Work Text:
January 24, 1989 Dean Winchester woke up in a nameless motel in Illinois to a soft thumping on his foot. It was freezing, his father had not been by in over a week and his kid brother was sitting at the end of the bed staring at him excitedly.
“Sammy, it’s,” Dean checked the clock “5am! Come on man!”
“I couldnt wait. Here.” Sam handed Dean a small wrapped gift. He had used the takeout bag from their dinner the night before and tied a lopsided bow with one of his boot laces. “Happy Birthday, Dean.”
Dean didn’t know what to say. For starters, he’d actually forgotten it was his birthday. Not that they had stopped to celebrate anything in years. But the fact that the same brother who had screamed, “I hate you!” to him not hours earlier was suddenly the sweetest kid on the planet kinda made him feel those dumb feelings he’d been told were for girls.
“Aww Sammy. Thanks man. What’d you get me?” Dean said snatching the gift and shaking it.
“We don’t have money. Just for food.” Sammy answered shyly.
“It’s still more than anyone else ever gave me. I like it already.”
“Open it then!”
Dean carefully untied the shoelace and placed it on the nightstand, making a mental note to re-lace Sammy’s boot before Dad saw it. Opening the package he sucked in a stiff breath and felt his eyes begin water before he heard Dad’s voice in his head. Suck it up Dean. Tears will get you killed.
“Do you like it?” Sammy asked, crawling up the bed to curl next to his big brother.
“Yeah Sammy. I love it. Just what I wanted.”
“Can we use it now?”
“Sure.” Dean lifted the gift, greatest possession Sammy had to give, pointed it at the hotel TV and turned it on.
“Sorry I said I hate you earlier. It’s your birthday. You can watch what you want now.”