Title: Why Can't I?
Characters: Dean, Sam (Dean's p.o.v.)
Spoiler warning: none; just getting into Dean's head
Disclaimer: The guys don't belong to me, as much as I wish they did. Makes me sad.
He knew it was a dream as soon as it started. Nothing in his waking life was anything like this, but the feelings rushing through him were ones he'd secretly wanted to have for years now, and he'd never considered them possible, or that he was worthy of them.
He watched himself kneel before a woman, a woman he loved with all his heart. He lifted his hands and cupped them around her large, swollen belly, filled with their child, and leaned in to kiss the mound. As he did so, she reached out and ran her slender fingers through his hair, lovingly caressing his head as he nuzzled her maternal curves.
All at once, he was no longer watching but was himself kneeling before her, feeling the warmth of her skin under his hands. He looked up at her, and the love he saw radiating from her deep brown eyes filled him, and he felt love for her and their child in return.
For so long, he'd told himself he couldn't have this. The life he and Sam led didn't allow them to have families of their own. Just looking out for each other's backs was often more than they could handle, and yet he found himself wanting this...wanting to settle down and have a family and a home and, God please...peace.
When he woke up, Dean lay there in the darkness. He barely noticed the soft sounds of his brother sleeping on the other bed, and soft moonlight filtering in through the curtained window across the room. All he was aware of for a few minutes was the fact his face was surprisingly wet. He reached up to swipe the dampness away, and scoffed at himself for being such a girl. He tossed his blankets aside and rose from the bed to go into the bathroom, and after closing the door, turned on the light and looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and glassy, and it pissed him off.
That life's not for you, Winchester. Your life is traveling the country with Sam, never settling in one place for longer than a week or so at most. Your life is dirty, bloody and lonely, and you know that's the best it'll get. Get over it.
Still, he couldn't help but wish for what he'd had in the dream. A love he could call his own. A wife. Children. A home. Is it too much to ask to be able to have what so many other people have and take for granted?
Dean turned the faucet on and splashed water on his face and through his hair. He looked back at himself in the mirror, water droplets plopping off his eyelashes and chin into the sink, and all he could see was the images from the dream; the look of love in her eyes, the sensation of the baby inside her moving against his palm. The knowledge that he could have this, and that he was as worthy of it as anyone else.
"Dean? You ok?"
Startled, he turned around and saw Sam standing in the doorway, his hair a mess and his eyes blinking from the over-bright light. "Yeah. I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep."
Sam ran a broad hand through his hair and shrugged. "'Kay. Just wondered. Need anything?"
Dean smiled softly at his sleep-wrinkled brother. "Nah. Go back to bed."
Sam nodded then turned and went back to his bed, and within minutes was snoring softly.
Dean sighed and, turning off the bathroom light, returned to his own bed. He slipped under the covers and laid there, his head cradled in his clasped hands, and let the images from his dream flit through his mind. The last thoughts that went through his mind before dropping off to sleep were Why can't I have that?