A/N: The italicized quote in Sam's section is Dean's actual quote from Swan Song. Dean's section is set after the car accident, after John's death. Sam's section is sometime in Season 7. He's having his hallucinations.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to the writers, producers, directions, etc. of Supernatural.

Soldier

I stared at the wreckage that was once my beloved Impala, my baby. I held a wrench in one hand, contemplating where to begin, and my other hand slowly and absently turned a bit of green plastic over and over. When I first saw the state of the car, I had the brief thought that even I couldn't fix it. It hardly resembled a car at all, let along one that could be saved. The thoughts were quickly discarded.

It was the Impala.

I couldn't not fix it.

So I had pulled what I could from the seats and the trunk. I tried the glove box but it was jammed and refused to open.

I stared at the passenger's side of the car. It had that 'destroyed beyond repair' look. My fingers turned the green plastic over again.

I also had brief thoughts of if it was even worth it to fix the car. I would pretty much be rebuilding the entire thing. It would take money I didn't have, dedication I wasn't sure I had. It would take time which currently held no meaning. It would take strength I knew I no longer possessed no matter the face I put on for Sam.

Sam.

Sammy.

I looked down at the little plastic green army man. Somehow this little bit of plastic had survived an accident none of us should have walked away from. This little soldier that had been jammed in that door for how long now? It had survived, not even a dent.

Strange that a piece of plastic meant so much. It was Sammy, my little brother, my baby brother. The kid had jammed it in the door and I had left it there, and there it had remained until the accident jarred it loose.

I stared at it. How had it survived? How hadn't it been even lost?

Perhaps it was a sign, if I was inclined to believe that kind of stuff. It was a consideration though. Perhaps the little soldier symbolized something.

Maybe it represented Sammy's strength.

Maybe it represented the fact that we were raised to be soldiers and...Dad had...died as a soldier.

Maybe it represented me and Sam, our relationship, our bond. Maybe the soldier was meant to show that, together, we could survive anything. Maybe it was meant to show the strength of our love for each other.

And maybe it was just a piece of green plastic.

I looked back at the Impala and approached it. I bent down and looked at the little pocket on the door that used to be filled with a green army man.

I turned my gaze back to the soldier in my palm.

Any sane, normal person would just throw it away. No one had ever said Dean Winchester was sane or normal.

I looked up at Bobby's house over the Impala's depressed roof. I watched Sam walk by the window and then walk by again, and again. On the sixth lap, he paused and looked out the window, his eyes immediately hitting mine. On impulse, I balanced the tiny man on the damaged roof.

I began to wonder if he could actually see the little toy but then I saw it. The corner of Sam's mouth twitched and then curled into a smile.

I watched as he approached me, my baby, and the soldier. He ran his eyes over the wreck. How in the hell had this boy walked away from this crash?

"It survived," Sam said, gesturing to the plastic man.

"It did." I folded my hands on the roof of the car and watched Sam stare at the army man.

I should really throw it away.

"I thought you were going to shoot me when I got this thing stuck."

How could I be even a little aggravated when that toy represented us, you?

"I didn't mind," I said with a lift of my shoulder. And I didn't. Sammy had been a kid; Sam had been Sammy.

Sam gave a huff I assumed was supposed to be a little laugh. I watched him reach out and carefully take the soldier as though it was glass and would shatter at a moment's notice. Because it was clearly that valuable.

"Do you need any help with the car?" Sam asked, still staring at the toy.

"I'll let you know," I said. I knew exactly what he could do but he couldn't do it yet.

Sam glanced at me and nodded. He placed the little soldier back on the roof. "I'll call you for lunch."

I nodded once and watched past the soldier as Sam returned to the house.

All that time later when I finally had the Impala rebuilt, I handed that green plastic soldier to my little brother and watched with a smile as Sammy jammed it back in its home.

I leaned on the frame of the open window of the back passenger's door of the Impala and stared at the opposite side. I was thankful for the current silence in my head and clear vision, free of Lucifer for at least a little while.

I ghosted my fingers over the scar in my palm as I gazed at that little piece of molded green plastic. How long had it been in that door? A few years ago it had come free from that car accident but we had put it back. Dean had me jam it back in the door as though it was the final part of the car to be put together.

How could a toy army man hold so much? It held so many memories simply because it was a part of the Impala. Who knew it could hold so much meaning?

I thought I heard gravel crunching under shoes behind me but ignored it, keeping all my attention on that green soldier.

I wonder how people would react if I told them it was a toy soldier that let me overpower the Devil?

"Sam?"

Dean. The brother I had nearly killed on several occasions but especially that day. I still remember the state of his face as Lucifer used me to beat him almost to death against the side of the Impala, our home. I also remember Dean's words. I would never forget them. I had held onto them in the Cage.

"Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you. I'm not gonna leave you."

How many times had I recited those words down in Lucifer's Cage? How many times had I been sure I was done, broken, unable to go on, only to have Dean's face in front of me whispering those words? Those words and Dean had been the only things I had to hold onto in Hell.

My eyes focused on the soldier again. Maybe not the only things. I remember a little green soldier floating through my mind sometimes. I remember holding onto that soldier when Dean had been unable to come on occasion. Sometimes he was as exhausted as I was and so did not appear, but that soldier did. That soldier would briefly take Dean's place, represent him, represent his strength and the strength of our bond.

"Sammy?"

Did he know? Did he know how I took control of Lucifer that day?

"No, I don't."

Oh, I said that out loud. So he didn't know. How couldn't he know? That soldier was home, was Dean, so it had been Dean that gave me the strength to take control. How didn't he know? How didn't he know he was my strength, my soldier that's stuck there like another piece of me and without him I'm not whole, just like that toy soldier in the door?

"Sam, are you okay?"

"That soldier saved us," I said and didn't have to look at Dean to know I was confusing him. "I saw it that day, just sitting there like it has been all these years. It got through. I saw my life, our life, in this car. I saw you. It was all you. I saw memories I had forgotten but it was still all you."

I finally turned my head from the little soldier to look at my soldier.

"It was the soldier that got through but it was you I saw. It was all you."

We stared at each other as Dean processed. I eventually looked back at the green man in the door and smiled a little at its significance. No one else would ever understand little toy soldiers.

I smiled again and leaned into Dean when he put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. We stared at the green army man.

We were each other's strengths and every being on Earth, in Hell, in Purgatory, and in Heaven knew it. Why else were they always trying to keep us apart?

We got our strength from each other.

We were soldiers for each other.

We were the soldier that allowed the other to survive a willing stay in Hell.

We were like that little green soldier, the final piece to a home only we knew.

The final piece to creating something whole and strong.

Dean was my soldier and I was his.

The End