FicWad

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He lays awake in daddy's bed like he does every night he's away on a hunt. He stays curled up in his cocoon of blankets and sheets, listening for the roar of the engine to tell him to return to Sammy's side. It doesn't come when he wants it to.

He stares up at the ceiling of their apartment, cracked and chipped from all the years it has seen. Dean knows they won't be there long enough to paint it, and that sometimes bothers him. Only sometimes though. Daddy has explained why, and daddy knows everything. Dean doesn't complain.

"Dean?" Sammy's voice is small, scared, lost, and Dean wishes daddy was home. His wide, hazel eyes gleam with tears as he stands in the doorway. Dean's old teddy is clutched tight in his chubby, little hand.

Dean pushes himself up, out of the safety of the blankets, as Sammy scrambles up the mattress, and snuggles against Dean and the warm blankets. His eyes are closed in relief, but he's still crying softly. Dean pulls him close and strokes his hair, whispering, "What's wrong, Sammy?"

Sammy sniffles and looks up at him with puffy, red eyes. "I-I woke up," he chokes out. "A-and you weren't there."

"I told you that I was staying in daddy's room tonight," he says softly, wiping away Sammy's tears with his thumb.

He sniffles again and buries his face back in Dean's shoulder; tears soak through, but neither of them care. "I-I forgot," Sammy mumbles into his shirt, his voice still scared and small.

Dean knows that if he were to come to daddy in tears, in the middle of the night, he'd send him back to bed, and it bothers him sometimes. Only sometimes though. He strokes Sammy's hair and pulls the blanket up. "It's okay, Sammy," Dean tells him. "Everyone forgets sometimes."

Sammy sinks into the warmth, clinging desperately to their teddy, and Dean smiles. Sammy knows he's safe with big brother Dean there with him, and Dean's happy that he can keep his little brother safe.

"What woke you up?" Dean asks as Sammy fidgets to find a comfortable position. He knows Sammy doesn't 'just wake up,' and he knows he hasn't figured out how to lie about the bad dreams and the shadows daddy's charms cast on the walls. That makes him happy because at least one of them is honest.

"I had a bad dream," Sammy mumbles tiredly, his eyes are closed. "It was bright and hot and I was crying, but daddy couldn't help me... he was crying too..." he yawns. "Daddy doesn't know how to cry though... daddies don't cry."

Dean looks down at him, but can't say anything to agree with him. `Of course daddies don't cry, Sammy. They're all Superman.' He knows that daddies cry, he's seen their daddy cry. The night they had to leave their home because of what happened to mommy he cried and cried, and Dean was scared.

"Do you ever have bad dreams, Dean?" Sammy looks up at him through half-lidded eyes.

Dean smiles and nods. "Only sometimes, Sammy," he lies. "Only sometimes."