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"Sammy, close your eyes." Dean whispered to his 6 month old brother as Sam looked up at him from where he was cradled in Dean's arms. The hot, licking flames and smoke threatened to choke him, but he refused to pause as he ran for their lives, down the hallway and out the front door of his childhood home.
A few moments later, Dean looked down to see Sam's eyes scrunched up in confusion and breathed almost inaudibly, "Hey, open up, we're safe now." as Mary Winchester was swallowed up by the flames behind them.
"Sammy, close your eyes." Dean murmured to his 3 year old brother as Sam looked up at him from where he had his head in Dean's lap. The warm, familiar arms of sleep threatened to take him, empowered by the low, rhythmic purr of the car, but he refused to fall in them as he caressed the younger one's head.
A couple hours later, Dean looked down to see Sam's eyelids drooping with drowsiness and murmured, "Hey, open up, we're home now." as John Winchester pulled in the driveway of Singer Autos.
"Sammy, close your eyes." Dean soothed his 7 year old brother as Sam looked up at him from where he sat curled up in the bathtub by Dean's side. The cold enameled floor of the tub threatened to freeze his uncovered feet, but he refused to get his socks on, as he wrapped his only warm jacket around his little brother.
A few hours later, Dean looked down to see Sam's eyes screwed shut in trepidation and comforted, "Hey, open up, it's over now." as the raging hurricane started to subside, leaving destruction in its wake.
"Sammy, close your eyes." Dean yelled at his 12 year old brother as Sam looked across at him from where he stood a few paces from Dean on the gravelly ground. The air, reeking of spilled blood, threatened to overwhelm his humane side, but he refused to so much as flinch, as he held the machete tightly, standing like a shield in front of his younger brother.
A few minutes later, Dean turned and looked to see Sam's eyes squeezed shut in horror and sighed, "Hey, open up, they're all gone now." as their father looked around at the mass of wasted bodies of vampires they'd just beheaded.
"Sammy, close your eyes." Dean asked his 18 year old brother as Sam looked at him from where stood next to Dean. The harsh words borne of betrayal and fear for his brother threatened to spill over, but he refused to lash out, as he nodded silently, jaw clenching as he took in the gravity of his brother's words.
A few days later, Dean woke up in the middle of the night and looked sideways to see Sam's eyes shut in pretend-sleep and called softly in the dark, "Hey, open up, I get what you mean now." as a Stanford acceptance letter peeked out from the half-zipped bag on the floor.
"Sammy, close your eyes." Dean begged his 25 year old brother as Sam looked at him from where he sat next to Dean's ripped and mutilated self. Screams of agony threatened to escape his throat, but he refused to show his pain, as he put on a brave face for the last time for his younger brother.
A few months later, Dean knocked on the motel room door and looked up to see Sam's eyes closing in disbelief and reassured, "Hey, open up, I'm back now." as memories of his time in Hell replayed freshly in his mind.
"Sammy, close your eyes." Dean implored his 33 year old brother as Sam looked up at him from where he knelt in front of Dean. The searing power of the Mark threatened to take over, but he refused to yield to it, as he gripped the scythe and swung it with as much strength as he could muster.
A few seconds later, Dean looked down to see Sam's eyes still shut tight in acceptance and apologized, "Hey, open up, you're okay now." as Death crumbled to his end on the floor of the dingy bar.
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