A little reflection on the bed nearest the door …

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my own addled mind.


It was always Dean's, the bed nearest the door.

Wherever they stayed, night after night in endless tatty motel rooms across countless empty miles, Dean became Sam's barricade; an impenetrable blockade separating Sammy from the bad things out there in the darkness; an immovable force.

Like a loyal guard dog placing himself in the face of danger without fear, question or second thought; an immovable force.

A sighing, snuffling, fidgeting, pillow kneading, foot twitching immovable force.

Evil never stood a chance.


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