New state, new town. That meant a new school and new opportunities.

Sam Winchester, 14, picked at his filthy fingernails that he had a habit of biting for years despite how revolting some found it. He fought monsters and supernatural beings for a living and even a hobby. What did other people know about what was or wasn't revolting?

He took a swig of water from his almost empty water bottle. He watched as trees and buildings merged together as a blurred mirage in front of his eyes as their father drove at the speed of what seemed to be light, but in reality, was simply just above 90 mph. His dad had a habit of driving like a maniac just like Dean did. Hell, Dean had learned to drive before Sam's current age of 14 and Dean was now 18. He wished that his father had trusted him enough to teach him how to drive like he did Dean at such an early age. Luckily, Dean had taught him a few tips and tricks to driving along the way while John was gone. Now that he thought about it, Dean had practically taught him everything that he knew, besides school.

He took another small sip of his water. The blurred mirage slowly focused as the sleek, charcoal black '67 Chevy Impala came to a halt as they pulled into the driveway of a musty and run down motel. The light green walls were dingy and looked as if they were rusted. The 'WELCOME' sign buzzed brightly despite that half of the letters failed to be lit and truly read 'WLCM'. Sam could just smell the oncoming onslaught of mold and other unknown odors that was about to surround them once in their room

Sam sighed, running his hair through his just-cut chocolate brown hair. He was used to having shaggy hair that, at least, covered his thin eyebrows. His father had gotten sick of how unkempt Sam's hair got so he gave Sam a haircut before they left their last motel. His hair was now, not super short, but just short enough for his eyebrows to be unveiled. His hair lay flat with the exception of the front part of his hair, which remained relatively unkempt, jutting out to the left looking as if his hair had been blow dried after spiking it. Sam had gotten rather slim in the past year, his jawline more defined than it had ever been, his arms stick-thin, his collarbones jutting out as if they were itching to pop out of his skin, and his ribs practically visible through his clothing.

At 14, Sammy looked as if he was a 20 some year old man compared to how baby-faced and childish he looked not even 2 years previous.

Dean looked rather mature himself, his usual spiked hair jutting forward with his thick eyebrows and narrow nose. He was more stocky than he used to be, with more muscle than anything.

Both boys had grown up to be handsome boys that the women, as well as monsters, just couldn't resist.

As the Impala came to a halt, John Winchester put the car in park and looked at his two boys, half expecting them to be asleep. To his surprise, both were awake. Dean had his headphones in blaring Peace Of Mind by Boston. Damn, was he surprised the kid could still even hear. He peered over his shoulder to look at his youngest. Sam was looking out the window, looking as if he was in deep thought. He left it alone, knowing that Sam was the introvert in the family, preferring not to dump his thoughts onto anyone else. He was quiet these days and was often quite keen to keeping to himself. He also had a new fascination with always having water on hand.

John shrugged it off and exited the vehicle, leaving the two boys to unload the car as he checked them in.

"Sammy, you awake back there?" Dean asked as he removed his earbuds and shut his blaring music off.

"Yeah." Sam said, still staring out the window lost in his random thoughts as he took a final sip of his water. After a moment, he shook his head and opened the car door, stepping out into the cool fall breeze. He peered at the trees beyond the motel, their splendor astonishing. Their were patches of bright greenery mixed with cool reds and yellows. It was beautiful to look at despite the gray-blue sky that signaled an oncoming storm approaching. He felt a few drops of moisture peck his cheeks and his forehead.

"Ah shit!" Dean said. Sam hadn't even noticed that he had exited the car. "Got caught right when it's about to pour!", Dean said shoving his earphones into his jacket pocket. Sam smirked at his older brother, his dimple perking out ever so slightly. He rolled his eyes. What a wuss.

"C'mon, shake a leg. I don't wanna be caught out here in the rain trying to carry our shit in.", Dean said, proceeding toward the back end of the car. Sam turned and dug out Dean's duffels as well as his own. Dean shouldered his own two bags of belongings as well as Sam's while Sam carried John's bags, which contained several weapons, his journal, and medical equipment in case of an emergency or an accident. Of course, they always had their stash of guns, knives, and every other weapon imaginable stocked in the trunk of the Impala.

Both boys carried their belongings near the motel when their father exited the front, carrying the keys for their room.

"Usual. One bathroom, one bedroom, and a living room/kitchen area. You boys take the bedroom and i'll take the couch.", John said gruffly. The man hadn't had a good night's sleep in almost a month and looked as if he had gotten hit by a truck. He handed both Sam and Dean a key for their room and entered their room, and set their bags down just as the rain pounded down. Sam peered at the ceiling as it sounded like bullets were pounding down on top of it. Sam shut the door with his foot, picking up his bags and heading into their room. He walked into a small room with one bed, a night stand, and a television. It was the size that a small play room in a doctor's office would be.

Sam swung his bags up onto his bed and set them down. He looked around the room and felt as if the walls would close in on him at any moment. He exited their bedroom as Dean pulled out the fast food that they had gotten just before arriving to the motel. The smell of greasy cheeseburgers and fries almost made Sam salivate.

"Here's yours, Sammy.", Dean said, pulling out a cheeseburger and a carton full of fries. Sam resisted the urge to tell Dean that he wasn't hungry, but he hadn't eaten at all today and it was already almost 6. He stiffened as he approached the table, and pulled out the chair, setting right next to Dean. He began picking at the burger until he couldn't resist any longer, and caved into temptation. He devoured the burger in about a minute and scarfed the fries down immediately after. Dean sat and watched Sam in amazement.

"Slow down, there killer. You'd think that little kids in Africa weren't starving.", Dean scoffed, smirking.

Sam pursed his lips, staring down at the table and his hands where his food was not even a second ago. Sam stiffened and excused himself, tossing his food wrappers in the garbage, proceeding to go into the tiny bathroom. Sam shut the door lightly and held his bloated stomach. He looked in the mirror and saw that his teeth were turning a tinged yellow color and had been over the course of several weeks. He observed and poked at the dark circles he had developed under his eyes as a result of lack of sleep over the past few weeks. He scowled at himself in the mirror. He hated what he was looking at.

He opened the seat of the toilet, bent over, and expelled every single bit of his just-eaten food.

AUTHOR'S NOTE : Hey y'all! I'M BACK! And so excited. I haven't been here since 2012 and it's now 2016? CRAZY. Anyway. So i've been going through a lot and i wanted to base this new story on my own troubles. This is quite a slow start but i really have always wanted to do this kind of story. Thanks for reading and i will def try and update ASAP.