AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

DISCLAIMER: Don't own this at all! Just playing around with the characters. :)

SPOILER: If you haven't seen"something wickerd"I guess you could be spoiled a bit...

SUMMARY: Responsibility is a tricky thing, but in this story three people try their best... Sam/Dean childhood story. NO INCEST!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first real atempt to write a Supernatrual story and I really hope you will like it. Reviews, good or bad is very welcome!

My first language is not English and eventhough I have the best beta there is, bare with us if we missed something, OK?

Thanks to Bee and Joey for a never ending suport! I owe you big time!


"Come on," Dean whispered and gently pushed the giggling girl through his bedroom door and down on his bed. "I'm gonna make you a very happy woman." She giggled again as Dean started to tug on her t-shirt. "But you gotta be quiet."

He didn't really know why he said it. It wasn't like someone would bother them anyway. His father was out on another haunting trip and at the age of eleven, Sammy knew better than to bother Dean when he had company, but still he felt the need to say it. Dean guessed it was because he didn't want Sammy to wake up. He'd recently been sick – again – and needed all the rest he could get.

"Dean? Is something wrong?" There was uncertainness in the girl's voice.

Dean realized he'd zoned out and stopped touching her and he quickly got back to the task on hand. He was just about to make the final move when he felt her stiffen beneath him. He lifted his head to be able to look into her eyes; prepared to let her go if she had changed her mind. After all, he was a gentleman, not a bastard. It was then he realized she wasn't paying attention to him anymore; instead her big blue eyes were trained at the door. A surge of fear rushed through his veins as he feared something supernatural had come to visit, but before he could spring into action, the girl whispered, "Dean, there's a kid in the doorway."

Dean relaxed. It was only Sammy, but then he tensed up again. Why the hell was Sammy here? He knew better than do bother him, unless something was wrong…. Dammit! Dean quickly turned around; just as Sam disappeared through the door, quick as a squirrel.

"Sammy, wait," Dean yelled and struggled to put on his jeans at the same time he ran.

He went out into the hallway, just in time to see Sam disappear around the corner.

"Sammy, wait," he called again. "Dammit, Sammy, can you just stop! I'm not mad. I just wanna talk to you!"

He rounded the corner and found Sam standing in the middle of the kitchen floor with his back to Dean, waiting for him to catch up. Dean went up to him and gently put a hand on his shoulder. "What's up, Sammy?"

"Nothing," Sam answered quietly, without turning around.

Dean frowned. Something was definitely wrong. He moved to stand in front of his brother, trying to get a better look at him, but Sam kept his gaze firmly trained on the floor.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Sammy. You wouldn't come barging through the door when I have company if nothing was wrong."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I thought you were alone. It's nothing important. It can wait until tomorrow."

"Look, Sammy, it's OK. Really. You didn't bother me. I'm always here for you if you need me. You know that, right?"

"I know. I just thought you needed some time off. You've been looking after me all week. I don't wanna be a burden to you."

Dean hated that Sammy thought he was a burden to him and he hated the fact that he wouldn't look up at him even more. He knelt down in front of his brother and carefully lifted his chin so he would be able to look into his eyes when he replied, "You will never be a burden to me, do you hear? You're the most important ting in my life – always will be, OK?"

Sam nodded and Dean could see in his eyes that he really believed him.

"Now, come on. Tell me what's wrong. Do you feel sick again?" he asked and put a hand on his brother's forehead to check for a fever.

His heart was beating hard in his chest. He hated when Sammy was sick. It made him go almost crazy with worry. But Sam's forehead was cool to Dean's touch and he shook his head "no" in response. Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

"Then what? Did you have another nightmare?"

Sam shook his head once more and Dean started to feel desperate. He knew something was wrong. He could feel it. So why the hell didn't Sammy just tell him?

"Come on, Sammy! Spit it out!" he said impatiently and grabbed Sam's arm.

Sam gave out a small cry and took a step back, cradling his right arm against his chest.

"Sammy?" Dean asked in alarm. "Is something wrong with your arm?"

Sam nodded, tears of pain sparkling in his eyes.

"What happened? Did something attack you?" Dean asked with fear in his voice. The thought that he had left Sammy alone to deal with something supernatural, while he was trying to get laid, made it hard to breathe.

"No," Sam whispered. "I fell."

"Fell?" Dean asked doubtfully. "By yourself?"

Sam looked down on the floor again.

"Come on, Sammy. Tell me the truth."

"Some of the older kids beat me up on my way home," Sam confessed quietly and Dean could tell he struggled not to cry.

Dean cursed under his breath. The one time he didn't pick Sam up…. He didn't get why the other kids always picked on Sam. Sure he was kind of small and thin for his age but he didn't stand out that much…or maybe he did….

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I should have picked you up."

"It's OK. I need to learn to take care of myself," Sam answered bravely.

Dean suppressed a sigh. He knew Sam was right. The problem was that Sam really sucked at it, and Dean wished he knew a way to make Sam stronger and more independent.

"Come on. Let me take a look at that arm of yours."

Sam obediently held out his arm for Dean to see. It was swollen to double its size over the wrist and when Dean touched it, Sam started to cry.

"Damn it, Sammy! I think it's broken! Why didn't you tell Dad?"

"I did, but he told me to stop acting like a baby and that I'd feel better later."

Dean cursed under his breath once more.

"He was in a hurry," Sam said in an attempt to defend their father.

Dean clinched his teeth and tried not to think of how much he wanted to kick his father's ass. He knew it could be worse – a lot worse. He had met at least a dozen kids over the years who'd had worse parents than their father, but he sure as hell wasn't a candidate for the father of the year award either.

"But why did you wait until now to tell me?"

"I didn't know where you were."

Dean swallowed hard and ran his hand over Sam's hair. "I'm sorry. From now on I'm gonna make sure you always know where to find me, OK?"

"Thanks," Sam smiled and moved closer to Dean, letting out a moan when he moved his arm.

"It really hurts, huh?"

Sam nodded again.

"Please tell me you at least were smart enough to take something for the pain while you waited for me to get home."

Sam averted his eyes.


"We're out of children's Tylenol."

For the third time that night Dean cursed under his breath. How could he be so fucking stupid? He knew they were out of them. He had given Sam the last one two days ago and, considering Sam's poor health and how easily he hurt himself, children's Tylenol was as important as food in their house. And still he had forgotten all about it. His inability to focus on anything but girls had cost Sam pain and right now that made him no better than their father.

"God, Sammy. I'm sorry."

Sam gave him a weak smile, his eyes telling Dean he was forgiven.

"Dean? What's going on?" A soft female voice asked from behind, making Dean jump in surprise. He had forgotten all about the girl in his bedroom.

He turned around and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, honey, but I think I need to take a rain check on the rest of our date. My brother here seems to have hurt himself."

"Yeah?" She moved closer. "What's wrong?"

"I think his arm is broken."

"Really. Let me have a look"

"No, it's OK. I've already checked," Dean said and protectively placed himself between Sam and the girl.

"Come on, Dean. I have four brothers. I know everything about broken arms. I won't hurt him. I promise."


Dean moved away and the girl walked up to Sam.

"Hi, there, sweetie. I'm Donna. What's your name?"

"Sam," Sam answered shyly.

"Nice to meet you, Sam. Can I take a look at your arm?"

Sam looked over at Dean. He nodded slightly and Sam held out his arm for Donna to see.

"Oh my God! This is definitely broken. What happened?"

"I fell when they pushed me."

Donna looked sceptically at him. "Must have been a hell of a fall."

"Are you lying to me, Sammy?" Dean asked sternly.

"OK, so maybe someone stepped on it," Sam answered, his voice so low it was almost a whisper.

Dean closed his eyes and promised himself to beat the crap out of whoever was responsible for this as soon as he got a chance.

"Dean, he needs to go to the hospital."

"I know. I call you later, OK?"

"I can get with you if you want," Donna offered softly.

Dean gave her a weird look. "What the hell for?"

"I just thought you could use the company. It might take a while."

Dean shrugged. "What ever rocks your boat, honey. Sammy, go and put on your jacket."

"I can't. My arm doesn't fit in it."

The defeated look on Sam's face almost broke Dean's heart and he reached out and tousled Sam's hair. "Don't worry about. I'll get you one of my sweaters, OK?"


Dean went to his room, took one of his biggest sweaters out of the closet, and helped Sam to put it on, taking the opportunity to put on the rest of his own clothes, too.

"OK, come on. Let's go. Do you think you can hold on to me with one arm when we're riding the bike?"

"Dean, are you nuts? You're not really planning on taking him to the hospital on your bike, are you?"

"Why not?"

"Come on, Dean! Look at him! He's in a lot of pain and you don't even have a painkiller to give him!"

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do, huh? I don't have a car and no money for a cab. The bike is all I have!" Dean shouted angrily, although he wasn't really angry. He was more embarrassed that Donna knew about the children's Tylenol, and God knows what else. There was no way to tell how long she had been listening.

"I have money. I got paid today. I can pay for the cab," Donna offered quietly.

Dean shook his head. "No way. I can't take your money."

"Come on, Dean. It would only be a loan. Think of Sammy."

"I'll be OK on the bike," Sam chimed in, but Dean could see the pain in his eyes.

Dean hesitated. It was obvious that Sam was in a great deal of pain and Dean knew he was the one to blame for it. He was the one who had left Sam alone and he was the one who had forgotten to buy Tylenol, and deep inside he knew he owed it to Sam to swallow his pride and take the money. But it was hard because his dad had taught him differently.

"Please, Dean. You'd do the same for one of my brothers if the situation was reversed."

Dean knew Donna was right and that helped him make up his mind. If he could do it for someone else he could definitely do it for his brother.


"Good, I'll call one," Donna said with a huge smile.

Dean carefully put his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Come on, Sammy. Let's wait outside."

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you hear?" His voice was steady and firm and left no room for doubt or arguments.

Sam nodded and they waited in silence.

Once inside the cab, Donna turned to Dean and asked, "What kind of story do we go by?"

"What do you mean?" Dean replied defensively.

Donna bit her bottom lip. "It's just that I don't think the truth is your best bet here. The social services are very ardent around here."

Dean sighed heavily. Great. Just what he needed.

"I played soccer and someone accidentally stepped on my arm," Sam suggested.

"Good, good," Donna nodded in approval. "But we need one to explain why we didn't show up until now."

"My dad had already left for work – he works nights – and I fell asleep waiting for Dean."

"Great! You're brother is a smart kid," Donna said, smiling brightly at Dean.

Dean just nodded in reply, not sure if he should be sad or happy that Sammy already was such a great liar.


"OK, Sammy boy, let's get you home," Dean said and carefully lifted Sam off the exam table.

Thankfully enough, the whole thing had gone very smoothly. The hospital was a community one that treated uninsured patients, which meant Dean didn't need to worry about how he'd be able to pay the bill. The doctor had bought all their lies without any hesitation and the bones in Sam's arm hadn't been dislocated, so all he needed was a cast.

But the doctor had given him a rather strong painkiller and he was pretty out of it, so Dean figured the easiest way to get him to the cab was to carry him. Donna held the door open for them and then climbed in next to them and closed the door. Sam immediately fell asleep against Dean's shoulder.

Donna watched them for a few moments. "I think someone is pretty out of it."

Dean smiled. "Looks that way, yeah."

Donna continued to watch them for a bit longer before she hesitantly asked, "Isn't he a bit tiny for his age?"

The smile quickly disappeared from Dean's face. "Yeah, he always has been, but no one really knows why."

"Well, I guess all kids are different."

Dean shrugged. "I guess."

He tried to sound like it was no big deal, but thing was that he knew exactly why Sam was so thin and small and his health so poor. It was because it took Dean at least six years to learn how to cook proper food, which meant that Sam had been pretty much undernourished for the better part of his life. And that was a big deal to Dean because that meant he had failed his job as Sammy's keeper. He was much better at it now, though, and two years ago he even forced himself to read a book on how to eat right. It had almost bored him to death but he had done it for Sam. So for at least two years now, Sam had gotten proper healthy food, but it didn't seem to help and Dean feared it was already too late.

When they got home, Dean put Sam – who was out like a light – in bed and carefully tucked him in. He turned off the light and carefully slipped out through the door. Donna waited for him in the hallway.

"How is he?"

"He's OK. He's still out like a light."

Donna smiled. "Maybe that's for the best."

Dean ran a hand over his hair. "Yeah, probably. Look, I'm really sorry. I know this date kind of sucked, but I'm gonna make it up to you, OK? And I'm gonna pay you back the money – every cent of it."

"I know you will." Donna eyed him fondly. "And like I said; I have four brothers. I know how it is."

Dean sighed heavily. "I honestly don't know how you do it. I just barely manage to handle Sammy, and he's not even all that difficult."

"He seems like a really good kid."

"He is."

There was a brief silence and then Donna said, "I think you're doing a great job, Dean, and it's a lot easier for me. I'm not alone. My parents are there doing the main part of the job."

Dean stiffed, his guard immediately up. "So does my Dad."

"Somehow I doubt that," Donna replied softly.

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "I'll call you this weekend, OK? Maybe we can catch a movie or something."

"Sounds great, but if you want, we can rent a movie instead and watch it here. You know, so we can keep an eye on Sammy."

In that moment Dean almost loved her and he quickly decided that if he ever got married it would be to someone like her – someone who understood things and cared for Sammy just as much as he did. He took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.


The sound of the doorbell rang through the house. Donna looked up from her homework and yelled, "Simon! Get the door!"

Nothing happened and she stood up with a sigh to get the door herself. She was more than a little surprised to see Sam Winchester outside on the front porch.

"Sammy! What a nice surprise! How's your arm?"

Sam smiled shyly. "Fine thanks. I got a new cast today." He held up his arm for her to see. "And the doctor said I'm healing nicely."

Donna smiled softly. "That's great, Sammy."

Sam nodded and shifted nervously.

"So what brings you here? Did Dean send you?"

Sam shook his head and shifted once more.

Donna took a step closer to Sam, hoping to make him feel a bit more comfortable. It was obvious to her that the boy was nervous as hell and if she had been dealing with one of her own brothers, she would assume they had done something bad. But she doubted it was the case with Sam. He didn't seem to know how to be bad, and just about everything made him nervous.

"Sammy, is something wrong?"

Sam shook his head again and held out his hand. "I just wanted to return your money."

"Oh, Sammy! That's sweet of you! But you can keep your money. Dean has already paid me back."

"I know he has, and that's why you two have been hanging around our house the past two weeks, right? Because Dean's broke."

"True," Donna replied simply.

She knew that wasn't the whole truth. But she wasn't about to tell Sam that. That boy was self-conscious enough already.

"Then just take it. Take Dean to a movie or whatever you guys do." Sam blushed furiously.

"That's awfully sweet of you, Sammy, but I can't take your money. Where did you get that kind of money anyway?"

"I got it for my birthday, from my aunt."

"Sammy, I can't take your birthday money. You understand that, right?"


"No, Sammy. I'm sorry."

"But you have to," Sam said desperately.

"I can't."

"But you love Dean, right?"

"Yeah, but…."

"Then you have to do it for him. He deserves it. You have no idea what an awful life he has. He always has to take care of me because Dad is never at home, and I'm always sick and, and…." Sam's voice failed him and his eyes filled with tears.

Donna felt her heart break. She had felt heartbroken and confused when she overheard Sam and Dean's conversation in the kitchen that night. Sure she loved her bothers and took responsibility for them, but what Dean did was something very different, and his devotion to Sam, something the sixteen year old girl had had hard time grasping at the time. To see that Sam was just as devoted to Dean, shook her world. She didn't know much about life but she was sure kids weren't supposed to take that kind of responsibility for each other. But life was life and it was never perfect, that she knew for sure and those two were really trying, and she really wanted to help them. And, besides, she loved Dean.

"OK, Sammy." She reached out and took the envelope from Sam's outstretched hand.

Sam rewarded her with a big smile before running down the street.


Sam lay awake in his bed, wishing that Dean would come home soon. It wasn't that he was afraid or anything, but he started to feel sleepy and he wanted to find out if his plan had worked out before he fell asleep.

The decision to give Donna his birthday money had been an easy one. She was nice, the nicest girl Dean had had this far, but more important – Dean deserved it. Actually Dean deserved a lot more but this was all Sam had to give – this and his big plan….

Sam wasn't stupid. He knew he was a burden to Dean, no matter what Dean said. Dean had spent his whole life taking care of him and Sam knew Dean loved him and would do anything for him. Over the years he had been everything to Sam, dad, brother, best friend, nurse…. He had done a great job, but it was time to let him off the hook. Dean needed his freedom. Sam knew that. He had read it in a book – several books, actually.

When Dean started to get interested in girls two years ago, Sam had read every book he could find about teenagers and they all said the same. It was a normal pattern, where the teenagers broke free from their parents and formed their own life and it was important for the parents to let go. But Sam knew that in Dean's case it wasn't the parents who were the problem, because their mother was dead and their father didn't give a shit about them and they both knew it. In Dean's case, Sam was the problem. Their father had burned into Dean's mind that Sam was his responsibility and his only, and Dean would never let go as long as he thought Sam needed him. So Sam's big plan was to grow up.

He had turned twelve last week and that was the day he had set as a start for his big transformation. From that day on he'd do anything to get strong, fearless an independent and when Dean realized Sam was able to take care of himself; he would let go and get his own life – get happy.

That was the plan, anyway and Sam was dead set to make it work, no matter what it took, because no one deserved to be happy and free more than Dean. Sam was already working hard to make it work. He ate more. He had started to really listen to what Dad and Dean tried to teach him, and he had talked Dean into help him with weight lifting. Sam was planning on getting big, strong, brave, independent and fearless – just like Dean.

Suddenly, he heard Dean's keys in the lock and Donna's giggling and a big grin spread across his face. Dean was definitely going to get laid tonight – just as Sam had planed. It was important to a teenage boy's confidence to get laid. Sam knew that because that was what the books said—not in those exact words, of course. He buried his head in the pillow and let sleep take him, feeling happier than he had in a long time, because tonight the sound of his brother getting laid on the other side of the wall didn't bothered Sam at all.