My Brother

Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I'm not making any money from them. I'm sure spending a lot because of them though!

A/N: This is just something that came to me over the last few days. It's the shortest thing I've done in a while. Hope you like it; feel free to let me know!


Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero - Marc Brown


I love my brother, really I do. I don't always understand him, though.

I know how hard it must have been for him; how hard it must still be. Our dad made it his responsibility to look out for me and Dean was always there. From the earliest time I can remember, he was there. He played with me, he watched TV with me, he fed me, and he trained me. Dad taught him to fight and to use weapons, and then Dean taught me.

We've never really talked about it, but I don't think Dean minded having to look out for me. He still does it now, even though I'm 23 years old. Of course, it's not like we live normal lives. We hunt evil and risk our lives all the time. It's a dangerous gig, but Dean puts himself in harm's way to protect me. I've saved his ass a few times, too, though.

He and I are a lot alike, but very different at the same time. Take sex, for example. Dean's favorite way to come down after a successful hunt is to have a few drinks and bed some random woman. Maybe I'm weird for a guy, but I want to feel a connection before I have sex. I wasn't a virgin when I met Jessica, but damn close. And since she died, there's only been Madison and look how that turned out. I was close with Sarah, but Jess' death was still too fresh. Dean tries to push me at women, but he doesn't get that wouldn't make me feel any better. If anything, I'd feel worse. Sometimes, though, I think he does understand that about me.

My brother isn't stupid. He completely rebuilt the Impala by himself after the crash and the car, she, runs better than ever. He's good with electronics. I gave him crap, but I thought the EMF meter he built was pretty cool. He doesn't think I know, but he got straight A's in math all the way through school. Sometimes, though, he acts like a six year old and it irritates me. I guess it shouldn't since there are so few times he can completely relax. He's always worried about the job, money, getting caught… me. Dean's had to be an adult since he was way too young, so I shouldn't begrudge him a few minutes of childhood.

God, that crash. I thought I was going to lose Dean and I don't know how I would have handled that. I was watching him in the hospital bed, hooked up to all those machines, and I felt him. The only way I could think of to communicate with him was a Ouija board and it worked. He said a reaper was after him and I went to Dad for help, but he was gone. I still don't know for sure where he went, but I have an idea. He was making a deal with the yellow-eyed demon for my brother's life. The greatest gift my dad ever gave me was Dean. I hate that he had to give himself up, but if I'd had to choose, and God forgive me, I would have chosen Dean. I loved my dad; I still miss him. But he wasn't there as much as Dean was.

I watch him sometimes. In the car, when he thinks I'm asleep, or in a motel room during a movie. Even when he's supposedly relaxed, he's tense. He always seems to be on alert and that can't be good for him. I worry about that. Sure, the faith healer fixed his heart, but the job is dangerous and he doesn't always look before he leaps; especially if he's leaping in front of me to keep me safe.

He also tries to be tough and he acts like nothing gets to him. I know that isn't true. I've seen his eyes when he talks about Dad. He finally told me why he'd been acting like such an ass after Dad died and, God, seeing him cry really got to me. I know he isn't Superman, but he's always been my big brother. He's always been the strong one and even though I know he feels things just like everyone else, seeing him cry broke my heart. He was right, too. There was nothing I could say to make it better, so I didn't even try. I just sat next to him until he was ready to go.

They say that a person's eyes are the windows to the soul and, if that's true, sometimes Dean's soul is a really scary place. He can communicate a million words without ever speaking; his eyes say it all for him. I know when he's hurt or angry with just one look. He tries to hide a lot of his emotions from me, but a brother knows. I do, anyway. He told me about almost making a deal himself. He was nearly willing to trade his soul to bring Dad back. The demon at the crossroads told him Dad was suffering; I know demons lie and I really hope this one was.

I know that he's scared he won't be able to save me from whatever fate Dad warned him about and that he might have to kill me. I begged him not to let me become something I'm not; I made him promise. I shouldn't have done that. I should have just trusted that he'd do the right thing, because Dean always does the right thing. He'd never let me hurt if he could help it and he knows that if I turn evil, the real me will be in pain.

Looking back, I think I must have let him down a lot, but he never brings it up. He won't talk about when I left for Stanford. Maybe I was being selfish, especially considering what I know now about the demon and about Dad, but I was just feeling suffocated. I didn't want to live in one rundown place after another anymore. I didn't want to hunt. I just wanted to be normal; whatever that is. I didn't think about how my leaving would affect Dean. I didn't know that he and Dad came to Stanford to check on me. I don't know why I was so blind. Dean would never let me down.

Dean once said it scares him what he's willing to do for me or Dad. He was talking about a demon-possessed man he'd killed earlier in the day, without even stopping to think, because it was beating the hell out of me. He didn't think about the person trapped inside. Well, it scares me what he's willing to do, too. Not so much that he's willing to kill for me, but more that he's willing to die for me. I've told him that I'd die for him, but that's different. That's me. I owe him my life; he's already given me his.

Back in Oregon, when we thought I'd been infected by that demon virus, Dean locked himself in a room with me and, no matter how much I begged him, he wouldn't leave. I wanted him to give me my gun so I could end it and just get out of there. I wanted him to be safe.

Right after Dad disappeared and Jessica died, I stayed with Dean because he wanted me to. I wanted to find our dad and hunt down the thing that took Jessica, but I really stayed for Dean. Now, I think, he stays for me and I don't know what to do with that. When we were locked in that room, he said he said he was tired of the lifestyle. That was me when I ran away to Stanford, but he's not running away. He begged me to lay low when he finally told me Dad's secret about me, but when I refused, he stuck by me. See? He's already given me his life. I don't know what will happen to him if he has to kill me. I try not to think about that because it hurts too much. Maybe I am selfish, but I just don't want to be evil and I need my big brother to keep that from happening. One way or another, it can't happen.

Dean is loyal. I know that makes him sound like a puppy, but take, for example, when our dad's friend, Deacon, needed help with a ghost in his jail. It didn't matter to Dean that the Feds and local law enforcement all over the country is after us. What mattered was helping a friend. So we got ourselves arrested and sent to Deacon's jail. Dean fit in damn well and that bothered me a little bit. But he's used to have to scrape to get by and doing it in prison is no different than anywhere else, so I guess it makes sense. I can tell you one thing; I sure as hell don't want to end up in jail. I'll admit that I was a little scared, but even there, Dean took care of me.

We don't have a lot of friends. We never have, really, but there were people who were like family. Pastor Jim and Caleb. Dad used to leave us with Jim when we were little. The three of us sometimes stayed with him, too. Caleb wasn't much older than Dean, but Dad trusted him to take care of us a few times. The demon that possessed Meg's body killed both of them. Dad was on the phone with Caleb when the bitch cut his throat. But we still have Bobby. We didn't know him very well because he and Dad had a falling out – that happened a lot with our dad – but he's like family now. I thought we had Ellen, but now that we aren't sure who betrayed us at the Roadhouse, we're more careful with her.

Speaking of the demon that possessed Meg; we exorcised it, but it crawled out of Hell and came after me. I still don't know everything I did, and I probably don't want to, but I know some of it. I killed a hunter and that will come back to bite me in the ass. There are probably other hunters like Gordon; ones think my visions make me something to be hunted so my killing one of us will be all the proof they need. Dean will try to protect me, but he's not invincible. If nothing else, Dad's death proved that. I thought it would destroy him, but slowly, he's letting me help.

He's tough as they come, but Dean tried to be understanding about Jess and, later, about Madison. When she realized she had to be killed, Madison asked me to do it. I didn't want to, but I knew I had to. Dean offered to do it for me, but I knew this was one time that I couldn't hide behind him. He had to pull me out of that room after I did it, just like he pulled me from the fire that killed Jessica.

I don't think we ever had a real vacation before, but after Madison, Dean took me to Hollywood so we could do the geeky tourist things to keep my mind off of her. Of course we ended up on a haunted movie set; nothing is ever easy for us.

Dean wormed his way into being a PA and I saw what a good time he was having. It was another one of those times he acted like a six year old, but, like I said, he deserves a few minutes of childhood. When I needed him to be a hunter, though, he turned on a dime and went into hunter mode. The guy is good. Of course he is. He's Dean.

I have to remember to try to take some things off his shoulders, or, at least, not add to the load that's already there. He'll let me pile it up as high as I can and the weight will crush him before he tells me to stop.

Huh. Maybe I understand him more than I thought I did.

But whether I understand him or not, he's my brother and I love him.