The Best Thing To Happen To Dean Winchester

An eighteen year old Dean Winchester sat at his desk in his 12th grade class room, bored to death as usual. As the teacher announced their next assignment, Dean's face lit up due to the lightbulb that came on in his head. Dean had no question as to what the best thing to happen to him was. No, it wasn't receiving the impala or going on his first hunt. It was.....well I'll let Dean's essay do the talking.

The Best Thing to Happen to Me

By: Dean Winchester

There is no doubt in my mind now, or then, that this was the best thing to happen to me. I was four then. The cutest four year ever if I do say so myself. I was confused and excited as I sat in the hospital beside my smiling  father, who also looked like he was going dingo ate my baby crazy. He was excitedly telling me about my future baby brother or sister while at the same time pacing a hole in the floor. I remember being called into the room where my mom was. It was then that I first saw the best thing to happen to me. That thing was a tiny baby boy. As my mom announced his name was Samuel Winchester, I knew, even with my four year old mind, that he was my responsibility. I would always protect my baby brother. The best thing to happen to me. My little Sammy.

When Dean gave the paper to his teacher at her desk she made him stand by and watch her read it. Dean observed her smile, sniffle, and aww as she read his paper and, for what was probably the first time since kindergarten, he observed her write a red 100 with a circle around it for unnecessary emphasis in the top right corner of his paper. She handed it back to him and he neatly folded it four times and placed it carefully in the breast pocket of his jacket. As the years went on, Dean kept that paper. It was always in the left breast pocket on his jacket. Through Sam's demon blood addiction, his being possessed by Lucifer, his soullessness, and the many other problems the brothers had throughout the years, Dean always had that paper. When the nights would get rough and Dean felt more tired than usual, which is saying a lot, he would lay there with his head against the cheap motel bed's head board and just stare at the paper, not even reading for he knew it by heart. He would remember the good times he had with Sammy. The setting fields on fire with fireworks, successful hunts, and rocking out to Bon Jovi in the impala. Then he would reread those last 3 lines and remember that he couldn't just sit here. He had a job to do! He needed to get off his lazy butt and go protect his little Sammy!