A/N: This will be another story that consists of one shots. These one shots will take place in the years before Sam heads off to college. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if I should continue with this story or if I should just have it as a one shot.
It had been one year since the little boy's mother had died. One year since he had lived in the beautiful two story house in Lawrence, Kansas. 365 days since the brave child had run out of the burning house carrying his brother in his arms, away from the fire, away from the destruction, away from the demon, away from the mother who was burning on the ceiling, away from a life of comfort, love, warmth and normality.
Dean Winchester was now staying with a guy who lived in a church. He didn't understand exactly why they were staying with this man, but their father said it was important. Said that he needed to learn things and that this man who lived in the church could teach him those things.
Dean hadn't spoken since the night of the fire, so like always, he said nothing about the discomfort he felt at being in a stranger's home. Dean still remembered his mother telling him that he should never talk to strangers, and it seemed like all they were with were strangers now. Strangers who smiled and gave him cookies, asked his name, asked what toys he liked to play with, and then when he wouldn't answer any of their questions they would ask him about his baby brother that he never left. When that failed to produce a response out of the weary child they would look to John and ask him if the child was okay.
"Dean just hasn't spoken since his mother died. He used to be a chatter box. He just doesn't speak now." John said softly to Pastor Jim Murphy.
"It isn't unexpected. He saw something terrible. Demons are hard to get over when you are an adult, much less a child of four."
"I don't know what to do for him."
"Let God and Father Time take care of it. He'll be talking again before you know it."
"I hope you're right." Jim Murphy looked Dean and smiled.
"I am right. He will be fine. His soul is strong." John gave the man a wary look. "You believe that a demon took your wife, but you can't believe that your son has a strong soul?"
"I don't know…" John hedged. Honestly, ever since he found out that a demon took Mary from him, he wasn't too sure that God even existed. How could he exist, when he allowed evil to snuff his wife out of existence, leaving him broken with two children that desperately needed their mother? John ran a hand through his hair. "You said that you had some texts for me to read?" Jim nodded.
Dean found himself in a room that wasn't his, on a bed that had been other's before him, and where he wasn't surrounded by things familiar to him and listened to his baby brother breathe in the playpen next to his bed. The breathing was familiar, comforting, and eased his anxiety a little. He heard little Sammy coo in his sleep and Dean sat up and looked at his little brother. He decided that he looked lonely. He got out of his "big boy bed" and crawled in the playpen with Sammy. He felt safer when his brother was close. He felt like he was surrounded by the familiar. He pulled the blanket over the two of them and pulled his one year old brother closer to his chest and listened as Sammy readjusted and sucked at his thumb.
"I'm here Sammy." He said softly. Adults didn't think he spoke; he spoke, it was just the only person he allowed to hear it was Sammy.