Supernatural One-Shots

5 Things Dean does for Sam that No One Else Can

2. Comfort him after nightmares 

Sam is 10, Dean is 14 

John is sleeping on the couch after a long hunt. It's not the most comfortable but Sam and Dean are already sound asleep in their beds and John didn't want to wake either of them. 

A loud scream pierces through the air and John wakes up immediately, grabbing the knife from his pocket and standing up from the couch. After blinking a few times he notices Sam breathing rapidly and sitting straight up in his bed. Dean is sitting in his bed eyes wide still trying to figure out what is happening. 

John slips the knife away and walks over to his youngest son. When he gets closer he notices tears on Sam's face and his heart breaks just a little bit. The father sets one hand on the little boy's shoulder. "It's ok Sam," He whispers, not quite sure how to handle the situation. 

Sam doesn't stop crying. Shit. John tries to think back to what Mary used to do when he had nightmares but came up with nothing. John awkwardly pats the ten-year-olds shoulder, "It's ok," he says again hoping Sam will stop. 

After a moment of agony, John feels a hand on his own shoulder and looks back to see his eldest son. Without a single word, John understands. He steps away from his historic son and watches in astonishment as Dean sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Sam into a hug, rubbing his hand gently over his brother's back. 

"It's ok, Sammy. I got you," Dean whispers so quietly, John could hardly hear him. After a few quick moments, Sam is back to sleep, laying peacefully against Dean's shoulder. A small smile crosses the oldest brother's face. 

A weird mixture of pride and hurt punches John in the gut and it's so overwhelming, he falls back onto Dean's now vacant bed. 

3. Patch up his wounds 

Sam is 14, Dean is 18

Sam sits at the kitchen table biting his lip and holding a piece of cloth over the bad cut on his chest. He shivers from the air of the cool hotel room touching his bare chest. Dean is in the shower and John is grabbing the medkit from its spot. 

Not too much time passes before John shows up again in front of his son the medical kit in hand. "Move the towel," he demands. Sam follows his orders but can't help the small whimper as he sees John wetting a clean cloth with disinfectant. 

"It's fine, dad. It's not that bad really. You don't have to do that. It hardly even hurts," Sam lies in an attempt to get his dad to not put the cloth on his open wound. Sam winces from talking and his dad just glares at him. 

The bathroom door opens and Dean walks in with wet hair, dressed in old clothes. "I got it, dad."

John can't help but flinch as Sam sighs in relief. He doesn't object as Dean walks over and grabs the cloth from John's hands. 

"Knock knock," Dean says. 

"Whose thier?" Sam replies. 

Dean finishes the joke at the same time he gently presses the cloth over the large cut. Sam hisses but doesn't move away. 

"See that wasn't so bad, Sammy." 

John just watches with his hands crossed over his chest.  

4. Cheer Sam up 

Sam is 17, Dean is 21

Today had been a terrible day. Sam had a test in every class and also can't go to his new friend's house because he has to go on a hunt. The boy slips into the familiar car as it comes to a stop in front of the school and he slips in the passenger seat. 

"'Sup, Sammy," Sam just looks at him, "Jeez, who pissed in your cereal?" He wonders out loud while easing away from the curb and back into the street. 

"Shut up Dean." Sam grits and picks and a hole in his jeans. 

Dean doesn't say anything for a while, glancing at Sam every now and again. After a while of debating on how to cheer his little brother up, he comes up with an idea. 

"So, Sammy, I have to do some research tonight see I was thinking we could stop at the library. I also think there is some good football tonight so we could grab some food and watch the game." 

Finally, Sam looks up to Dean, "I thought you were going to that bar tonight. You said they had a half-off beer." 

Dean just shrugs. Sam smiles and nods, his brown hair flopping in his face, "I saw this new book..." 

Dean smiles triumphantly and attempts to follow Sam's rambling about books and school and even football. 

5. Protect him with his life

Sam is 27, Dean is 31

This is not how they planned the hunt to go. 

Turns out, Egyptian gods like to kill people. Slowly. 

Sam is sitting on the ground in some dingy basement, hands tied behind his back and blood dripping out of a cut on his cheek. 

In front of him, a tall man stands holding a knife letting the blood drip onto the ground for a dramatic effect. 

"So, Sammy, where should we start." 

"Bite me." Sam spits, anger seeping through his voice. The god just laughs and twirls the knife some more. 

The god leans forward and swipes the knife across his chest with a smile. Sam lets his head fall back against the wall with a groan. 

Sam squeezes his eyes shut as he feels the blade hoovering over his throat. Come on Dean. Come on Dean. Sam repeats in his head over and over again. 

A loud bang draws the blade aways from his neck and Sam snaps his eyes open to see Dean standing in the doorway. 

"Howdy their, bitch." He says with a smirk and starts towards the god. The god lifts a hand and Dean goes flying into the wall. 

"Dean!" Sam exclaims. 

"Bitch," Dean mumbles and slowly stands up, the god is now standing in front of him leaving Sam pulling at his restraints. 

Sam's vision blurs, but can still hear Dean and the god fighting. Sam tries to keep quiet as the rope falls away from his hand but he can't help the relief that floods over him. The younger brother tries desperately to shake the blurriness from his eyes. When he does he sees the god holding Dean against the wall, knife to his throat. Dean's face is bloody but he looks mostly conscious, the knife is starting to draw blood from his throat but isn't pushed in far enough to kill him. 

Sam's blood boils with furry and he grabs the weapon that Dean dropped stumbling over to the god and stabbing him right through the back. 

Sam falls to the ground, the world around him spinning, but he hears Dean yelling his name. 

Two warm arms wrap around him and haul him up. A gentle hand cups his face, "Hey, hey, Sammy stay with me." 

"He almost killed you, Dee." Sam whispered losing his strength and falling against his brother. 

"Anything to protect my baby brother," Dean whispers. Sam just makes a noise and passes out his body falling against his brother. 

"Jesus Christ, you gained weight, Sammy." Dean grunts as he hauls his ginormous little brother up the stairs and into the car. Dean grabbed the kit from the back and quickly patched up Sam's wounds and laid him down in the back seat of the car. 

He checked Sam's pulse one more time and nodded as he felt the breathing under his finger. Before he closed the door to the car, he ran a hand through his brother's hair, "I'm proud of you, Sammy." He whispered and slipped into the driver's seat. 

As long as Sammy's ok Dean's ok.