Author: Mousitsa

Spoilers: None Rating: PG for slight language Setting: pre-series

Summary: weeChesters! Both boys are in elementary school and one day little Sammy provides his teacher with a little too much information about things that go bump in the night. Can there be dangerous repercussions? Prerequisite cuteness and brotherly fluff included. One shot.

Disclaimer: standard blah-blah applies. I don't own anything associated with Supernatural (other than my season one DVDs and a picture autographed by both 'boys' -- squeeee!). I hope Kripke doesn't mind too much that I borrow them to play with on occasion because they really are so much fun to play with. Truth is... they own ME, heart, mind and soul (damn you, Kripke!)

Notes: I absolutely love reading weeChester stories and there have been so many great ones posted here. But this is my first (and so far only) attempt at writing one myself. If it works, I might be inspired & encouraged to try it again. If it doesn't, then I'll stick to the big boy stories. Let me know either way... and be honest... constructive criticism doesn't bother me at all -- I thrive on it! Any and all mistakes are my own (mistakes? what mistakes?) I'm just glad that I was able to thwart away the Edit-Demon with some holy water long enough to post this (thanks to my friend Amy for letting me borrow it). Reviews are my only payment, so please don't make me work for free! ;)


Wilson Elementary School was turning out to be better than either Sammy or Dean had ever expected. Any time they usually transferred into a new school they had to deal with the same questions over and over again: where are you from? what brought you here? what does your daddy do? where is your mommy? And they always supplied the same stock answers, providing just barely enough information for the inquiring minds and, in the process, squelching the prying teachers' curiosity.

It had been almost a month in this new town, longer than the other times, but it was enough to actually get to know some of the other students and possibly make some friends -- distant friends, but friends nonetheless. Dean sat alone at a schoolyard table enjoying his lunch of a bologna sandwich, which his father had carefully packed that morning. The nice thing about having his father home and not off on a hunt was that he gladly carried out certain simple parental duties, like packing school lunches, thus giving Dean the chance to enjoy a little extra sleep and basically let his guard down and be a kid. A second bag packed with a similar lunch waited on the table. It was a warm and bright spring day, which gave the opportunity for the teachers to take pity on the students and actually release them from the claustrophobic confines of the cafeteria and allow them the occasion to enjoy their lunches outside. Unfortunately it was also too tempting to skip the meal altogether and just take up the whole lunchtime for play. Which was exactly what Sammy was doing. Any time you give a second grader a choice between play or more sitting, is there any doubt what he's going to choose?

"Sammy!" Dean called out, trying hard to get his little brother's attention for the second time. "Get over here, now!" He had to make sure that his brother supplied himself with some basic sustenance first and then he could go back to playing. Dean watched as Sammy continued to run and play and talk with a few of the other children. He worried that Sammy was setting himself up for disappointment by getting too close and friendly with Jimmy, David and Andrea. He worried that when it came time to move on, like they always did, he would be heartbroken again, like he always was.

Within a few seconds of yelling for Sam, Heather Richards walked slowly past Dean with a graceful swing in her hips and flashing a sweet smile. Her head was slightly tilted to one side and her big blue eyes made contact with his. Using a couple of fingers of her left hand she played with her long, wavy blonde hair and Dean was momentarily mesmerized. Hard to believe this girl was only in sixth grade, but then again he looked older and tougher than any other sixth grade boy she knew as well. "Hi, Dean," she smiled, her voice sounding like he imagined angels would sound. "Is anyone sitting here?" she asked, knowing full well that the table was completely empty, leaving an open opportunity for an invitation.

"I'm waiting for my brother." Heather seemed disappointed. It wasn't too often that boys turned down an offer for her company. But she was determined to not give up on this one so easily. "Well, maybe tomorrow then?"

"Yea sure, whatever." As Heather walked away, she flashed another flirtatious smile and connected her eyes once more to Dean's. He felt tempted to stop her, but like she said... there was always tomorrow.

"Damn it Sammy! I said get your ass over here right now!" the stern sound in Dean's voice finally got Sam's attention and he knew he had better not risk getting his brother any angrier. It also got the attention of one of the teachers on yard duty.

"Young man, watch your language, or you'll be doing detention!" Dean looked up at her, his innocent smile and deep green eyes momentarily melting her antagonism such that he quickly offered a fake apology. As Sammy sat down beside him he started taking out the contents of the small paper bag.

"Next time pay attention when I call you." A look of annoyance clouded his face. "Now hurry up or you won't have any time to eat." Dean set out the sandwich, chips, banana and apple juice is an orderly fashion. Sammy quickly reached for the chips, only to have the small bag taken out of his hand by his older brother. "Sandwich first, chips last." Reluctantly Sammy complied.

"So what did you learn in class today?" Dean's voice softened and a smile was slowly returning to his face.

"Mummies", Sam mumbled through a mouth full of bologna, Dean barely understanding the garbled word.


"Yeah, the teacher is tellin' us about ancient seeblizations."

"Civilizations," Dean restated the word enunciating each syllable and stressing the "v".

"Uh-huh, the 'geeptian kind. Long time ago, when people died, they didn't just bury 'em, they put a bunch of 'erbs an' oils on 'em, and then they wrapped 'em up to perverse the body."

"You mean 'preserve' the body," Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, that's what I said." Dean just sighed as Sammy continued with a sparkle in his eye. "It was s'possed to pre-serve the body so that the spirit would have a body for ever and ever and wouldn't just be walking 'round lost in the after life, which isn't good 'cause then the spirit can't get any rest. Some are like five thousand years old and they're buried in pyramids!"

Dean's eyebrows shot upward as he was somewhat impressed at all the details little Sammy remembered. The kid was like a sponge for information. Once he learned about something, he turned into a walking encyclopedia if the topic ever came up again. "You learned all that today, kiddo?"

"Uh-huh. And I even told the teacher that it's not good to have the spirit walkin' around for so long." Suddenly Dean's admiring smile disappeared from his face into a blank stare, afraid at where this conversation was heading.

"Sam, what else did you say?" The worry in his voice was becoming very evident.

"That the mummy needs to be salted and burned so that the spirit can go to heaven," Sam stated very matter-of-factly, with a proud grin on his face, while Dean's eyes widened in disbelief. And Sammy continued, "But only after you throw some holy water on it to make sure it's not a demon."

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean reached out and grabbed his little brother's shoulders with both hands, turning him so that he could look at him straight in the eyes, giving the little shoulders a sudden shake. "I thought we've talked about stuff like this. I thought you knew to keep your mouth SHUT about stuff like this! What's the matter with you?!"

Sammy stiffened under his brother's hold, seeing the combination of anger and fear in those deep green eyes, as Dean continued. "What else did you say!?"


"Are you sure?" Dean shook the little shoulders once again and Sam nodded. "Did she say anything to you?"

"That I have an active 'magination."

"That's it? Are you sure... nothing else?"

Sammy shook his head in the negative. "No Dean, nuthin, I swear." His big hazel eyes widened in fear -- not at his somewhat angry brother, but that he may have done something very wrong, because he could see the growing worry on Dean's face. Dean's hold relaxed with an exasperated sigh and Sammy leaned forward, throwing his arms around Dean's waist. He buried his face on his big brother's chest such that the only thing visible was a mop of brown hair. Little sniffles could be heard, muffled by Dean's shirt.

Dean was taken aback. He didn't expect Sam to have such an emotional reaction to all this. This was a bit overboard, even for the whining little squirt, such that Dean wondered if there wasn't some other factor motivating this response. He brought his right hand up and started rubbing Sam's back, trying his best to console him. He never intended to scare Sam like this and he immediately felt guilty for possibly doing so. "Hey, it's ok Sammy, it's ok."

Spurts of sniffles intermingled with tears and Sam's breathing started to hitch. "No... it's... not..." And more tears followed. "I don't want them to take me away again!" Sam cried out as he tightened his hold around his big brother's waist, holding on for dear life, such that Dean could barely breathe. "Please Dean, don't let them take me away!"

Dean shut his eyes and inhaled sharply against Sam's constriction, remembering the incident last year at Hartford Elementary. Sammy had gotten into the habit of drawing Devil's Traps all over his papers, spilling salt around his desk, and mumbling some incomprehensible words in what appeared to be Latin. His teacher thought this was unusual behavior for a first-grader and reported it to the principal. Soon, authorities were checking into John Winchester to make sure he wasn't some kind of satan-worshipping child molester. Dean remembered the nightmare of watching his little brother being dragged away by Child Protective Services. He was completely helpless to do anything about it as he hid away to prevent the same thing from happening to him. Sam kicked and screamed and called out his name in between the other screams for daddy, but he stayed hidden away, fighting every single instinct that urged him to leap out and go after his baby brother. Their father was devastated and furious, but remained calm and completely cooperative until that mess had been sorted out. It was five days before things were cleared up and Sam could return home. Five days of not knowing where his brother was or how he was being cared for. Five of the loneliest, saddest and most terrifying days of his life.

Dean gently put both arms around Sam, hugging his little brother close and leaning his face into that big brown mop of hair. "Don't worry Sammy, everything's ok," he whispered.

"I'm sorry Dean! Please don't let them take me away!" And the tears continued, breaking Dean's heart, and bringing back memories of that awful experience.

Dean gently dislodged Sam from his octopus hold and cupped the tear-drenched face in the palms of both hands. He looked straight into those big hazel eyes that have had a magical hold on him ever since he first saw them at the age of four. "You listen to me, kiddo... as long as I'm around, no one is taking you away. Not ever again, you hear me?"

Sam looked up at him, eyes wide with a hint of doubt, his breathing still hitching. He wanted to believe that his big brother could protect him from everything. Just as he always had up until now. Just as he had up until last year... until that one day when no one could protect him. Not even their father.

"You believe me, don't you Sammy?" Dean used his thumbs to gently wipe away some of Sammy's tears and waited for that nod of confirmation. And even if Sam had a hard time believing it right now, Dean believed it enough for the both of them. He was now older, bigger, better trained, and he was determined that no one would lay a hand on his little brother ever again. Not if he had anything to say about it. He released his hold of Sam's face and gently brushed the overgrown bangs from his eyes.

"I'm not gonna ever let anything happen to you, I promise. But you've gotta help me out, ok?" Sam looked up, questioning. "You gotta remember that there are some things that you can never talk about. Because other people just don't understand about the things we know, so you can never say anything. Do you understand?"

And Sam nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said softly, a lingering sadness still in his voice.

"All right then, everything's fine for now. You're not gonna say anything else about this stuff to no one. And if any teacher starts asking any more questions, you gotta to tell me and daddy right away, ok?"

"Right away!" Sam nodded enthusiastically.

"OK then," Dean smiled, exhibiting a sense of security at a potential disaster averted. "Finish your lunch, the bell will ring soon."

"I'm not hungry no more." Under any other circumstance, Dean would make sure the little tyke finished his lunch, even if he had to stuff it down his throat. But his heart went out to his little brother now for the apparent shock and fear he had just experienced all over again remembering the horror of being taken away last year.

"No problem, kiddo. We'll just have a really good dinner then. Maybe we can even get dad to get us some pizza." And a smile crept slowly across Sammy's face, eyes brightening once again just as the school bell rang recalling the students back to class. Dean took the napkin from his lunch bag, poured some water on it from his cup, and cleaned Sammy's face with it, wiping away all traces of recent tears. With a playful ruffle of the hair, he told Sammy to behave, reminded him once again what they had just talked about, and scooted him off. Having lost his appetite as well, he combined the uneaten portions of both lunches into one bag and watched as Sam disappeared into his second grade classroom.

He paused for a few seconds and took a few deep breaths, with each exhale trying to release the constrained tension and uneasiness that had just built up inside him. Tension that could easily crush an adult, much less a child on the brink of being a teen. He had tried as hard as he could to put on a game face, for Sammy's sake, but in reality he was simply terrified too. Terrified that another teacher would once again get too suspicious and last year's nightmare would be repeated all over again. As he began walking towards his own classroom, he wondered how many more close calls they would have. He wondered how many more times someone or something would try to take his little brother away. How many more times he would feel such terror and worry rip right into his very heart and soul. But it didn't matter because he was determined to stop them all. No one or nothing would ever be allowed to hurt his family. Not if he had anything to say about it. And if they did, it would most certainly be over his dead body. Of that Dean was certain, even at the ripe old age of twelve.


A/N: If you made it this far, then I thank you for taking the time to read. Now just hit the little blue button ... even a simple "I loved it / liked it / hated it" will suffice, and anything more substantial will enthrall :))))