Disclaimer – I do not own Supernatural, or any of the characters here. Wish I did, but I don't.

A/N: I know I'm in the middle of another story, but I just had this scene stuck in my head and I'll never be able to go on with the other story if I didn't get it out. So here it is, little Dean and Sam. Oneshot. Review please!

Someone got in the classroom, handing Mrs. Lewis a note. She read it, pushing her huge glasses up her nose a little. The classroom was quiet, the children all working on the test in front of them.

"Dean Winchester, the principal would like to see you." Mrs. Lewis called. Dean raised his head from his test. Now? What did he do now? He wondered. Dad would be angry, he wasn't supposed to get in anymore trouble, he'd promised. And he was doing well on the test. He'd actually studied for it.

"Now, Mrs. Lewis?" Dean asked, making sure. She gave him a slight nod.

"You can leave your test on my desk, Mr. Winchester." She said. Dean hesitated, but then got up, packing his things, and walked over to his teacher's desk. He wasn't going to get in anymore trouble. Shouldering his schoolbag, the thirteen year old boy made his way to the principal office. It was a path he knew all too well. His frequent tardiness, absences and grades bought him an uncomfortable familiarity with the headmistress of the school he had only attended in the past three months. The secretary took the note from Dean, telling him to sit by the door and wait to be called. Dean obeyed, shuffling toward the little row of chairs just outside the principal's office, already thinking of various excuses that might get him off the hook.

A couple of minutes later, Mrs. Reed popped her head out of her office.

"Dean, son, would you come in?" she asked, immediately lighting a warning sign in Dean's mind. Since when does she call me son? He shouldered his bag again and got inside the office. Mrs. Reed smiled at him, motioning him to sit down. Dean's heart started beating a little faster. "I know I pulled you out of a test, I'm sorry." She started. Yeah, right. Dean thought, but didn't say anything. "I'm afraid I have some bad news, son." There she was, calling him son again. Wait, what bad news? Dean's heart started racing. "I just got a call from the hospital. I'm sorry, son," she sighed, looking at him, "it's your father." Dean's heart skipped a bit. He swallowed hard, going all white in the face.

"My dad? What do you mean, what happened?" Dean asked nervously.

"I'm not sure." Mrs. Reed said. "But Mr. Scott will drive you there right away." Dean got to his feet, but they buckled from under him and he fell back in the chair. His stomach was contracting. "Are you all right, son?" Mrs. Reed asked quickly, getting to her feet and walking over to him. Dean gave a slight nod, getting back up. The headmistress called for his gym teacher, Mr. Scott, and he drove Dean to the hospital. Mr. Scott was very reluctant to leave Dean alone at the hospital, but Dean had insisted. He made his way to the nurses' station, and a nurse took him to see his father.

John was unconscious, but he must have been awake earlier, otherwise they wouldn't know to contact the school. That gave Dean some hope. His father was seriously injured, a doctor had told him. Something slashed him up pretty good, causing damage to his internal organs. Dean stood there, watching his father lying in that hospital bed as the doctor tried to explain about the surgery his father required. Dean stared at all the tubes and wires his father was hooked up on, and fought his panic, fought the tears that threatened to blind him. Something must have gone wrong with the hunt. Dean only hoped that his father had caused more damage than he had sustained. The doctor told him they needed to get his father ready for surgery, telling Dean he could wait in the waiting area and someone would come looking for him when it was all over. Dean gave a small nod.

"He's going to be okay though, right? You're going to fix him?" he asked, looking pleadingly at the doctor. The doctor sighed, promising Dean they would do their best.Dean noticed the doctor didn't say his dad was going to be all right.

Dean didn't go to the waiting area. He walked back to school instead. It took him more than an hour to get there, but he didn't get in. He walked on to Sam's school instead. He couldn't take the bus. Dad had only left him with enough money for food, and it had almost ran out.

The schoolyard was empty when Dean got there. Good, he thought, at least I'm not late. He hesitated a moment whether to get in and pick his younger brother up from his class, or wait for him at the gate, as he usually did. If they'd told Sammy about dad, he'd probably be at the principal's office, waiting for me to pick him up, Dean thought, on the other hand, if they hadn't told him, I'd just scare him. He decided to wait at the gate.

Dean smiled a small smile when he saw his younger brother coming out of the building, and waved at him. Sam quickly made his way to Dean, looking excited. Dean suppressed a sigh of relief. Good. They hadn't told him. He doesn't know.

"Dean! Guess what? I got an A on my math test!" Sam announced, "And, I got an B+ on my midterm paper, the one you helped me with!" he said excitedly. Dean smiled.

"That's great Sammy." He said.

"You think dad would be happy?" Sam asked as they started their way to the motel they currently resided in. Their father never really cared for the grades they got, as long as they didn't fail all their classes and didn't get into trouble. For some reason however, Sam did care. A lot.

"I'm sure he will be, Sammy." Dean said, smiling at his little brother.

"He's coming back tonight, right?" Sam asked, "I need him to sign a form for school. We're going on a field trip next week, and we have to hand the forms in by tomorrow." Sam went on.

"I don't think he'll be coming home today. Maybe in a couple of days." Dean said, fighting the tears back again. "I can sign the form for you, I can forge dad's signature pretty well, if you want." He suggested.

"Yeah, okay." Sam said simply, stopping before crossing the road. "So how did your test go?" he asked Dean. Dean blinked. For a moment, he didn't understand what Sam was talking about. And then he remembered.

"It was good. I think I aced it." He said. Sam seemed very pleased to hear that.

"Hi, Dean, can we order pizza tonight?" Sam asked, looking up at his older brother.

"Not tonight, Sammy." Dean said. He had to be extra-careful with the money now. Make sure Sam had enough lunch money to last until dad came home. If dad ever came back.

"Why not?" Sam protested.

"Because I said so." Dean said. "I tell you what, I'll make you spaghetti tonight. What do you say?" he suggested.

"But I want pizza." Sam insisted.

"Fine!" Dean said eventually, growing tired with his little bother's pleading looks. "I'll get you pizza!" he snapped. A quick calculation told him that would leave just enough money for Sam's lunch for the next couple of days, and then they would be completely out of money. He didn't know what to do. But he would have to figure it out. Dad counted on him to take care of Sammy, no matter what. He wasn't going to tell Sam about dad, and how serious his situation was. Why worry him? Dean thought to himself as he opened the door to their shabby motel room. He's just a kid