Is anyone else angsting over this latest episode? You can literally see the moment where Sam crushes Dean's heart. And he's done it so many times! Sam gets all uppity when Dean does one little thing [like kill Amy and lie about it], but let's be high and mighty when Dean sold his soul for Sam, and took him back after he whored himself out to Ruby, and so on...it just agitates me. It's like...Sam takes his brother for granted, and they just keep adding fuel to the fire instead of having Dean get something good for once. [Or, like Lisa and Ben, it just gets taken]. Gah. Anyway. Angst-writing. XD

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"I don't need you anymore."

It was the first time Sam had spoken the words, but not the first time he'd said them.

There was the night he ran off to college. Or that little stint in Flagstaff. There was the time he chose Ruby over Dean. The time he wanted to leave, just because. And those were just some of the highlights, there were plenty of small fish in the big ocean picture that was Sam's attitude.

"You can take care of yourself now."

Yeah. He could do that, and he'd been doing that. Dean had been taking care of himself, and Sam, and in a roundabout way-even John since he was a kid. The role of protector was ingrained into him, particularly with Sam. He still remembered the goofy, sniffling little kid Sam had been. And the somewhat bratty, brainy nerd of a little brother he'd become. And the bitchy teen who'd eventually left. And Sam, when they finally saw each other after four long damned years. And Sam, soulless, broken, hurting, pleading, aching, worn by Lucifer, going mental, telling Dean that he wasn't needed.

So if Sam, with his laundry list of problems, didn't need Dean...if Sam, his baby frigging brother, was just fine without him. If Sammy, the kid he'd practically raised, and took care of, and chased away nightmares for-didn't need him...

Then who did?

It wasn't so much that Dean needed to be needed. He was used to being alone, and shouldering burdens on his own. But Dean needed that one rock in his life: his family. His brother. The one person at the end of the day he could feel like a person with, like Dean again, and not just Dean Winchester: college drop-out, Hell-survivor, torture-apprentice, and cold-hearted hunter.

Lisa, for all her charm, couldn't give him that perfect sense of belonging. As much as he loved her, and Ben, it was like wearing someone else's skin. The Dean he'd been when Sam was in Hell-supposedly-wasn't Dean. It was the man he tried to be: for Sammy.

And there was Bobby...but Bobby was...well, a lot like John. Dean knew he could count on Bobby for anything, knew the guy would take a bullet for him, and Hell, he loved the guy like a father. But there was still reservation. Because like with John, Dean didn't want to disappoint, he didn't want to fail or be a burden.

And lastly, of those left 'living', was Cas. The nerd angel with his stupid-ass...not knowing any thing...and his lack of respect for personal space...Castiel was the first real 'best friend' he'd had. And Castiel had seen Dean in Hell, he'd been the one to 'grip him tight and raise him from perdition', and there was a lot Dean might do with Cas he wouldn't do with any one else. Or would have, except that Cas was gone now.

But none of them were Sam. None of them were his little brother. And none of them had ever relied on Dean the way Sam had, they'd never been so thoroughly dependent on him, and he'd never grown accustomed to having to take care of them that way.

Sam had seen him at his best [and-at least topside-at his worst], and he still wanted Dean by his side, still trusted him. Sam was the only person left alive who had seen Dean his whole life. Who remembered that once, Dean could smile and laugh easy, that once-he didn't have a mind scarred with memories of torture in Hell, that once-he hadn't completely failed his brother and father.

Once, Dean had been-if not a kid-happy. And Sam remembered that. He remembered Dean when he was whole, and that was enough to keep Dean from losing the pieces he had left. The crap-glue holding his little sticks together.

So for him to say that he didn't need Dean? When Dean's whole life had been built on a foundation of 'take care of your brother' ...for him to be able to walk away, again and again, like none of it mattered. Like Dean hadn't always given Sam the lion's share when they didn't enough food, like he hadn't had ungodly high fevers but taken care of Sam first, like he hadn't made sure the kid got a pat on his back for his stupid A+'s, like he hadn't sold his soul to save his brother...

It more than hurt. Hurting meant it dealt him in injury, to his feelings or whatever the Hell it was. But it wasn't like that. Dean was built on the need to be a big brother, to be a protector, to care for his family-Sam and otherwise-and taking away that vital block knocked the whole damn tower down.

But what the Hell did it matter? He'd deal with it-just like he always did. And maybe with some 'copious amounts of alcohol' thrown in. Just like Dad had dealt with it. Sam didn't need to know that his words, more than anything, made Dean want to just crawl into his shitty motel bed and not get back up again. Because the end of the world was knocking on their door again, and Sam was too busy playing footsie with Lucifer and trying to be independent to realize Dean was at the end of his rope.

There was only so many times he could his brother walk away. Turn his back on him. On every damned thing.

And there was only so many times he could rebuild that broken, fractured little tower inside of him-built at the core with the need to be a Winchester. A brother, a son, family.

But as Dean turned the music up a little louder, and kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead as Sam sat with his gaze focused on the scenery outside the passenger window-he realized that that too, didn't matter.

Dean wasn't going to quit, who was he kidding? No matter how much blood was on his hands, no matter how many times he had to bury a friend, no matter how many times he had to watch his little brother walk away-whether in word, or deed, even if he wasn't needed...

Dean still needed, needed to be the only man he'd ever learned how to be. He needed to hold on to that tender, fragile, strange little part of him that even Hell hadn't broken-that an outsider might label as 'unhealthy' or 'obsessive', but just fit in to the pattern of Winchester life.

Dean was a big brother, and even if his brother was a few glue-gobs short of a stick house, that wouldn't change.

Needed or not, Dean was going to take care of his little brother. And whether Sam knew it or not...That was how Dean took care of himself too. It was how he kept from drowning in that guilt, and the whiskey bottles, it was how he managed to keep getting up every morning. Truth was, Dean needed his little brother too...still-

Whether he admitted it or not, Sam wasn't okay, he needed help. And Dean was about all he had, and in the same way that Sam understood Dean-he understood Sam, so in a roundabout way...

Sam needed Dean, even if he thought otherwise.

And that was enough to keep him getting up in the mornings, to guard against the memories, to keep him fighting, to keep him feeling...human, and not so cold.

Sammy needed him.

And Dean wasn't the type of big brother to sit by when his little brother needed him.

That's not the Dean Winchester way.

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Mmm...so the fic was supposed to be a little darker, more bummed Dean-centric. But it's more hopeful at the end, I suppose. XD So it's mild, Dean-centric, slight fluff? Or something. Sam and Dean need each other, Dean's awesome-sauce enough to admit it [to himself] even if Sam won't. XD So...hopefully it was enjoyable. Leave me verbal hugs and such, and feel free to angst-rant right along with me. *cries for Dean* I lurve Sam too, don't get me wrong, but Dean just keeps getting the short end of the stick and it SUCKS. ;-; -Witchy~