sasquatchandleatherjacket:

babybrotherdean:

What if little tiny Sammy died of SIDS, and little toddler Dean made up a story about fires and demons to explain why his baby brother wasn’t around anymore?

ok. but what about. 

dean gets hurt on a hunt and wakes up in a mental institution. john is there. and mary. they tell him this is the first time he’s been lucid in years. dean’s shouting about getting back to sammy, to protect him, there’s demons after him. and john and mary just look real tired. and sad. and mary crouches down next to him all gentle and says sammy- sammy died dean. as a baby. you don’t- don’t you remember? we had a funeral. you were only four… try and remember for me baby. 

and god it feels so real, and his mom and dad, they’re there. mary touched him and it’s everything he remembers, down to the smell of her hand cream. but it can’t be real, can it? so he lashes out, rushes for the door, and john has to hold him back him until a nurse comes in with a sedative and knocks him out. 

he wakes up in a different hospital, sam but his side, smiling at him as soon as he opens his eyes dude, you took a pretty good bang to the head. they say you’ll be fine, though. be outta here in a few days. dean tells sam about his dream and sam shrugs it off, concussions, man. 

a few weeks later he goes to sleep in his motel bed, sam snoring a few feet away, and wakes up in a hospital bed, arms restrained, belted to the bed. mary’s there again, sitting beside him, rubbing his hand. and he opens his eyes but he feels so tired. mom? she whispers when she talks to him, shh baby. we’re going for a little field trip today. you feel up for that?

and he doesn’t realize where she’s taking him until it’s too late. it’s sunny out, brighter than it has any right to be as she leads him to it. the tiny headstone fashioned in the shape of a teddy bear, engravings weathered and rounded with age. 

Hush my dear, be still and slumber,
Jolly angels guard your bed

Samuel Winchester
5/2/1983-11/2/1983

and it’s real. the stone is solid under his fingertips and the grass beneath his knees is damp and seeps through his jeans and he can almost remember it, standing here over twenty five years ago, holding his father’s hand, not really understanding but trying to be brave, be a brave little soldier for daddy ok? he remembers, and it’s real. 

on the ride back mary explains as best she can. he’d had a psychotic break, twenty two years to the day after sam’s death, no one really knows why. he’s been institutionalized for years, semi-catatonic until a new experimental treatment became available. after the third treatment he began having these moments of lucidity. but we need you to fight for it baby, we need you to fight your way back to us. the doctors had explained, the treatment is only the first step, but if dean doesn’t fight to stay in the real world, he’ll revert right back into those delusions. 

mary signs him back in and dean pulls her into a tight hug before she leaves. i love you mom. i’m so sorry. tell dad i lo- his voice catches- i love him too. she pecks his cheek, tells him it’s ok, that she loves him too, that she’ll see him tomorrow. 

but she won’t. it’s his choice, right? the life he remembers may be nothing but a paranoid delusion, but he’ll take delusions any day over a world without his brother in it. when dean wakes up the next morning, it’s to the smell of convenience store coffee and the sound of sam turning on the motel shower.