A/N: That's what comes outta my mind at 2am so please consider that while reading. It's probably sad. The story takes place one year after the 3.08 flashbacks. That means, that lil' Sammy is 9-years old and Dean is 13 by now.

A/N: Betareader is my lovely Supernatural-Addicted LamiaJade honey bunny. Pay her a visit ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except of my fantasy xD It's all Master Kripke's and WB/CW's. I don't get paid for writing these things (though I think I should get...)


What's it like to know the truth?

Sam: Dean?

Dean: What?

Sam: I can't sleep…

Dean: What's your problem?

Sam: I'm afraid…there's something under my bed…

Dean: You're stupid!

Sam: And you're mean!

Dean: So now I'm the mean one? Well, okay but who's the one who's scared of that "thing" under the bed? It's not me!

Sam: Yeah… Where's dad?

Dean: Working.

Sam: But it's 2 o' clock …

Dean: Can't you just shut your mouth and let me sleep?

Sam: Not until you promised me that there's nothing under my bed!

Dean: (sighs) Okay… (stands up, turns lights on, looks under Sam's bed) There's nothing, Sammy. I swear! Now let me sleep! (goes back to sleep)

Sam: Dad's huntig, right?

Dean: He's working.

Sam: Tell me the truth, Dean!

Dean: Yeah…he's hunting a turkey…

Sam: Dean!

Dean: What? You don't want to know the truth so please quit asking me that!

Sam: Is he hunting the thing that killed mom?

Dean: (stands up, grabs Sam on the scruff of his neck, loud voice) I told you not to mention mom anymore! I don't want to speak about it!

Sam: What do you remember, Dean?

Dean: Wash your ears, Sammy!! I told you to shut up!

Sam: You were the one who told me that monsters are real so why don't you tell me more about that?

Dean: I never said that!

Sam: Yeah, you did. Last christmas when dad weren't there…like every year…

Dean: Okay, you're right but that's already more than you should know.

Sam: It's about…mom…

Dean: (angrily) Yeah, so?

Sam: He's after that thing, right?

Dean: Maybe…I don't know.

Sam: Really?

Dean: I swear. Could you now tell me why you want to know this crap so badly? Isn't it enough that mom's not there anymore?

Sam: Do you think about mom sometimes?

Dean: I asked you something, Sam.

Sam: And I asked you something, too.

Dean: No. I'm too busy worrying about you and your stupid questions.

Sam: You're lying!

Dean: (sighs) Sure I do.

Sam: You know…I don't remember her anymore…

Dean: You were too young to get to know her better…

Sam: Right… that's why I'm so interested, Dean. What do you remember?

Dean: Don't want to speak about it. (turns away)

Sam: Oh, c'mon, Dean!

Dean: Okay, okay. But listen: If dad's going to know that I told you that, he'll kill me, you understand?

Sam: Yes.

Dean: I'll tell you this once…and never again so listen carefully!

Sam: (nods)

Dean: (sadly) I don't remember much. There was…a fire in your nursery. And a terrible heat around us. I was in panic when I saw you and dad in the fire but he just took you out of your bed and told me to carry you out of the house as fast as I could. So I did. About a minute later, maybe two…dad came out…

Sam: Without mom?

Dean: Without mom… She died in the fire. You read it in dad's diary before, didn't you?

Sam: He wrote about the fire and how much he misses mom, but not how exactly she died. And… I didn't know that you were the one who carried me out of the fire…

Dean: (grabs the necklace Sam gave him last christmas) You thought dad did…

Sam: (nods)

Dean: So…now you know the truth.

Sam: Not everything.

Dean: What do you mean?

Sam: Why did mom die? Why didn't she ran out of the house like you and dad and me?

Dean: Sammy, it's late. Grab some hours of sleep until dad comes home from… (avoids to say 'hunting')

Sam: …hunting…

Dean: Yeah...

Sam: And my question?

Dean: Sam, please. Don't you think it's already enough for one night? And to be honest: I don't know it exactly. Dad doesn't speak about it with me. And besides…

Sam: (sadly) I'm still too young to know that, right?

Dean: Right. Time'll come, Sammy. One day when dad's not there anymore, it'll be our fight. Our job to hunt every demon down. And then you'll know…but now…just don't ask.

Sam: (nods, goes back to bed, turns his back to Dean, cries silently)

Dean: (feels like having told to much Sam couldn't understand yet, blames himself for being stupid enough to do that 'cause Sam's only 9 years old and way too young to be confronted with these things, goes to bed watching Sammy cry, feeling worse than before, crying a single silent tear)