At Least They're Talking

Stormy Hearts

A flash of lightning and the resulting clap of thunder pulled Dean from his restless sleep. His mind immediately jumped to Sammy, sleeping just feet away, on the other side of the wall. Chancing another beating for babying his brother, Dean snuck out of his room to put an ear on Sam's door.

The silence on the other side should have been reassuring, but Dean still chanced waking Sam up to open the door. Relief flooded through him when he realized that everything was fine.

Sam was ok.

--

On the night of the fire, Dean had gazed down into his little brother's eyes, and had made the whispered promise to always protect Sam.

That was why, on the night of the fire, when John was yelling at him to run from the house, Dean had made his way down the hall to the nursery, running to his brother.

At 4 years old, Dean was already putting Sam's safety above his own.

John was endlessly annoyed by this. Who knew that a man of The Lord could swear so much, or hit so hard.

--

Sam sat up, confused when he heard the slight click that meant the door had just been shut. Was someone in his room? Or had someone just recently vacated it?

His confusion cleared when he heard the slight groan of the bed through the wall. Dean still assumed that Sam knew nothing of the 'Guardian Angel-ism' the Dean felt towards his brother. He could still remember the first time he had woken up to the door shutting as his brother left. Although he would never admit it, it felt nice to have someone care enough to check on him.

Sam still hadn't told Dean that in Sioux Falls, the brothers were going to be sharing a room. Sam wanted it to be a surprise, but he also didn't want Dean to get angry if he ever found out that Sam had known and had kept it from him. Deciding to tell him tomorrow, Sam pulled his blanket more secure around his shoulders, and fell asleep.

His sleep was undisturbed by the constant pounding of the rain, and the exceedingly loud claps of thunder. Dean, however, wasn't so lucky.

--

The pounding of his feet against the pavement rang in his ears. Dean had to out run the man behind him. He looked like his father, but when his gaze had hit Dean from across the road, a look full of hatred had flashed across the man's face. Dean had not seen a look like that on his father's face since his mother had returned from surgery horribly scarred across her face. He would never forget the beating he had received for ruining his mother's face.

Preoccupied, Dean didn't realize he had been veering off course until the car hit him. He may sound crazy, but he could have sworn that the man driving the car was the same man as the one chasing him. The only difference was in their eyes. For a moment, the driver's eyes had been pitch black...