Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to The CW or Supernatural.

AN: I had nothing better to do so I decided to sit down and write a little epilogue to the favorite story of mine, Bullies. Hope y'all like it! It's not betaed (not like any of my stories ever are) so sorry for any mistakes I might have missed.


Epilogue/Ending Chapter

As Dean pulled away from the high school parking lot he couldn't help but swing a glance in his little brother's direction.

"Dude, you look like crap," he said, taking in histhe other boy'sappearance. Split lip, slowly forming bruise on the whole left side of his face, and various other scrapes, scratches, and bruises on his arms and probably others scattered all over, hidden underneath clothing. Doesn't that look nice.

"Yeah, thanks," Sam mumbled, not having looked anywhere but out of the passenger side window since entering the car.

"We're gonna have to get you cleaned up before dad gets home, though," Dean informed the boy, before adding as an afterthought, "Man, he's going to have my ass when he sees you."

" 'm sorry," Sam whispered softly, a whisper that anyone but his big brother would have missed completely.

But not Dean.

"It's okay, kiddo, you did good."

"Are you kidding? I don't know what fight you saw, but I did not do good. Those guys beat my ass," Sam said, completely denying what his brother had said as true.

"Yeah, keyword there is guys. Sammy, you were outnumbered. It wasn't a fair fight. Four against one aren't the best odds in the world, and you did the best you could. All four of those guys were larger than you, older than you, and, oh yeah, did I mention there were four?" Dean said, agitated at the fact that Sam thought less of himself.

Sam just continued to hold his trance-like gaze out of the window, as if in a deep thought, before he turned his head slightly to the left and replied, "You really think I did good?"

And just that on question made Dean want to go back to that school and beat the shit out of all four of those guys again. He really didn't care if he was eighteen, just hearing Sam sound that unsure of himself made his eyes turn red.

"Yes, Sam. You did real good. I bet if it had just been you and that big guy, what's his name?" Dean asked, not really caring, but wanting to know some more of the names to go with faces.

"Kevin," Sam revealed, really hating that name now.

"Yeah..so I bet if it had just been you and Kevin, you would've probably beat his ass into the ground twice over before I would have even gotten there. You're a better figher than he'll ever be."

"Thanks Dean...I really appreciate that."

"So, you're good now?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Well, that's good, 'cause you know how much I hate these lifetime moments you love to inflict upon me. You do remember the time I said that channel should be banned from every T.V. in the world, right?"

"Oh yeah, I remember that. It was just after that one movie, you know...the one where you teared up when the girl died of a brain tumor."

"Dude, I didn't tear up, I had something in my eye. And even if I did, it's not like it was over nothing. That had to be one of the saddest movies I have ever seen."

"Dean, you do know it was fake, right?"

"Of course I know it was fake! No duh, dipstick. But hey, now that I think of it, I can picture a little Sammy wammy crying next to me on the sofa. Dude, you were practically hugging me."

"I was six!"

"So, that doesn't give you the right to hug me."

"Oh get over it. You were crying, too. Don't try to deny it now, I was there."

"All right, all right. Enough. Let's just get home and get you cleaned up before Dad sees you like this."


John Winchester slowly exited his truck, which was parked neatly next to Dean's Impala, before quietly entering the apartment.

The room was dark, it being around half past ten, so he figured the boys were already in their room.

Dropping his things off on his bed, John went to go check on his boys.

Noticing the light shining through the cracks between the door and the carpeted floor, he softly knocked.

After waiting a few seconds and hearing no reply, John turned the handle and pushed open the door.

And, as he had assumed, the boys were already fast asleep in their own beds.

Walking to stand in between the two beds, John looked down at his sleeping boys.

What the...?

Noticing the dark bruise on Sam's face, John reached out and softly ruffled the kid's already shaggy hair.

Ahhh, must've been a great first day. I'll just have to find out about it in the morning.

And with that, John turned and walked to the doorway, before turning to take one last look at his boys.

And there was Dean, one eye opened, looking straight at him.

Giving him a slight nod, John exited the room.

Good job, Dean.


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