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"Sam."
No. A chill shot through Sam, his chest heaving on a hitched breath. He could see it in Dean’s eyes, could practically taste the apology on his lips, they were so close. It was the end again, only it was their end. They had said once that they were okay not ever having existed before and that was what was happening. Their world, just theirs, was crumbling around them and that was okay. Sam had already made peace with that. He didn’t have any regrets because it would fix everything, Kevin, Bobby, Ellen and Jo, even their parents. And at the end of it all, he at least had Dean so he was okay.
But now Dean wanted to apologize?
After Sam had wanted to hear it for months, years even, Dean chose now to apologize? Seriously? And Sam had wanted it before, he did. Had needed Dean to say it and mean it if only because it meant that he understood what Sam had really been trying to tell him. He wasn’t saying that it was too late, just that it wasn’t necessary. He just didn’t want to hear Dean say it at the end of it all.
"Dean, no. You don’t need to…"
"I love you."
It shocked a smile from Sam, wide but broken as his heart shattered then remade itself around those words. He could feel them slipping away but that was okay. He had Dean and Dean loved him.
"I love you, too," Sam said. His hands tightened around Dean’s shoulders, drawing him even closer. Dean’s hands were just as firm, holding on for dear life in their last moments together. Their foreheads touched and even though Sam couldn’t see past the spread of dusty freckles across Dean’s nose and the gold that glimmered within the green of his eyes, he could still feel Dean’s smile, practically pressed to his lips.
"I know."
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
The scant space between them was bridged and the last thing Sam felt before the void swallowed them up was the press of Dean’s lips against his. But that was okay, because Dean was there with him. Neither of them had to go alone this time.
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Sam Wesson was born May 2nd, 1983 to Mary and John Wesson. At the tender age of six months, his mother died in an accident and his father was never the same. Though Sam couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with it, John blamed him for the lost of his wife and the mother Sam would never grow up to know, let alone love.
Skip a few years and Sam's eight. He and his dad were moving. Again. John had promised to make things better, to stop drinking and all that yada yada. Sam was only eight but he knew better than to believe in fairy tales any more. They moved to Sioux Falls in South Dakota across from Smith’s Auto Salvage yard. An old friend of John’s, apparently. He was going to give John a job fixing cars and everything.
Sam almost wanted to tell Mr. Smith not to hold his breath.
They had been there for three days when Sam was practically kicked out of the house to ‘make some friends.’ Sam didn’t see the point, it wasn’t like they were going to be staying for long. They never stayed in one place for more than a month or two, five tops, but Sam went out anyways.
He wandered around the old cars, hazel eyes tracking the stories behind the dents and faded paint jobs. It’s as he was inspecting the diamond in the ruff, a beautiful, sleek machine among the junk, that his gaze landed on a pair of bright green eyes set above a freckled nose, moss green almost gold in the sun light. Sam found himself rooted to the spot, unable to look away.
The boy was older with his dirty blonde hair cut short, his body taller and more lean while Sam was a little chubby and barely above average height. The boy stared at Sam over the hood of the black car, an Impala according to the insignia. Then he broke into a wide smile that made Sam’s heart do funny flips and his lips twisting upwards reflectively.
"Hey. You’re Sam, right?"
"Y- yes. Yes, that’s right," Sam replied with a timid little nod of his mop of dark hair. If anything, the boy's smile brightened. In a flash he was in front of Sam and grabbing onto his wrist. Sam didn’t understand just yet what the tingling sensation shooting up his arm meant, being only eight and all.
"I’m Dean. Hey, you wanna see something cool?"
What Sam did know as he let the older boy tug him through the old, rusting cars that Dean was going to change his life and show Sam what having a home and a family actually meant.