Just a quick fic about a little conversation when Dean and Sam were younger comes true. Spoilers for "All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1"
It was Sunday morning, and the brothers were spending yet another period of time on their own while John Winchester, their father, hunted. The eldest was old enough to hunt with his father, but someone needed to watch Sammy.
"Dean?" Sam asked. The younger brother was going on 13, and he'd be going on his first minor hunt after his birthday.
"Yeah." 17 year old Dean Winchester loved his brother, but sometimes the never ending questions could go on and on.
"What would you do if I died?"
Dean's head snapped up from his magazine. "What kind of question is that?"
"I don't know. I was reading this book and these two brothers were really close and one of them died and ended up killing himself to be with the other." Sam said casually.
Dean blinked, and got up from the couch. He kneeled in front of Sam, who was sitting on the carpet. He placed his hands on Sam's shoulders, and looked at him straight in the eye.
"You will not die on my watch."
"But if I do…"
"You won't, Sam." Dean snapped.
"Fine. Then let's not speak of it as if its possible."
"That's what 'if' is for, Dean." Sam said, waggling his index finger. There was a pause.
"I would give everything to bring you back." Dean said quietly. "I promise you that, Sammy."
Now, years later, Dean was watching in slow motion as a black man gained on Sam with a knife.
"Sam, look out!"
He almost didn't believe it when the young man stuck the knife into Sam's back.
"NO!" he screamed, and he felt himself running as fast as his tired legs could carry him toward his brother, who was looking on the verge of collapse, staring blankly at the sky. Before Sam could fall to the ground, Dean reached him and the brothers fell to their knees. Dean clutched Sam's jacket, holding the severely injured man up.
"Sam!" Dean cried roughly, shaking him. Sam's eyes fluttered, looking glassy and unfocused. "Sam, hey! Sam."
His eyes closed, and Dean hugged his little brother to him. "Come here, let me look at you." He placed his hand on Sam's back, only to lift his hand to see blood all over his hand and oozing from the wound. Grunting, he lifted Sam off himself, looking into Sam's face.
"It's not even that bad, okay? It's not even that bad." Dean paused to see that Sam was no longer listening. "Sammy? Sam, hey, listen to me, okay? You're going to be good as new. I'm going to take care of you. I gotcha. It's my job right? Watch after my pain in the ass little brother." He was rambling now, holding his hands to Sam's face.
No answer. Sam's face was colder.
Frantic, Dean shook his brother, desperate, but he got nothing in avail. Realization kicked in. "No. No, Oh God…" Once again hugging his brother close to him, not willing to let go.
Sam was dead. He's gone. His only family….
"I'd do anything to get you back…I promise you."
He felt the tears itching behind his eyes, the sobs that threatened to rock his body that would rhythm his despair. Instead he rocked his dead brother what seemed like an eternity.
"SAM!" he yelled, and it ended with a sob. He buried his head into the dark locks of Sammy's hair.
"What if I died?"
"You're not gonna die on my watch."
"But what if I did?"