dean is imprisoned by his devotion for sam. at first, it was a childlike wonder for his tiny baby feet and the slope of his little nose. dean would curl around him in his crib and hold him close, nose pressed to the crown of his head and whispering to him about knights of the round table.
then, everything innocent and sweet burnt alongside their mother and was replaced with a desperate kind of love that made john glance twice. he sat beside a toddling sam in the back seat of the impala and kept their hands tangled together, fingers sticky and warm. he'd carry sam on his back until his legs were sore and screaming, hold him close when john was quiet and staring over a bottle of whiskey.
then sammy went to school, and dean was busy learning about things terrible and worrying that sam would be taken from him while he slept. he was there when sam was dropped off and there to pick him up, teeth biting lip and cheeks gnawed raw.
he was never far from sam, never. they ate together, slept together, shared the same bathroom all their childhood. and then sam was gone, for so long and seemingly never to return to his side and dean was distraught.
he didn't eat, he fought until his knuckles broke and his nose went crooked, he slept with every woman he came across and hunted in nameless towns miserable and tired.
and then sam was back. legs bent awkwardly in the passenger seat with cheeks flushed and alive and so close to him. he felt high with companionship, hands and shoulders grazing sam's and knees knocking under diner tables. they bickered and sang along to the radio and it was an overwhelming sweetness that scared him blind, and he kept looking at him out of the corner of his eye obsessively.
then their dad was back and so angry, and dean's teeth were oily slick with blood that dripped down his chin. his eyes were slits and he wanted desperately to be okay, for sam to be okay. and then his dad, who he was devoted to only second to sam, was pleading with sam to choose the demon over dean.
john said, "killing this demon comes first, before me, before everything."
and like white hot lightning, sam's eyes flicked to his in the rearview mirror, and he whispered, "no sir, not before everything."
in that moment, dean understood that the devotion was mutual, that sam loved him just as selfishly, that he would live because sam said so and there was no one he believed in more than his little brother.
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