The Name's Dean

Feelings

He hated it. Hated seeing himself in the mirror, hated being called his birth name, hated being stared at, but most of all, he hated the fact he couldn't say a word. Sam was nice to him, loved him the way siblings loved each other. Sam would die for him and he'd die for Sam. But maybe Sam wouldn't if he knew the truth. Maybe Sam would still love him, die for him still. He couldn't take that chance, he knew. Dean sighed heavily and stalked out of the bathroom. Sam noticed. "Geez, Diane, you start your period today?" He joked. Dean shot him a death glare as tears sprang to his eyes. "Don't say that." He said brokenly. Sam looked shocked. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. I was only kidding." He tried to take it back. "It's fine." Dean sighed, tossing a too tight shirt into his suitcase. "Is something wrong?" Sam asked. "No. I'm fine. Damn pad bled through again." He looked Sam in the eye. Sam blushed and quickly continued packing as well. "I don't need to know that." He muttered. Dean laughed, smirking. It wasn't a complete lie though, his pad actually had bled through. That was another thing he hated. Periods. Dean shuddered and zipped up his suitcase. The clothes and essentials inside bounced as he pulled it off his bed. "You want some help, Diane?" Sam moved to help, but he was cut off. "No." Dean said shrilly. "I don't need help. I am just as strong as you are." Sam shrugged, figuring his sister was going through some weird self-confidence thing. He closed his own suitcase and they both headed out to the Impala, where John was waiting. "Took you girls long enough!" He chuckled, getting in the driver's seat. "Yeah, sorry." Dean said distractedly. /girls/ ugh. John shook his head. "It's alright, we just should be on the road before sunrise." He smiled. Dean flashed his pearly whites back. He didn't mean it. Really, he was imagining himself without boobs or periods or any other girly bullshit he put up with. Dean thought about the pocketknife in Sam's jeans, wondering if he could steal it and trace a few lines in himself. He shook his head. Shoving the destructive thoughts away, he settled on the backseat, laying down across the leather. "Don't you dare put your heels into my seats!" John yelled. "I'm not wearing heels!" Dean yelled defiantly, matching his father's tone. "And don't back sass me." John grumbled. He whispered something to Sam about periods and Sam snickered. "Now, Diane, you're gonna stay in the motel while Sam and I take care of a case. Don't make a mess and watch the door." John said. Dean was angry. Why should he have to stay in a motel just because he has boobs? It's not like he asked to be born with the damn things! He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying hard not to scream at John. Maybe if he just asked...no. Don't blow this, Dean. "Yes, daddy." He replied in the most girly voice he could stand. John made a 'hmph' noise and kept driving. This would take a while and Dean hadn't really enjoyed waking up at the ass crack of dawn. He slid down into the seat, careful to rest his feet under the seat, and fell asleep for a few hours.