
"As long as you want me to, Sammy."
He can't help but stare, his darker eyes eating up his brother's face, devouring the reassurance offered by Dean's presence in the driver's seat of the sleek, black Impala.
He can't help but breathe in the quiet confidence of Dean's fingers on the steering wheel, so sure, as he guides the car to goodness-knows-where.
There's something so determined, so calm, so soothing about Dean's demeanor and he can't help but let it simply wash over him.
"As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen too you."
The words come back to him and his eyes tear over slightly, forcing him to draw his gaze away from the older man and look out of the window, at the fleeing landscape, instead.
He takes too much …. He knows that. Dean had literally thown away his childhood away far one brown-haired, puppy-dog eyed kid. And he repaid it by leaving him to go to college.
The word which had been a dream earlier now left a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd ditched Dean for college. No, of course, he'd done it only to spite their dad, but he'd ditched Dean. He came back, of course, but he'd ditched Dean.
His eyes tear up some more. Even that is out of control.
Meg used him to hurt to hurt Dean.
But it wasn't him … and he believes that now. It still didn't erase the fact that Dean had been shot in the shoulder, not to mention continually punched.
And even after all of this …. He still took. Against his will, a tear slips out from under his eyelashes and burns its way down his cheek. He just takes and takes and takes …. and then takes some more.
Now he's scared and feeling like a piece of shit. So he needs reassurance that after all the crap he's done , Dean still loves him enough to forgive him so - he doesn't want to - his gaze slips from the window ,once again to look at his brother's face……..
And he takes some more.
His eyes are heavy now and the tears are coming faster and he's so..so..scared…it's as if he's morphed from twenty three to three and he hates this taking but he doesn't even notice when his head lolls sideways.
He looks down at the brown-head resting on his shoulder in surprise. Sam didn't even seem aware of it. He was just lying there, making no attempt to move or start talking. He seemed content to just prop his head on his big brother's strong shoulder. Dean doesn't complain. He waits for Sam to talk but he doesn't seem to want to.
Finally, when Sam does talk, it's not a tear-racked, muffled voice but a clear one that says, "I take too much from you". But it's a broken, wearied, defeated voice which is just as bad and rips Dean's heart into two.
He wants to tell Sam.
Sam doesn't know about the brown-haired boy whose smile lit up Dean's world, Sam doesn't know about the kid whom Dean would die for.
He wants to tell Sam about the brown-haired boy who keeps him sane during the hunting, the boy whose dimples wipe away any wound of Dean's so that it doesn't scar, but he can't.
Instead, he removes one hand from the steering wheel and slips it around Sam's shoulders, tugging him closer, smiling as Sam snuggled in, telling him with actions what he couldn't say with words.
He was just glad that his little brother still needed his knight.
"Can I be your knight, too?"