Title: Never To Late

Summary: Somehow he would save Dean, if it was the last thing he did. Episode tag with lots of Weechester flashbacks

Episode Tag: Bedtime Stories

Quiet Moments Series: A series of oneshots taking place in the quite moments of the Winchesters' lives. Because sometimes the quiet times are as meaningful as the action

AN: The end of bedtime stories got me hopping and I just needed to write through my issues. haha. Soooo why not start a little more brother fluff/angst? Enjoy! Title based of the 3 Days Grace song

Sam was about six, back before it was taboo to call him Sammy, when he first stayed up all night. Dean was hurt, bad, and Sam didn't ever remember being as scared. He stayed by his brother's side long after their father thought he was asleep. Sam grasped his brother's hand and whispered reassurances he remembered Dean using the time he got that really bad fever. He whispered himself hoarse, exhaustion hung around the child like a blanket, but for once he didn't fall asleep. He couldn't, not while Dean still needed him.

He was thirteen when both Winchester boys ended up in the hospital after a hunt. Sam had a broken arm and some nasty lacerations across his chest, but that was nothing compared to Dean. The older brother was mottled with bruises, had a serious concussion, several broken ribs and a fractured kneecap. John was beside himself, dividing his vigil between his two sons equally, but he finally fell asleep in Sam's room. The youngest Winchester hadn't seen his brother since they were rushed into separate sections of the hospital. The thought of Dean being hurt and alone was too much for the teen, so as silently as he had ever been Sam snuck out of the room. It was hard to make his way through the hospital undetected, but not impossible. Nothing was to big an obstacle to keep him from Dean.

John found him the next day, perched beside Dean on the hospital bed. Sam was barely conscious, his pallor worse than the previous day. John was irate but he held his rebuke when he saw the tears pooling in those brown puppy dog eyes.

"He'll be ok won't he Dad?" Sam begged, because he had to know. Because nothing would ever be ok if Dean wasn't.

Sam was eighteen when he first knew he had to get out. The thought had been plaguing his mind for two years by then. He was going to college that much he had always been sure of, but he never expected their father's ultimatum. He'd thrown anger words right back at the older hunter, venom from years of being pushed around seeping into every word. He'd stormed up to his room and started packing right then, but he ended up throwing the half packed bag back into his closet and sank down on his twin bed. It would be easy enough to get to Stanford with the little money he had been able to put away over the years. Sam had a scholarship, so tuition wouldn't be a problem. There was only one flaw in his otherwise perfect plan. Dean.

How could he leave his brother? How could he leave the one person that had ever made him feel truly important, truly loved?

Sam stayed up thinking long after Dean fell asleep. He watched the rythmatic motion of his brother's breathing. He watched as the full moon cast silvery rays across the room, the light falling on both brothers.

Sam wasn't sure when his brother woke up. In fact, he wasn't sure if Dean ever really did wake up, but the question came none the less.

"You're leaving aren't you?" the words were little more than a murmur. Sam watched as his older brother turned over, eyes still shut and breathing again slowing as if he had never spoken.

That was the day before Sam left for college.

Sam was twenty-two when Jess died. After being with her for a year and a half he honestly didn't know how to function without her. Now he was back on the road with his brother. Insomnia was a part of his life then. Some night he would sit up and watch Dean sleep. With his future so riddled with mystery, that small connection to his past was comforting. He never let Dean catch him—after all pretending to be asleep was not below a younger brother—but somehow the older Winchester always knew. That was one more thing that was familiar and comforting.

Sam was twenty-four when Dean made the deal. Sam had been trying everything to break Dean free of his bargain, trying to save his big brother. Dean told him not to, but how could he ask that of Sam? How could Sam not try?

Sam watched his brother sleep yet again, tears glistening in his eyes. He had the colt now, he had a plan. Dean was right, there were a lot of "ifs" and "maybes" but he had to try.

So with one last look at his sleeping brother, Sam snuck out of the room. His heart pounding, his mind set.

Somehow he would save Dean, if it was the last thing he did.