Devon99 - you write some amazing drabbles and after writing these, I fully appreciate that oooooh boy, sticking to 100 words is hard work. Anyway, I think I've cheated because these 5 drabbles are linked to form one story. Heck! Hope you still like them but more than that, I hope you have a fantabulous birthday. Liz x
Family's In The Blood and In The Heart by Blueeyedliz
When Dean is four-years-old he meets Sam for the first time. Sam is his opposite in almost every way. Sam is cotton-soft brown hair and huge curious eyes which peer out from a chubby baby face. Already so hungry for knowledge, he squeezes Dean's little finger in his plump fist and silently asks to be loved.
Sam is always making noise, gurgling or giggling and it makes Dean happy just to hear it. When Mom dies, Dad's too preoccupied to pay attention to Sam but Dean spends as much time as possible thinking up ways to make the baby smile.
When Dean is twelve he tells Sam the truth about monsters. The ones that Dad hunts, the ones in the closet and the ones under the bed which he always used to say were nothing more than Sam's over-active imagination.
Sam's afraid and sad and looks at Dad differently after that. He's lost his childhood, his air of innocence but refuses to talk to Dad about it. However, sometimes, late at night Sam admits to Dean that he hates the hunter's transient lifestyle. He tells Dean that he wants him to have normal.
Sam doesn't talk about what he wants.
When Dean is twenty, Sam's barely around anymore. He's forever making excuses to be doing anything other than hunting. Dean's angry; he wants them to stick together as a family. He wants to protect his brother, keep him safe.
Turns out Sam wants that too.
A poltergeist hunt in Mississippi goes bad. Dad's down for the count and Dean's bleeding from a head wound when Sam shows up. Dean doesn't see what happens, his vision's tunnelling in and out but he hears a piercing scream (not Sam's) and knows he's going to live through the night to see another day.
Dean turns twenty-one on the morning he wakes up in hospital. Dad's by his bedside. "Where's Sam?"
John's eyes are dark, edged with lines carved from sorrow which Dean never noticed before.
"Dean..." Dad says and Dean feels Dad's strong fingers gripping his shoulders, nipping bruises into his flesh.
"Where's Sam?" Dean asks again, voice more insistent and he's thinking of all the terrible things which could have happened while he was unconscious. "Where's Sam?" He's fiddling with his IV and tugs it loose before there's a sharp sting in his arm. He drifts away, still asking for his brother.
Dean rouses to a darkened room. Dad's standing by the window, his back turned to the bed.
"Sammy died in the fire when he was six-months-old, Dean. You know that."
Dean's floating on a morphine cloud but he knows his dad is wrong, wrong, wrong. He can see him now, Sam, leaning up against the wall. He looks exactly like he always does, seventeen and pissy, hair still dark and soft, eyes still huge and curious.
"No. He didn't." Dean whispers, too low for his dad to hear. Sammy would never leave me. He meets Sam's eyes and Sam smiles.