What Could Have Been

Summary: Alternate Ending to Youth of Yesterday. The potion didn’t work and Sam and Dean have to live with the fact that Sam is five years old all over again and a lot of things in their lives have to change.

A/N: Okay, this first of all, wasn’t something I intended on doing at all, but I received a PM about a week ago asking if I’d ever write an alternate ending and despite the fact I’m supposed to be working on another story, I could not get the ‘what if’ out of my head and next thing I know this was being written….so I don’t know if anyone is actually reading this, but if so, I hope it’s not confusing (it gets better the more you read, i hope), at the end it changes from past to present… hope you enjoy.

Spoilers for Season 3...though most have been altered, so they probably wouldn't matter too much anyway.

It hadn’t worked….Sam had stood there for ten minutes before nausea ripped through him, but it was nothing like when he had reverted, this was just nausea plain and simple. Ten minutes later his brother had raced back into the room to find him on his knees retching and vomiting into a trashcan Bobby had found beneath a pile of books and wrappers.

‘Sammy!?’ Dean had fallen to his knees beside him and put a comforting hand on the back of his neck. ‘What happened?!’

He was sick for two days, he remembered how Dean had feared that he had been poisoned, but when the fever broke and the vomiting stopped, Bobby had just assumed that in her haste, Tainn must have forgotten an ingredient. Dean was relieved, but Sam didn’t know whether he was or not.

For the next three weeks they hunted mercilessly for a cure to help him, Bobby consulted every hunter he knew and Dean spent hours searching every book and website he could find, but nothing came up. He was stuck in a five year old body with no cure in sight and not even Dean’s constant reassurances could make him feel any better about it.

The weeks turned to months and they remained at Bobby’s house, Dean found several hunts purely by accident, but Bobby had passed them onto other hunters, knowing both the brothers hadn’t been ready for it. Sam was too young and Dean was exhausted.

Sam had accepted it at the beginning, but as the days wore on and the questions remained unanswered he sank into a depression that he never knew a five year old could have.

‘He’s getting worse Bobby.’

Sam remembered the fear in Dean’s voice towards the end of the third month, how he had crept down the stairs one night to hear Dean and Bobby conversing in the kitchen.

‘Dean he just needs a little more time, it’s not easy on the kid.’

‘He barely speaks anymore Bobby, to me or to you and he’s loosing weight, because he spends more time trying to use the laptop or going through books to actually eat. It’s been three months, he’s had enough time, it sucks I get it, but I can’t watch him freaking killing himself…he’s five!’

‘Dean….that’s exactly the problem, you’re treating him like a child when he isn’t one.’

Sam realised then, listening to his brother, hearing the anger and concern in his voice that he hadn’t been paying much attention to his personal needs and had also, sadly, noticed that the clothes that they had bought did look baggier.

So in the morning when he had come down for breakfast he sat down and ate the whole plate. The relief and pure happiness on his brothers face as Dean had picked the empty plate up after, made Sam realise that he had to try and cope, for Dean’s sake at least.

A week later it was him that suggested they left Bobby’s house and got back on the road.

Two months passed and they flitted from motel to motel, Sam would find jobs, but Dean would refuse all but a few, and in most cases, on the ones he did accept Sam would be ordered to stay behind at the motel, while Dean dealt with a few simple salt and burns.

They had been staying in a motel in West Texas when Dean’s phone had rang. Sam had been sitting on the bed reading something on his laptop, when Dean had exited the motel, speaking in hushed tones outside the door, before he had ran inside and insisted they were going to visit Bobby.

On arriving at their old friend’s place, Bobby was loading something up in his truck. When he had asked what was going on…Dean just looked at Bobby, his face indecisive, until he had crouched in front of him.

‘I need you to stay here, salt all the windows and doors and no matter what happens or who comes here, you need to stay inside until I get back.’

‘You’re leaving me here!’

‘Not for long, I hate to Sammy, I really do, but it won’t be long I promise.’

‘It’s the demon isn’t it…that was Ash who called.’

‘Sam-’

‘I’m coming with you.’

‘No!’

‘No? I need to be part of this fight Dean.’

‘No…you’re five at the moment Sam…five! I won’t let you fight, not this time….I’m sorry.’

‘You sure about leaving him here alone Dean?’

‘I can take care of myself Bobby…I’m still an adult despite my appearance. Dean please, please don’t leave me alone, I need to help, I need to fight this thing, for Mom and Dad and Jess.’

He hadn’t got his way, it took a good thirty minutes, before he had been forced to give up and Dean had all but pushed him into the house, murmuring apologies and promises that he wouldn’t be gone long.

It was nearly four days later when he heard the rumble of the Impala and the sounds of Bobby’s truck pulling into the yard. At the time he had been sat on the porch, despite Dean’s insistence to stay inside. He remembered being fearful for those few days, because a day after his brother left him behind, the phone had rung and a hunter had left a message for Bobby…the Roadhouse had been burnt down….the roadhouse that Dean had gone to visit, was gone and a lot of men and woman had died.

But when Dean had stumbled from the Impala, he hadn’t reprimanded or yelled at him for leaving the house, just stumbled past ignoring his relieved expression and concerned questions. Dean’s hands were blooded and he had streaks of blood down his face, remnants from the cut on his forehead. Bobby had seen Sam though and had put a hand gently on his shoulders, enquiring about his health and to his surprise Ellen had also appeared, with bloodshot eyes and on seeing him, a sympathetic expression on her face, she shrugged off his sympathies when he offered them, but he could never forget that pained look of complete loss in her eyes.

It wasn’t until later on that day, once the sun went down, that Dean came to his room. His older brother had hesitated for a brief moment, before he started speaking by saying a name that had shocked Sam.

‘Ava.’

‘What? You found her!? Is she okay?’

‘I killed her Sammy’

‘What? What do you mean…Why did you…Dean?!’

‘She was evil Sam…she had the colt…yellow eyes had been collecting them, the psychic children, putting them in a town, she didn’t say where, the sick sonovabitch was making them kill each other until there was only one left like it was some fucking competition….the demon wanted her to open up a devils gate in Wyoming…I didn’t have a choice…Ava would have released hundreds of Demons from hell. I know you wanted to save her, but she was….you should have seen her Sammy.’

‘Why didn’t he come for me?’

‘…I…Your psychic abilities left you when you reverted; they’re inactive until you’re 22. You were probably useless to him…but…God I had to kill her Sam.’

He’d understood his brothers detachment at that point, because it was true…what their Dad had told Dean….if you can’t save him, you’ll have to kill him…his brother had probably been thinking what Sam’s future now had in store for him and whether if Yellow eyes couldn’t be found…If he would be after Sam once his powers came back.

The only good point of that night was that even though Yellow eyes had beat a hasty retreat once Ava had died, Dean had retrieved the colt, still containing a single bullet. Dean swore it was enough.

A year passed, they spent the time mainly travelling between different motels and different states. They didn’t hunt as vigorously as they used to and the hunts they did were normally simple and on occasions when a particular hunt came up that Dean couldn’t refuse, he enlisted Bobby’s help and insisted Sam stayed at Bobby’s house or at a motel until they finished the hunts.

The first hunt where Dean made him stay behind was when a call had come about a storage locker their Dad had owned in Buffalo, on arriving both had discovered a hex box had gone missing and Dean had deemed it too dangerous for Sam to get involved. So he had to remain in a crappy motel, bored out of his mind, whilst Dean and Bobby attempted to get back whatever it was that had been taken.

It wasn’t as easy as they had hoped however, seeing as Dean had come up toe to toe with a British thief who was determined to reclaim the item Dean had stolen back from her hired lackeys.

The only contact he’d had with Dean was a couple of phone calls and it wasn’t until Dean returned tired and stinking of smoke two days later, did he discover that the item had been a cursed rabbits foot.

It was then the first feeling of jealousy hit him when Dean began speaking of how awesome Bobby had been and how quickly he had known how to deal with the situation. The desire to get back into hunting hit him then and within the next couple of days he resumed the research for a cure, research that he hadn’t been doing for a long time.

The hunts varied, from a strange fairy tale nightmare, which Dean allowed Sam to help with research and in the end helped figure out about the young girl and helped the comatose girls father, after being instructed to stay in the hospital whilst Dean ran to save another child, to Ghost ships, in which Sam met the British thief, Bela, only briefly, taking an instant dislike to her.

The worst hunt and the one that scared Dean deeply was when Gordon escaped from jail. Sam remembered being left alone briefly while Dean hunted for a vampire in a warehouse in New York. When Dean had come barrelling into their motel room demanding he pack, he was on instant alert and had followed the orders as fast as his small body allowed. Though Dean refused to speak of the problem, he thought there had been trouble finding the nest, however when the first bullet shot through their window, he knew it was something much worse.

‘Sammy!’

‘Dean…what’s happening?’

‘It's Gordon, he saw me outside Spider…sonuvabitch….Stay down….Jesus Sammy, just stay down!’

‘Gordon!? How did he find us…? How did he get out of Jail Dean?’

‘I don’t…shit…Bela, she rang this morning! That bitch I’ll fucking kill her I swear to God!’

‘D-Dean.’

‘I know I can hear them….Sammy grab a gun…Sam…fuck don’t cry, dammit Sam.’

‘I c…can’t stop… crap I can’t, my body…this is s-stupid.’

‘Sammy calm down.’

‘I am-‘

He remembered Dean’s body shielding his as the door crashed open and two men ran in, Gordon he had recognised instantly, but the other man, he hadn’t known, Dean hadn’t either by the stony expression.

‘He’s just a kid Gordon…you don’t have to do this!’

‘Heh…I heard that something had happened to Sammy, but until now…this is priceless and he looks frightened. Don’t worry Sammy, I’ll try and make it as painless as possible, after I get a few answers.’

‘It’s Sam.’

‘Sammy quiet let me handle this.’

‘Yes Sammy, let grown ups handle this.’

‘Fuck you Gordon.’

‘Dean I’m not after you, just move away.’

‘I don’t think so.’

He couldn’t remember exactly how long the stand-off lasted; one thing he did remember was being pushed towards the small bathroom as Dean had lunged towards Gordon, yelling at Sam to leave as he did. He could remember the bullet hitting the wall next to his face as he slammed the door closed, hear Dean’s screams and the rattling of the door as Gordon’s lackey followed after him.

Climbing out the small window was difficult, but with his smaller frame it was a lot easier than if he had been his normal six foot four size. He had paused at the edge of the parking lot, until the door opened and Gordon had come running from the motel. Despite his heart telling him to run back to Dean, he hadn’t, instead he had managed to escape from Gordon by finding a friendly looking young couple and turning on the waterworks. He had seen Gordon falter a short distance away as Sam made himself sob brokenly while pointing in the vengeful hunter’s direction, the almost animal look on Gordon’s face had shown his displeasure; Sam had to fight to keep the grin from his face.

‘Its okay sweetie, Brady call the police.’

‘I got it.’

‘What’s your name sweetheart?’

‘Sam.’

‘Hello Sam honey, I’m Lucy…Where’s your Mommy?’

The police had turned up within moments and despite the fact that his brother was supposed to be dead, he had regrettably told the police where he had come from and they had taken him back to the motel room.

Dean was found unconscious on the floor of their motel room, the mark on his brother’s forehead indicating that Gordon had hit his brother with something, probably the gun the vampire hunter had held. An ambulance had been called and a policewoman took Sam under her wing and he had just about tolerated the childish tones and the motherly attention she had given him.

‘Did you find them?’

‘No Son, we didn’t.’

‘Is my brother okay?’

‘The paramedics are taking him to the hospital now, but he looks fine kiddo…how about you hop up in there with them…the Doctors will take good care of you and your brother.’

Dean had woken two hours later and Sam remembered with distinct clarity the moment when his older brother had seen him. Dean had stumbled from the hospital bed, ignoring his own injury to sweep him from the ground, hugging Sam to him with enough force that he nearly squashed the younger Winchester. The broken whispers and thanks had startled Sam and he had known at that moment with that public display of affection that maybe Dean was beginning to look at Sam with something more akin to parental than brotherly and being honest to himself, it had scared him.

Dean had been forced to stay overnight and Bobby was called down on insistence from the nursing staff that Sam needed to be under the care of another adult, much to his chagrin. Police had guarded their door for the whole night causing unease between all three of them, but there was no sight of Gordon, no attempts and the next day they were back on the road, heading as far from that town as Dean could manage…Bobby had called in a favour for another hunter to finish the hunt they had started.

The rest of the year passed with hunts few and far between and Dean’s protectiveness increased ten fold on the ones they found. They heard whispers through the grapevine that Gordon was still hunting for him, so they rarely stayed more than three days in one place, sometimes Dean would wake him at strange times of the night and insist they moved, he never told Sam why, but he could only assume someone had been keeping tabs on Gordon for him, seeing as every time before they left, Dean’s cell beeped.

There were certain things that pained Sam…not being able to help save people alongside his brother was one of them…then one day he had caught sight of some familiar faces online…he recognised the novice Ghostbusters they had met in Texas those few years before and on reading their deaths he began wondering….how many lives had died, had been lost since he had shrunk….was his new age the cause of deaths that maybe he and his brother could have saved. The house that Ed and Harry had decided to use for some sort of Ghostbuster show was one Dean had wanted to do himself when the right date rolled round…they could have been there…they could have saved them…..

‘Help me find a way Dean’

‘We’ve looked Sammy, it’s been almost a year now and we’ve tried so much.’

‘This is messed up Dean….all those hunts that we passed on, that we ignored, that we couldn’t do…people have been dying Dean…because of me!’

‘It’s not your fault Sammy.’

‘It’s all my fault, I should have been better, I should have been careful and then this would never have happened…I keep tabs Dean, on every hunt we’ve passed up, I check back on them Dean and the lives….we could have saved them! All of them!’

‘Damn it Sammy you don’t know that.’

‘We need to hunt more.’

‘No.’

‘Why? Because I’m too young.’

‘Yes!’

‘Well screw you Dean! I’m nearly 25 now.’

‘You’re six! And you won’t hunt…not if I have my way…I’m the adult here Sam and what I say goes.’

‘Fuck you Dean! Fuck you! I’m not a child and you’re not my fucking Dad!’

Looking back, it was the first time they had really come to head about everything, the days that followed were silent and painfully awkward and in the end it was Dean that had approached him, attempting apologies and regrets, of which he too had tried to take blame to, because he knew Dean was only trying to help him, to protect him, but his adult mind was finding it hard to accept that his independence he had as an adult was gone.

It was then after those long months, that he had let the true grief of his situation hit him and he had grabbed Dean, who had been crouched at the time, around the neck and cried, sobs that shook his small body and made his stomach hurt and his heart ache, left his throat raw and his ribs bruised. Dean had held him and let him cry, keeping a soothing hand on his back and another in his hair, whispering words of comfort and apologies.

They still continued to travel, and one day when he was “seven” Dean dropped him off at Bobby’s house when a hunt came up that Dean required help with. A demon had possessed a child down in a small town in Wisconsin and had killed a lot of people. Despite Sam’s insistence that he could handle it, his help was refused and feeling safer leaving Sam at Bobby’s than a motel, that was where Dean had headed.

In the months since the argument and his small break breakdown, Dean had still let him continue helping with simple salt and burns and had helped improve his movement in his smaller body and the retraining of weaponry use, after they discovered Sam’s aiming was off and he struggled with the recoil. However Demons and Monsters had become no go zones.

‘You could have just left me at the Motel Dean.’

‘Bobby’s home is safer…it’s protected and it’s got that awesome panic room he showed us last month.’

‘Dean what if you need my help, I can’t get to you from here.’

‘Sammy it’s fine, I got Bobby.’

‘But-‘

‘Sammy please, we talked about this…Just keep your cell on you, don’t leave the property. I’ll call you at ten okay...Don’t eat all Bobby’s food and don’t touch the alcohol…See a smile looks good on you…Stay safe Little brother.’

‘Yeah….you too.’

Dean and Bobby returned four days later, tired, but thankfully whole, a few bruises on Dean’s part, but other than that, they were fine. Dean had even pulled him into a quick hug on returning, a trait that Dean seemed to have taken to, while Bobby had given him a swift pat on the back.

They stayed a week at Bobby’s and it was during that week that their lives hit a sudden change. Bobby had them sit down on the sofa amid the books and paper and had handed Dean an envelope.

‘Bobby what’s this?’

‘Open it and you’ll find out.’

‘It’s a key? Why the hell did you give me a key?’

‘A hunter friend of mine died three weeks ago…he had no family and he left everything he owned to me….we’d been friends a long time.’

‘Bobby I’m sorry.’

‘S’okay Sam, I’ve been doing this a long time now Son, shit happens. I’ll be fine.’

‘Still doesn’t explain why you handed me a key Bobby.’

‘Tony had a home-base out near Washington, Illinois….it’s yours, if you want it.’

‘You’re giving Dean and me a house!’

‘Now it’s not a big house, but it’s got a lot of land and it’s secluded enough that nobody would bother you boys…’

‘We can’t accept this Bobby….we can’t.’

‘Well I certainly don’t need it…I just thought with Sam-’

‘What about with Sam…I’m taking care of him just fine.’

‘You said to me once Dean that you didn’t want to be like John, that if you had the choice you would stop carting the boy from motel to motel.’

‘What? When?’

‘Sam go outside.’

‘What? Dean hang on a minute.’

‘Sam, now! That’s an order!’

Ten minutes later Dean was grabbing his arm and dragging him back to the car. They didn’t see or speak to Bobby for nearly two whole weeks and whenever Sam mentioned the old hunters name, Dean’s eyes would harden and his lips would press thin.

‘‘This is ridiculous Dean….answer the phone!’

‘Sam.’

‘Then I’ll answer it for you! Bobby’s like a father to us Dean, I’m not cutting him out just because of your damn pride.’

‘Sammy this isn’t about pride!’

‘Then what is it about, Bobby offered us a house Dean…a proper home!’

‘We don’t need one Sam, we have a home.’

‘The car doesn’t classify as a home Dean…it could make everything so much easier.’

‘Sam we’re not taking the damn house…now give me my fucking phone.’

Two days later Bobby was opening his door to find a fearful Dean cradling Sam in his arms, on grabbing Sam from his older brother’s arms; he noticed he was merely sleeping. It was after he had settled the youngest on the sofa in his library, did Dean explain about the motel break in. Sam had been held hostage with the manager and four others while two men had attempted to steal the money from the safe and take valuables from all the rooms. Sam’s cell, old watch that had been their Dad’s and laptop had been taken, along with all the money Dean had hustled the night before.

‘Scared the crap out of me Bobby…I knew it was a bad area, but I left him there….damn it I should have seen the signs, I’ve grown up in Motels, I should know what to avoid by now shouldn’t I?’

‘You forgot how big he is now Dean…before when he was six foot four the two of you wouldn’t have cared what crap hole you stayed in, because hell despite the fact he’s nothing but a softie, your brother was an intimidating looking guy.’

‘I should know by now…He could have been killed Bobby…God he could have died.’

‘But he didn’t.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why are you apologising to me for?’

‘For being a complete ass…I shouldn’t have yelled at you last time, it’s just…Damn Bobby you were right…I’m doing exactly what Dad did to us, when I should…when I can give him normal.’

‘But can you…’

Three days later found them driving up a dirt track, the house they found at the end wasn’t magnificent and it wasn’t big, and it needed work, the paint was chipped, the windows were boarded up and the grass and bushes around had become overgrown. Dean had given Sam a look right then, a disbelieving “what are we doing?” look, but he had just grinned up at Dean and waving a key at his older brother, had been the first to race towards the house.

Dean yells of him to wait ignored, because Sam already knew the house was protected, it had charms surrounding the land and house and the perimeter of the land had iron buried deep beneath the earth in a continuous line…no spirit or demon would be able to set foot on the land.

The house inside had been dusty and the water and electricity had been cut off, but Sam had bounded around from room to room a grin on his face regardless of the messy, dust coated house, bringing a smile to Dean’s face as the youngest, who claimed continuously that he was an adult, darted in and out of each room as if he truly was seven in mind.

With a smug smile on his face, Dean had tested the stairs and then ran up, declaring the largest room as his own.

They spent the next few months working on the house, cleaning it up room by room, throwing away the useless furniture and replacing it with anything they could find, first or second-hand. Dean still hunted, he couldn’t give it up completely, but Sam was always safe and when Dean returned from a hunt the house always seemed to have had a new lick of paint in one room and the damaged table would be standing straighter…the grass would be cut.

Sam however found himself alone more often, Dean couldn’t stay in the house for longer than two weeks without getting twitchy and snappy and the older would soon be out the door with keys in hand and a state to get to.

He took it quite well, knowing Dean wouldn’t be longer than a week at a time….until one day when Dean went for a hunt and was gone for nearly two months. He called Bobby continuously and spent those agonising fifty eight days calling for leads and researching every area within a mile of where his brother had gone, which a lot of people refused to answer him, after all he was just a child to them. His small body meant he couldn’t drive and meant he couldn’t go after his brother and it terrified him. Ten of those fifty eight days were spent searching for a voodoo priest, something he had promised Dean he would never do…he made a deal with himself that if Dean returned within a week, that he wouldn’t visit the man….He received a call from Bobby two days later….He had found Dean.

His older brother had been found at a Hospital in New York. Bobby arrived at the house a couple of days later and after sixty five days without him; he was finally at his brother’s comatose bedside.

Dean had been hunting a spirit, but something happened and his brother had fallen three storeys from an apartment building. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive and despite having suffered a fractured ulna and a severe concussion, his brother seemed to be in perfect health, yet two months had passed and Dean still hadn’t woken and Dean’s phone being crushed meant that they had no idea who to contact.

It didn’t take Sam and Bobby long to discover the two other comatose patients on the ward.

Jennifer Preston had died at sixteen years old….when she was seven her brother had accidentally pushed her off the apartment balcony and she fell into a coma…when she was sixteen they took her off life support and she died, on her death she returned to the apartment and waited.

It was Sam who discovered who their spirit was and it was Bobby who salted and burned the bones….Dean woke up on the sixty third day.

Sam could remember the moment he had stepped into that hospital room and his brother spoke his name….tears cascaded down his face and he laughed through them….he blamed the tears on his seven year old body. They both knew he was lying.

When they returned home a couple of days later, Dean sat down in his reclining chair and smiled.

Dean went nowhere for three whole months.

Hunts sometimes came to them and when Dean went to a hunt in Missouri and Sam was nearing nine, a couple of deaths appeared in their local newspaper. Two of the people Sam recognised, one having owned the Garage in town and the other worked at the local Gym, people he had befriended over time.

When he tried to ring Dean and got no answer he grabbed a sawn off and his small bag of tricks and left the house.

He managed to connect the men, they and the other victims were old high school buddies, the ghost that had been haunting them was a Mitchell Baxter, his gravesite had been vandalised a couple of days prior to the first death. Sam found out Baxter had died during an accident during football practice…the same team that the victims had been on.

It didn’t take Sam long to connect the dots, find the grave and salt and burn the bones….though it took him a long time to dig his way down to them. It took three days to complete it and as he was walking up the driveway to his house he couldn’t stop smiling….it felt good…really good.

Until he had seen the Impala sat outside the house.

‘What the hell were you thinking!?’

‘Dean…I saved some lives….three other men would have died if I hadn’t stopped him!’

‘You could have been killed!’

‘You weren’t here!’

‘You should have fucking called!’

‘I did Dean, you didn’t answer! I couldn’t sit here….I had no idea when you would have gotten back!’

‘You’re in a nine year old body Sam; you should be in school, not wandering around town with a fucking gun chasing after Spirits!’

‘So you’re pissed now because I went into town…is there anything I’m allowed to do! You don’t own me Dean, you can’t confine me to a house or a fucking motel….It’s okay for you, you spend half your time nowhere near this place! Am I that much of a burden that it’s better to just leave me!’

‘You wanted this house Sam! I’m using all the money I’ve hustled to keep you living here don’t I!?’

‘It’s not about the house Dean!’

‘But you just-’

‘I want to hunt Dean! I want to be around my brother…like we used to, but I like having somewhere we can call our home…like Bobby.’

‘You can’t hunt Sam.’

‘I just did Dean and look at me…I’m fine.’

‘No….That spirit was easy, it didn’t give a shit about you Sammy, but next time….no…you are not allowed to hunt…I forbid it.’

‘I’m sorry….you forbid it.’

‘Damn right I do….’

Dean stuck around for a couple of days after the argument, before the tension became too much and he left again. He didn’t return for two days, but when he did come back he stumbled through the door drunk.

Dean had grabbed Sam tightly and rambled drunkenly into his brother’s hair as he hugged him close, Sam’s anger melted quickly as his brother sobbed apologies and muttered his fears into his chestnut bangs.

Sam didn’t hunt again alone and Dean stayed around for longer after that, most hunts spanning months apart. They never spoke of that night, Dean claimed to not remember and Sam let him pretend.

When he was turning ten, Dean went out for a hunt, six days after leaving, the Impala’s rumbling engine had Sam bounding down the stairs and opening the front door, just as Dean stepped up to it, soaking wet from the rain, Dean had thrust something into Sam’s arms before moving past and running up the stairs.

Worried, he didn’t even register the fact that what his brother had given him was moving, until something wet and rough licked up the side of his face. He almost dropped it, but managed to correct himself just as Dean came back down the stairs, rubbing a towel over his face and hair, no longer wearing his jacket and having changed into a pair of sweatpants and a clean, dry tee.

Sam looked confused between the wet and bedraggled looking puppy and his brother.

‘What the hell Dean?’

‘Its owners were killed, I couldn’t leave it there. It’s only for a night…I’ll take it to the pound tomorrow.’

‘Dean you’re hunt was in South Dakota….and you bought it all the way here?’

‘What, I wanted to get back as soon as possible.’

‘Why?’

‘Sammy, it’s the first of May.’

‘So-oh my birthdays tomorrow.’

‘Don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday Sam.’

‘No of course not…You know I always wanted a dog.’

‘We can’t keep it Sam.’

Hunter never left, the Alsatian mix ended up staying. Dean had always said “I’ll go tomorrow” or “I’ll take him later Sam” After four months, the pound was never mentioned again and Sam was certain that Dean never had any intention to take the pup to one.

In fact having Hunter around was nice, when Dean left Sam had someone to talk to, guaranteed the dog couldn’t talk back, but having something else around, made Dean’s leavings a lot easier, he was sure that it was part of the reason why he was sure Dean lied about finding the dog in a victims house.

When Christmas rolled around when he was eleven, he remembered the pain on coming downstairs to find his brother nowhere in sight. In his mind he was now thirty years old, but it didn’t mean that he didn’t look forward to a Christmas with his family. However the Impala wasn’t out front and Hunter was still curled up in his basket meaning Dean hadn’t returned.

The past few Christmas’s Dean made a little too much effort, especially with the house, his brother had always decorate insanely, even then, the living room contained a large tree and countless decorations and the more Sam looked at it, the more depressed he felt, Christmas had never been his favourite holiday, it had been that time of the year when he had discovered what the family business had really been about, the last few years had made it tolerable, but again the family business had gotten in the way.

It was nearing ten at night and despite calls to Bobby, Dean hadn’t turned up. The present he had gotten his brother remained under the tree untouched as did the ones Dean had put under there for him to open. Not for the first time, he found himself fearing for his brother’s life.

When Dean fell through the door at one in the morning, blood tricking from a cut on his face and his leg shredded, Sam forgot his anger and helped Dean to the kitchen. It was one day after Christmas day he discovered the fine lines on his brother’s face and small, barely there, sprinkles of grey in his brother’s hair and he recalled with horror what him being a child all over again meant. It was one day after Christmas when he realised that no matter what happened he was always going to lose his brother.

With a now twenty two year old age gap, it was almost inevitable that Dean would one day leave him all alone.

Not for the first time, he found himself thinking of that voodoo priest.

By the time he turned twelve he was starting to see how much of a father figure Dean was starting to become, the attention was almost similar to how his brother had acted towards him when his Dad had asked Dean to watch him, until he grew too old for his brother to ruffle his hair or pull him into hugs…and despite the fact he felt old inside…Dean didn’t seem to see that.

They were having dinner at the diner in town when one of the waitresses flirting with Dean mentioned how cute his son was…..Dean always corrected them…that time he didn’t. Sam remembered dropping the knife he was holding and staring at his brother, who obviously felt the glare in his back and his brother had turned to face him.

‘You’re not my Dad Dean.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’

‘No you’re not….Dean you need to stop.’

‘Stop what….looking after you?’

‘No treating me like I’m yours. Just…be my brother again okay.’

‘I’ve always been your brother, never stopped.’

Dean stayed around for a couple of months , before Bobby requested help with a hunt down in Wisconsin and seeing as the old hunter was beginning to get on a bit in years, Dean hadn’t hesitated to help, but it was probably more of a reason to get away from the awkwardness of the last couple of months. Dean’s attempt to act more brotherly towards Sam, instead of fatherly didn’t seem to go too well, he was trying too hard.

He was still twelve when Dean came running down the stairs one day and slammed an empty shotgun on the coffee table in front of him.

‘‘Werewolf in Nebraska.’

‘Really…that’s good for you.’

‘You coming?’

‘Serious.’

‘Sam I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.’

‘Really, you’re going to let me hunt.’

‘Yes, really…we’ll drop Hunter off at Bobby’s and me and you are gonna do some brotherly bonding.’

‘Brotherly bonding?’

‘Yep, and nothing does that better than shooting some fugly in the heart with a silver bullet.’

‘I’ll have to remember that…let me grab my duffle and some clothes…Uh Dean.’

‘Yeah Sam.’

‘Thanks.’

It was the first time in a long time that the two of them worked on something more than research and Sam found it amazing how quickly they fell back into that old rhythm. They matched each other perfectly despite Sam’s youth and they worked as a perfect team…Sam also remembered fondly how his first ever hunt had been a werewolf and when it was his bullet that cut through the creatures heart he felt warmth spread through him as he thought about all the lives that benefited from that kill. Dean’s thumbs up and proud grin had only added to that warmth.

When he was thirteen Dean surprised him by letting him join more and more hunts. They killed a Wendigo in Minnesota, a Rawhead in Texas, a bucket load of spirits, several black dogs and one time they had even tackled a chupacabra, coming away with minimal injuries and that satisfied “I’ve done something good” feeling.

Dean also got less protective, well less protective than he had been, after all he was still Dean, but he listened to him more and though he hadn’t dropped the Fatherly attitude, he wasn’t half as bad as it had been.

It was also when he was thirteen that another issue seemed to come to his attention. He and Dean had been at the local Garage, the Impala on their last hunt had taken a serious knock and Dean needed to get hold of some parts. He had been lazily leaning against the wall outside, when a young girl had approached him and drew him into a conversation.

Dean came outside just as she was walking away and he had chuckled and given him a nudge with his elbow, but Sam’s face had fallen and he looked up at Dean with a scowl. Girls saw him for the age he looked, but in his mind he was nearing thirty three, even as he got older, he probably wouldn’t ever be able to bring himself to be with another girl…to fall for someone who would be so many years younger than himself…the thought had never hit him before. Dean seemed to understand instantly and had clamped a hand gently on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

When he was fourteen something happened while they were on a hunt. They were hunting vampires in San-Francisco, when he became separated from Dean and was jumped from behind.

When he had come to, he had found himself in an abandoned warehouse, with an older, but still vengeful Gordon Walker looking right at him. He could still see that face in his nightmares years later. Gordon had demanded answers and questions to something that Sam had no idea of…talk of the yellow eyed Demon, who had vanished shortly after the incident with Ava, and the plans he had. Mostly however it consisted of talk of how Sam could never escape his fate.

He had been wounded before on the hunts with Dean, but nothing ever left a scar that was visible enough, that it was noticeable everyday, however the scar Gordon left him would never vanish. He had been arguing back at Gordon, when the old hunter snarled something and had slapped him with the blade of his knife, only the angle was wrong and it scoured a deep cut from ear to nose, he didn’t remember screaming, just the blinding pain and the warmth of blood as it dripped down his cheek.

He could never remember how long Gordon had held him captive either, but Dean knew it down to the minute, two days, nine hours and thirty six minutes, well that’s what he told him anyway. Sam had just felt it all pass by in a blur, listening to painful words and promises, listening to stories he didn’t want to hear or know….and to finally learn that Dean had kept secrets from him.

‘You don’t even know do you…what’s inside you.’

‘W…wh-at?’

‘But your brother knows….you’re evil Sam….demon’s blood runs through your veins, those powers that you have, they’re unnatural, they’re demonic.’

‘No…no, y…you…’re l…ly…yin.’

‘You think that all those hunts big brother goes on is just monsters…Dean’s been tracking down old yellow eyes for a long time now….learnt things, why do you think you’re Daddy wanted him to kill you….you’re pure evil Sam….’

‘D-d…dean wou-n’t- How…y…you…ly’n.’

‘You think I stopped looking, I’ve been looking for you for a long time Sammy Winchester, following you and you’re brother’s every move, but you’ve been hard to find, older brother hid you well, till now of course…you think that everything is okay now that you’re this…No….you see this demon won’t stop till he gets what he wants…another nine years and that demon is going to come looking for you…no, we can’t have that.’

‘Ah! P…please.’

‘How bout I cut you a deal….you tell me what the rest of the plans are…and I’ll kill you quickly…I’ll make sure this bullet…goes straight to the heart.’

‘D-on’t….no….y…you…know…m...mo-ore than m…me….Ah….’

‘GORDON! You sadistic sonovabitch!’

His vision had been hazy at the time, but he recalled seeing a black and tan blur and hearing a snarl that could rival any hellhound…he remembered hearing yells and his brother’s infuriated tones, then three gunshots…one from his right and two from his left. He had probably blacked out for a short minute or two because when he woke again, his brother was in front of him and a comforting hand was on his face, calloused fingers brushed away dirt and blood and tears, hands he knew to be steady all his life, shook as they fluttered over bruises and wounds. He’d heard another set of footsteps and recognised Bobby’s gruff tones, and had understood then why Hunter, who they had left at Bobby’s that time, was snuffling at his hand….he could still feel the hot tears running down his face and the pain they caused as his salted tears landed in the wounds on his face.

‘Sammy...Ssh….it’s okay, Dean’s here, I’m here, Big Brother’s got you.’

‘Un…tie…m-me…D…dean…g…get…th-’

‘I’m working on it Sammy, stop panicking, you’re okay. Shit I can’t…Bobby I need a knife.’

‘Here…Hey Sam, quite a fix you got yourself into.’

‘Ssh….Sam, can you see me okay? Sammy.’

‘Dean try and stay calm.’

‘I am fucking calm Bobby! Don’t tell me to stay fucking calm!’

‘D…D’n’

‘Bobby put the dog back in the car and bring the Impala round’

‘Yeah…come on mutt.’

‘There you go Sam, you’re free…God…your face…God M’sorry…Damn it Sammy, I’m so sorry.’

‘H…h’me…please.’

‘Not home Sammy…Hospital…you’re going straight to a hospital, okay, I’m going to lift you now, it’ll hurt okay, but I’ll be as gentle as I can…okay…okay?’

‘G…Gor-AH! Stop...D…de…Nugh!’

‘Sorry, sorry…Gordon’s dead Sam….he’s dead; he’ll never hurt you again.’

Those words were the last he remembered before darkness had taken him…he didn’t remember anything else until he was opening his eyes in a hospital room nearly three days later. His brother had been sat by his bedside, green eyes clouded with fear, anger, relief….he had forgotten until then how much emotion his brother’s eyes conveyed. Dean had been holding onto his hand and even as he woke, his brother hadn’t shown any embarrassment and seemed to only grip tighter.

He looked older too, at times Sam forgot his brother was only a few years shy of forty, but as he woke, even with one of his eyes still swollen shut, he could see clearly the lines of age that he was starting to get and the premature grey hairs that were barely noticeable among the light brown hair and he knew that he was the cause of a lot of them.

Even when the doctors arrived, Sam remembered vividly that Dean’s hand still remained curled tightly over his, which had only tightened further when the doctor had read out his injuries. Broken nose, broken ribs, concussion, facial lacerations and bruises, broken arm and fractured clavicle, bruises to his chest and abdomen, broken fingers…the list went on and the whole time he remained impassive, while Dean grew paler, despite already knowing.

Doctors had been disgusted at his appearance, nobody understanding why an adult would harm a young teenage and he found that all the doctors and nurses seemed to fall in love with him; he spent quite a long period of time at that hospital that by the end he knew every nurse by name. Dean became increasingly protective, refusing to leave the room for even a short period of time, especially when CPS turned up, they said it had only been protocol and that they weren’t here to take him from his brother, though that hadn’t given Dean any comfort. They were right of course…they never took him from Dean.

‘He should never have touched you.’

‘Dean it’s alright.’

‘No it’s not…why are you so damn calm…he nearly killed you Sammy, he nearly killed you.’

‘Dean I know.’

‘Damn it Sammy…If I hadn’t…if Hunter hadn’t escaped from the car…I wouldn’t…Stupid dog…’

‘Best birthday present ever in my opinion.’

‘Didn’t get him for your birthday Sam. I found him…Damn mutt just overstayed his welcome.’

‘Gordon…he said something to me and I shouldn’t believe I mean, he…after what he did to me I shouldn’t, but…Have you been hunting the yellow eyed demon? Did you find out…things…that you should have told me?’

‘Sam? I don’t…’

‘Is there demon blood in me Dean?’

‘What? No…Gordon was playing mind games with you, he was a sadistic dick who beat up a kid…well the body of a kid, he hit you with enough force to…to…he…Sammy…’’

‘Oh God, there is…how did you…why didn’t you tell me….this is stuff…I’m supposed…to...to...know…I…I-’

The panic attack had come out of nowhere and it was just another thing to add to the growing list of problems they seemed to have. It wasn’t the first one he had, but it was weeks later when he had a second, then a third a couple of days after the second…they took a while to stop.

Dean had stammered around the answers he demanded shortly afterwards, fearing saying the wrong thing would set him off, but after a few weeks, Dean managed to explain everything to him…he was tainted…that bastard demon had tainted him, he didn’t speak for three days after that, he had just lain in that hospital bed staring at his veins and wondering why him….but when he asked Dean, his brother refused to explain, Sam wasn’t sure if Dean truly knew or if he didn’t trust the person…demon….that had told him.

They left the hospital nearly three weeks later after explicit instructions to take it easy, to attend all check ups as required and to keep up his physical therapy…they insisted also that Sam visit a therapist, something both brothers declined.

They went home. To their small house, their familiar beds, their bouncing beast of a dog and a live in nanny, AKA Bobby.

In the months that followed he found it strange how being in the hospital pushed everything from his mind, but stepping out into the real world made it all a brutal reality…nothing had ever affected him in the way that Gordon had before. Shadows had scared him, loud noises had made him jump and he suffered terrible nightmares for months. He woke up many a time looking up into his brother’s worried eyes and thinking about how he was too old to be so afraid of a dream…he should have been passed fearing what he sees in his mind.

When his fifteenth birthday rolled around and Dean asked him what he wanted to do for it….he said he wanted to hunt. They hadn’t hunted once since Gordon and Sam wanted to prove that the fears he had could be overcome, he had fought to get rid of the nightmares, had fought until he got past the point of jumping at all shadows and at that time the only thing he wanted to do was prove to his brother that he could start fighting for others again, that he was trustworthy enough to watch his brothers back.

On the third of May, one minute after midnight, he stared down at the charred, barely recognisable Wendigo and let a wobbly grin stretch across his face, before he looked up at his brother. He had dropped his flare gun and rubbed away some blood from a small cut on his face, though his hand had stilled on the slightly raised scar on his right cheek.

Dean had nodded at him and offered him an encouraging smile and his hand had dropped from his face with a smirk adorning his features and a spark in his eyes that he himself could feel. They began hunting more frequently after that.

It was a few months after his fifteenth birthday when his brother pushed him out of bed and told him to get up and get dressed. On entering the living room, his shoes were shoved in his hands and he had been instructed to meet him outside.

He knew it had been early and with no hunt currently ongoing he had planned to just sleep for a little bit longer and when he had stepped outside, he remembered grumbling and moaning when Dean came up from behind and covered his eyes.

‘Dean it’s early, what are you doing?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

‘And you need to cover my eyes why?’

‘Because it’s a surprise.’

‘OW!’

‘Watch your step, there’s a pot there.’

‘Appreciate it if you could warn me a little earlier, or you know, not direct me in the direction of the inanimate objects.’

‘Stop your bitching; you’re like a girl. Its bad enough I have to deal with your freaking hormones and constant whining.’

‘We’ve stopped moving, are you going to keep complaining or actually show me this surprise.’

‘Fine….keep your eyes closed…are they closed.’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay….ready….open them.’

‘ The Impala, your surprise is the car? I’m not washing it.’

‘No…that’s not it…though-’

‘No.’

‘Fine. You remember how to drive right.’

‘Yeah….really? Really!?’

The feeling as his brother had thrown the keys his way and held out a licence with his “new” birth year on it, was overwhelming, he’d only driven twice since leaving Bobby’s house ten years ago, once when Dean had collapsed when he’d come back from a hunt and he needed to gather supplies quickly and he hadn’t wanted to walk the twenty minutes it took to get into town…Dean didn’t know about that time…and when he had stayed at Bobby’s one time and the older hunter had let him drive an old Mustang from one end of the Yard to the other, Dean hadn’t known about that one either.

The minute he had sat in the driver’s seat and clasped the wheel in his hands, a grin so large had stretched across his face. His brother had joked something beside him as he climbed into the passenger seat of the classic ’67 Impala and slouched low in the seat, looking so confident and relaxed.

The rumble of the engine around him made him smile and as he moved the car into gear and reversed he realised Dean was still sitting with a expression of complete trust, that it for a minute actually unnerved him…he hadn’t driven the Impala for years, but his brother was just allowing him to take it for a drive.

‘You’re doing fine Sammy; you know this car inside and out.’

He had actually stopped and it wasn’t till Dean had spoke did he realise he had been white-knuckling the wheel. Dean had offered him one of those encouraging smiles that seemed to be used more since he had reverted than he had when Sam had been twenty five and had squeezed his shoulder gently and then sat back against the door.

He had taken a deep breath and started again. Fifteen minutes later and he was doing sixty down an empty country road, Dean had the window down and had put AC/DC on at a low level and Sam felt like he had just gained a whole lot more of the independence he had lost.

‘So….Our next hunt…Can I drive us there?’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘So that’s a yes?’

‘Sam…You’re pushing it.’

The rumble of a familiar engine had Hunter darting up from the bed and out the bedroom door, his deep barks floating back up the stairs towards him.

‘Sam!?’

A now sixteen year old Sam lowered the book he had held up to his face and placed it on the nightstand. His brother’s voice called up to him again and he rolled off and hurried to the top of the stairs, leaning against the white banister.

‘Hey! Get your scrawny ass down here and help me would you! Hunter get off…and control your stupid dog!’

‘He’s just happy to see you.’ Sam said as he stopped at the bottom step and watched as Dean struggled to stay upright, as the shepherd mix leapt up to lick at his older brother’s face, while he attempted to keep hold of the six foot fir that he was also attempting to keep the dog from.

‘I’ve been gone fifteen minutes…how can he be this freaking happy.’

‘He’s always like this. Hunter sit!’

The dogs butt immediately hit the ground and Dean grumbled under his breath as Sam manoeuvred the mutt away and grabbed hold of the tree.

‘Get one big enough?’

‘You said last years tree was crappy, so I got you this one…if you’re not happy next time you can pick the fucking tree.’ Dean moaned as he and Sam moved the tree between them, until they finally got in the space between the television and sofa, where Sam had already placed the tree stand.

‘So Bobby called.’ Sam sat himself down on the sofa, leaving Dean to sit the tree up.

‘What did he say?’

‘He’s going to be a bit late.’

‘He’s not going on a hunt is he?’ Dean stood upright very quickly knocking against a photo frame stood beside the TV on the stand; the older brother had told Bobby that at the age he was, the hunting alone had to stop, the older man had very, very reluctantly agreed.

‘No….bad weather, but he’s sure it’ll calm by the end of the week. What’s in your pocket?’ Sam leant over and pulled some coloured envelopes from his brother’s coat.

‘Uh…one’s from Maggie, the silver, that’s from that blonde chick that’s crushing on you….whatsisnames daughter and the blue one was from Harry and the family.’ Dean paused for a second then let out a chuckle. ‘Oh god…we’re civilised…we’re on a first name basis with the local Butcher.’

Sam laughed. ‘I’m going to take Hunter out for a walk.’

‘He’ll be fine, just let him out front, it’s not like he’s got nowhere to go and I pulled the gate across at the end of the freaking drive….Go get the decorations.’

‘Fine….oh I found a hunt too.’

‘No hunts at Christmas.’ Dean said sharply, he turned to look at his younger sibling. ‘Did you grow in the fifteen minutes I was gone.’ He frowned.

‘What? No, why?’

‘Because you’re level with my nose now and I swear you weren’t this morning.’

‘Whatever….I still grow taller than you and you know it, so there’s no point in complaining about it. Where did you put the decorations?’

‘I think they’re under my bed.’ Dean turned back to the tree. ‘Is it lopsided to you?’

‘I’ve already hid the axe.’ Sam called back as he opened the front door, letting out Hunter, who was laid in front of it patiently. ‘That hunt-’

‘Christmas Sam!’

‘Come on Dean, its three more weeks till Christmas, Bobby can’t make it down here for a couple more days…we could wrap the hunt up and be back before he gets here and still have a whole two weeks to wait for Christmas to come. This spirits already killed three people…one was a kid…another was a mother of six, who now have to face Christmas without her.’

Dean was staring at his brother now, his green eyes watching his brother with exasperation. Sam was leaning against the door frame, his hazel eyes looking pleadingly at him.

‘Sammy.’ Dean ran a hand through his brown, grey flecked hair; brushing away some pine needles that had been shook loose. ‘Look…I’ll look it over and think about it….now would you just go and grab the freaking decorations.’

‘Fine….Oh and Ellen said she’ll be up Christmas morning.’

‘Thank god, that means I don’t have to cook.’

‘You don’t cook anyway!’ Sam’s muffled shout came from upstairs.

Dean rolled his eyes, his eyes landed on the knocked over frame and rising from the sofa he bent down and picked off the carpet, he flipped it around and set it upright again. A small smile tugged at his lips as he looked at the image of himself and Sam. His brother was thirteen in the photo and still hadn’t hit his growth spurt, Hunter was sat on Sam’s right, and the stupid dogs muzzle was open mid-yawn, while he had his arm around his brother’s shoulders. The two grinning, stood in front of their small white house, the Impala’s hood just in the shot on the left. There was a smudge of pink in the corner of the photo, where Bobby’s finger had got in the way.

A thump upstairs and his brother’s yell of, ‘Ew! Dean, what the fuck is this?!’ Made him chuckle as his brother probably discovered the half eaten sandwich, which had been under his bed for the last six months.

Glancing at the photo and then to the green fir tree that stood proudly, if a little lopsided, in their living room he smiled again. He knew that he had made the right choice….the age gap sucked, that he could see it in his brother’s eyes every time he complained about another grey hair, but Sam was alive and Sam was happy, he was still an adult in his mind, but Dean just felt that he had given Sam a second chance at a childhood….hell Dean was happy, he still hunted a lot, but having a home-base, it was…it was nice.

The only downside was that the demon was still out there, and Dean hadn’t caught any more signs of his appearance since Sam was twelve. He knew in another six years that they would be in for the fight of their lives, that he was certain….but for now….he just wanted to celebrate Christmas with his little brother.

‘What are you smiling at?’

Dean turned as Sam spoke; he hadn’t even heard him come down the stairs. ‘Nothing.’ He took the box from his brother and set it down. ‘Do you remember that Christmas in Iowa when you were seven?’

‘The first time?’ Sam chuckled.

‘Yes the first time.’ Dean rolled his eyes. ‘Dad got us that tiny tree and he stole those lights from that Gas Station. Decorated the whole motel room from top to bottom.’

‘He stayed all day with us, let me have some beer.’ Sam smiled. ‘Bought me that action figure…can’t remember which one.’

‘Optimus Prime wasn’t it?’ Dean lifted up the tangled lights, immediately shoving them Sam’s way.

‘Don’t know, but I remember that was the first year that Dad actually got a turkey, he flirted with that diner lady who cooked it and made us this huge meal.’

‘Got my first Colt 1911 that Christmas.’ Dean smiled, watching Sam trying to detangle the lights and getting more and more frustrated.

‘Best Christmas we ever had as kids.’ Sam paused long enough to think about it. ‘It’s been eleven years, but I still miss him.’ He sighed heavily lifting his hand and running a hand along the scar on his cheek, a habit he had picked up when he was worrying about something. ‘Do you think he’s still…in hell?’

Dean smiled softly to himself and Sam caught a flash in his brother’s eyes before Dean answered, ‘I’m sure he got out somehow…he’s Dad.’ They were silent for a while, before Sam let out a growl. ‘Having fun there.’

‘I told you to coil these.’

‘I couldn’t be bothered, besides its fun watching you trying to untangle it.’

‘You did this on purpose?’ Sam yanked at a knot. He growled again, ‘You’re such a jerk.’

‘Bitch.’ Dean snapped back, before bursting into laughter as Sam threw the lights at him and stormed off. He waited about a minute, before Sam stormed back in, he held the tangled lights up and Sam snatched them and walked back out. Sam was such a perfectionist; he’d keep trying until he untangled them.

Reaching into the box he pulled up the perfectly coiled lights he’d hidden and walked towards the tree, Dean smirked to himself. God he loved that he could still wind his little brother up.

END

Spiritwolf13: Okay, so if you’re reading this, you’ve actually braved the fic LOL. I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please read and review and tell me what you thought, I know the ending sucked. Maybe now I can concentrate on the fic I’m working on LOL. Oh and Thanks to all the support and reviews with Youth of Yesterday I really appreciated it guys.