Title: Tell Me We'll Never Get Used To It

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for this night... just like whatshisname, Marky-Mark? Haha, jk. Nothing, but Eric Kripke does, because he is more deserving than anyone. And Richard Silken, from whom I borrow the inspiration for this drabble.

Summary: Tell me a dream, Dean, Sam asks... and there's nothing left to do but lie to him, however he can.

Characters/Pairings: wee!Dean, wee!Sam

Notes: a drabble in intention only, quickly inspired and written. The idea just spoke to me. Apparently I cannot stray far from my one-shots. All verbal credit goes to Richard Silken, and SecretlytoDream, who crafts the most beautiful visual moments of the Winchester life.

Word Count: 246

Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
and dress them in warm clothes again.

Tell me a dream, Dean, Sammy begs and pleads and cannot be persuaded otherwise. Because the night has grown long and dark and Dad is nowhere to be found unless you were to search the beer bottles he's left at attention around the living room.

So Dean crawls in, and cradles his brother in his arms. Because there's nothing left but to lie to him, however best he can.

Dean tells his a brother a story. A wonderful story, as great as his traitor tongue will allow. Something hopeful for a five-year-old. And that's something Dean never had the good fortune to be dealt: hope, it's denied him so many years, and will perhaps forever. But not Sammy. Not if Dean can help it.

The story is wonderful and wild. And in it they are grown. In it, they are heroes. Because Dean can't think of anything better. But there's nothing better Sammy would have.

So he curls up under Dean's protective arm and waits for the dreams to come. The ones that will take flight off Dean's words and soar among the stars too far away for Sammy to wish upon. He waits for the glimpse of a better life, and a different fate.

And in his dream, they are heroes. In his dream, they save everyone.

Because they cannot save themselves.