Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke.
Special thanks to LadyWallace for all of the help, suggestions, and support!
This story is AU. The accident at the end of season one happened, but there was no Sam.
Not Without My Brother
"There's no other love like the love for a brother.There's no other love like the love from a brother."-Terri Guillemets
Prologue
Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and stepped into the motel's tiny excuse for a bathroom. He studied his reflection in the mirror and winced. A cut that ran along his hairline had bled down the side of his face. The blood, in a trickle down his cheek, had dried dark and crusty. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. Sleep had become a rarity these days. Not only had Dean kept himself busy with one hunt after another since his father's death, but when he did try to sleep it had been riddled with nightmares.
Dean splashed cold water over his face and then patted it dry with a towel. He looked a little better now that the dried blood was gone. Deciding on a shower, he kicked off his shoes and shucked off his clothes before turning on the shower and waiting for the water to heat. When he stepped into the steaming spray, Dean breathed a sigh of relief as the hot water soothed his tense, aching muscles.
He heard his phone ringing on the counter as he turned off the shower several minutes later, but he ignored it. He didn't feel like talking to Bobby or any of his father's other hunting friends at the moment.
An ache started deep in his chest as he thought of his dad. It seemed as if John had been gone forever instead of only a few months. Even though he and his father had started hunting separately more and more as of late, the bond between them had still been strong. Knowing his father had given his life to save Dean's after the accident with the truck, well Dean wasn't sure the guilt would ever go away.
He sighed as he rubbed the thin, white motel towel over his hair before he dressed in sweats and a faded Metallica t-shirt. Tossing the towel over the rack haphazardly, Dean picked up his phone and glanced at the screen. He had three missed calls from the same number, one he didn't recognize. He did, however, know the area code. It was from Minnesota where his father had lived once upon a time about four or five years ago with a girlfriend, Laurie.
Dean frowned. He had a much younger half-brother, Samuel , that lived in Minnesota with Laurie. Although he had only seen Samuel once, worry bubbled in the pit of his stomach. The little three-year-old was still his brother.
Dean lifted the phone to his ear so that he could check his voicemail. "Mr. Winchester, this is Sabrina Adams from St. Paul Child Services. We have a Samuel Winchester here in our custody. His mother was killed in a car accident yesterday, and her will stated that should anything happen to her, you should be contacted."
Dean didn't hear the rest of the message. The phone slipped from his stunned fingers and clattered to the tile floor. His chest constricted and black dots danced before his eyes. His father was gone; Samuel's mother was dead; and he was the only one left in the world that cared even a tiny bit about what happened to his little brother.
Laurie's family had hated John Winchester and hadn't wanted anything to do with the child that was the product of their union. That left Dean. He ran a hand through his short hair and leaned against the bathroom counter until the dots that spotted his vision disappeared.
He had no idea what he was going to do next, but he did know that he couldn't leave Samuel in the custody of strangers. Moving toward the bedroom as if in a daze, Dean began to pack his things.
To Be Continued...