Father and Sons

A Wee!Chester story

Disclaimer: Hmm okay I could say that things could change after this coming weekend but ... Nope still not mine to keep, just to play with and then send home again.

Author's Note: I know I still have a few stories to get finished but I was having withdrawals from writing Wee!Chester tales Hehehe, I know I'm hopeless!!

Dean is 10 years old, Sammy is 6 years old.


Chapter One: Bed People and a Hating House.

Six year old Sam Winchester looked up at his big brother with a sceptical look on his face, 'this is it?'

'Yeah Squirt this is it.' Dean sighed and gave his brother's thin shoulder a squeeze as they stood and stared at their newest home, 'guess we had better go in.'

'Dean it smells.' Sam wrinkled his nose and took a step back.

'Yeah well dad's already gone so we just have to suck it up.' Dean mumbled as he grabbed Sam's hand and headed towards the rundown timber house. 'He wants us to unpack before he gets back.'

'Okay.' Together the two boys carried their heavy duffle bags up the two steps to the front door, 'watch out Deanie that boards broken.' Sam pointed out just before Dean put his foot on the jagged piece of wood.

'Thanks Squirt that would've hurt.' Dean grinned as he dumped his bag and pulled the front door key out of his pocket, 'let's see what it's like on the inside.'

'Do we hafta?'

'Yep we do.' Taking a deep breath Dean slid the key into the lock and let the door swing open the musty smell hitting the two brothers immediately. Sneezing Dean went in first and waited for a second until his eyes became accustomed to the dullness inside.

'I'm just gonna check it out Sammy you stay put.' Dean said without turning around, he knew that Sam wouldn't move until Dean gave him the all-clear. Sniffling after another round of sneezing Dean stepped into the small living room and pulled the curtains open catching a face full of dust. Coughing now as well as sneezing Dean went on into the kitchen, he opened the small window above the sink and breathed in the fresher air from outside before turning to inspect the rest of their new home.

'Come on in Sammy.' He called after quickly looking in the cupboards, fridge and stove for any uninvited furry guests.

'Wow Dean did dad even check it out?' Sam asked dropping their bags in the middle of the living room.

'Dunno let's check out upstairs.' Dean grinned the dust on his face giving him a mask of mischievousness, 'might find some treasure.'

'Yeah right, dusty.' Sam chuckled, 'race ya?'

'Yeah right.' Dean took off and soon the two boys were playing tag upstairs and through the two bedrooms and bathroom, they came to a screeching halt in the room that they were going to call theirs for a while. A large double bed, the frame carved in a heavy red wood with intricate designs across the bedhead, and the foot-board sat under the window, 'wow.' Dean exclaimed as he ran his hand over the heavy piece of furniture, 'this is cool.'

The only other furniture in the room was a standing robe, a small chest of drawers with an oval mirror set into a wooden frame similar that of the bed next to it a small student's desk.

'What about dad's room?' Sam asked rushing out of their room before Dean could react, a short sharp cry followed his exit. Dean ran towards the sound of distress and found Sam sitting on the dirty floor with his left leg pulled up against his chest.

'What happened Sammy?'

'I tripped on that.' Sam pointed to a buckled floorboard just behind him, 'fell on my knee.'

'Let me see Sammy.' Dean crouched down in front of his brother and gently inspected the bruising joint, 'looks like you're gonna have a decent bruise there Sammy, can ya stand?'

'Yeah just hurts a bit.' Sam sniffed and let Dean help him up, limping lightly he followed his brother into the other bedroom. An dark look of anger flashed through Dean's eyes but he swallowed it down before he looked back at his little brother, they shouldn't have to live in places where Sam could get hurt.

'Gee dad really got the pick of the beds.' Sam's crack had Dean snap his head up and look around the bedroom; his gaze comes to rest on the big bed, once it would have been a beautiful rosewood four poster bed with a canopy but now it was just a shell of its former glory. The canopy rotted and broken away, the bed frame still intact though now covered with graffiti and marks scratched into the wood.

'Hey Sammy why don't you go and rest that knee while I start to unpack, we haven't got any ice ... there's an ice pack in the first aid box but we'll hafta wait for dad.'

'It's okay Dean, I'll be fine.' Sam said hiding the wince as he limped back downstairs.

'Nope not gonna get chewed out by dad just coz you're too stubborn Squirt so go sit.'

An hour later Dean had nearly finished unpacking their meagre belongings when he heard the familiar and distinct rumble of the impala, but before he could get downstairs to his little brother, his father's deep voice filled the silence.

'Sam! What are you doing sitting when you're brother is doing all of the work?' The anger and disapproval evident in the man's tone.

'Save it dad, Sam hurt his knee.' The ten year old yelled as he came down the stairs, 'he tripped on the shitty floorboards upstairs.'


'We were going through the rooms upstairs and Sam caught his foot on a buckled floor board it wasn't his fault.'

'Yeah well be more careful next time Sam and enough of your potty mouth Dean.' John Winchester grumbled as he crouched down to check on his youngest's injury, 'bad bruise there Sammy.'

'It's okay.' Sam shrugged his thin shoulders and bit back a small cry when his dad hit a tender spot.

'I'll go and get the ice packs, Dean give me a hand with the groceries kiddo.' John was already out the door before he finished speaking, 'now Dean.'

'Geeze alright dad keep ya hair on.' Dean grinned and winked at Sammy before hurrying after his father, 'dad.'

'Yes Son?'

'This place needs lots of work,' Dean said, running his fingers through his short hair, 'the porch has lots of broken boards and the floor upstairs, Sammy could've gotten hurt bad.'

'Yeah I know, I'm not meeting up with Caleb until the weekend so we can get some work done before then.'

'What about school?' Dean asked grinning slyly.

'Nice try kiddo, but I'll be fixing the floors while you and Sammy are at school.'

'Ah worth a shot?' Dean hauled the large first aid box inside while his father juggled the bags of groceries, a large sneeze exploding from Dean as he stepped back into the building. 'I'm allergic to the house dad.'

'Keep going Dean.' John shook his head at his ten year old's antics, 'I'll get you some stuff at the pharmacy later, but you're still going to school.'

'Hey didn't say anything.' Dean protested in mock horror winking at his brother, 'geeze slave driver, or what?'

'Or what.' John said as he left the groceries on the rickety table, 'want to start putting that lot away while I look at Sammy's knee?'

'Yeah, yeah geeze ...' Dean mumbled under his breath grinned at Sam and went to unpack the food though he kept an eye on his brother and father at the same time.

John carefully lifted his youngest son's leg and balanced it on his lap while he gave the injury a closer look. Sammy's knee, 'so Sammy no running for a while okay baby?'

'Gee dad I'm no baby.' Sam whinged folding his arms across his chest and pulled a full on pout.

'Ah but you're my baby Sammy.' John laughed, 'keep the ice pack on there for a while it's already bruising you must've come down hard on it.'

'Yes Sir.' Sam bobbed his head, 'dad?'

'Yes son:?'

'Can I still go to school tomorrow?' Sam stared up at his father with shimmering green eyes, John's breath caught in his throat, Dean might look more like their mother, but Sam's got her eyes.

'Yeah as long as you don't run or do anything silly.'

'Promise, yay Dean I can still go to school tomorrow.' Sammy called out excitedly.

'You sure that he's my brother dad? I mean you didn't find him under a cabbage patch did ya?'


The flames flared over the walls and crept towards the ceilings, the smoke was choking, the sounds of sneezing and coughing echoed in the silence but he couldn't see anyone else. He wanted to cry, he was so scared he curled into a tiny ball and tried to hide but the stiff bony fingers poked him, the laughter made his ears hurt. He wanted to run but couldn't move, he wanted to disappear but the flames were so hot and getting closer to him.

'Time to play.' He heard the voice behind him, whimpering he tried to move but the bony fingers held him tight, 'I wanna go home.' He cried pitifully, 'I want my daddy! I want my Deanie!'

'Sammy come on baby wake up for daddy.' John tried once again to wake his distraught youngest son; he had found Sam writhing in the big bed, sobbing and screaming for him and Dean but nothing he could do would wake Sammy up. After he was unable to wake his brother, Dean ran into his father's room and shook him awake before rushing back to his brother, almost tripping on that floorboard on his way.

'What's wrong with him dad?' Dean asked his dark green eyes appearing black with emotion.

'He's having a bad nightmare that's all.' John tried to give his eldest some comfort while still trying to wake Sammy up. Suddenly, the small boy sat upright, his eyes wide open and fixed, an ear-splitting scream coming from deep within the painfully thin chest. 'Sammy?' John and Dean cried out simultaneously.

'Daddy?' Sammy sobbed and wrapped his arms around his father's neck not wanting to let go, 'daddy they were gonna take me.'

'Who son?' John tried to pry his son's arms away from his throat but Sam just tightened his grip, his little body trembling violently pressed harder against John's chest.

'The bed people.' Sammy sniffled, 'they took Deanie away and then, then they ... fire burned and smoke and ... and ... I couldn't find ya ... then the bony fingers came from the bed people.'

'Bed people?' John glanced over at Dean who just shook his head in confusion. 'What bed people Sammy?'

'They ... they ... want me.' Sammy sobbed and then he abruptly collapsed in his father's arms, his breath coming in short, sharp breathes.

'Dad what's going on?' Dean blinked and ran his fingers through his brother's long sweat-filled hair. 'What's wrong with Sammy?'

'Not sure Dean,' John answered distractedly when he discovered the finger-shaped bruises on the back of Sammy's neck and shoulders, 'damn.'

'Dad?' Dean blinked back the tears and tried to stay strong like a good soldier.

'These bruises they weren't here before?' John asked Dean while he tenderly pulled Sammy's pyjama top off him giving him a clearer view of the marks.

'No, no Sir they're new.' Dean's eyes grew impossibly wider staring at the bruises, 'dad Sammy called em the bed people ... could they have?'

'They look like finger shapes but thinner, more like bones or sticks.' John mused, 'Dean did Sammy bleed on anything when he fell over?'

'No Sir, just bruised his knee.' Dean sniffled and started to sneeze and cough again.


John ran his hands through his thick black hair and stared down at his youngest son's unconscious form, the bruises now covering Sammy's shoulders and upper back down to just below his shoulder blades.

'Dad when's uncle Bobby coming?' Dean asked, his voice hoarse and sounding thick with mucous.

'He'll be here tomorrow Dean.' John looked up at his pale faced eldest, 'why don't you get some sleep?'

'Nah my head hurts too much,' Dean sniffled, 'what about your job with Caleb?'

'Uncle Bobby said that he'll get someone else to help Caleb so I don't have to worry about the job.'

'Ah okay.'


'Yeah Dad?'

'I'm sorry ...'

'Sorry for what?' Dean frowned confused, maybe he was sicker than he thought, 'what's wrong dad?'

'Nothing, but I'm sorry that I didn't get a better place for you guys to live in.'

'Ah it's okay dad, just coz I'm allergic to it and it wants Sammy, doesn't mean that it's a bad house.' Dean said with an innocent look on his face, his grin widening when he saw the small smile form on his father's face. 'We'll be okay Dad.'

'If, if I could ... things would be different for you two, you know that don't you?'

'Dad ... hey it's okay ... Sam and me will be fine.' Dean reassured John before he started to sneeze again. 'House hates me, I hate this dumb house.' He mumbled under his breath.

'Daddy?' Sammy opened his eyes, winced and shut them again, 'hurts.'

'What does baby?' John leant closer to Sammy and brushed a finger tenderly down his son's face.

'Eyes, light hurts ... daddy my head hurts.' Sammy whimpered rolling onto his side he curled up and tried to hide his face. John looked up to ask Dean to shut the blinds when he saw his son had already done it without hesitation.

'That better Sammy?' John asked watching Sammy slit his eyes open and then open them wide.

'Thanks Deanie, daddy.' Sam tried for a smile but it turned into more of a grimace.

'How you feelin' Sammy?' Dean asked climbing back onto the bed next to his brother.

'Hurts ... you sound sick Deanie.'

'Ahh allergies ... house hates me!' Dean grinned.

'Daddy my head hurts,' Sammy blinked back tears, 'an', and my neck.'

'You've got lots of bruises on your neck baby.'

'Daddy ... feel ...icky...' Sammy's face screwed up and he became even paler, 'gonna ...' John picked his baby boy up and rushed into the bathroom, just making it to the toilet when Sam started to retch, losing the small amount of food he had left in his stomach. 'Don' ... like ... sickies.' He moaned as another wave of nausea hit him. 'Daddy!'


John watched both boys as they slept soundly curled up together on the couch, preferring to keep Sam where he could see him, and with Dean's allergic reactions so extreme it was a lot easier to get both of them asleep on the couch.

He cradled his lukewarm coffee and tried to piece together what had happened since their arrival in the ramshackle house.

'Johnny Winchester you in there?' a familiar grumbling voice came from the open front door.

'Get in here Singer and keep the noise down.' John grinned and got up to greet his friend, 'thanks for coming.'

'Where's my boys?' Bobby Singer asked expecting a hyperactive Sammy and Dean to bowl him over.

'Asleep on the couch.' John said as he led Bobby over to where the boys slept, 'something attacked Sammy in his sleep.'

'Sure it wasn't just one of his nightmares?'

'Nightmares cause this?' John showed Bobby the black and purple bruises covering Sam's neck, shoulders and back, 'he's been vomiting and got a slight temperature as well.'

'Dang me.' Bobby murmured his weathered and calloused hands ghosted over the marks, 'they look like bony fingers.'

'Sammy said that the bed people want him.'

'Bed people?' Bobby sat back and looked up at John a frown forming, 'did he describe them?'

'Nope but ... have a look at this.' John led Bobby upstairs to the boys' room, 'check the bed out.'

Bobby whistled softly as he traced the designs with a fingertip, 'you might've moved in on a hunt without knowing Johnny boy.'

'Tell me about it.'

'So what about Dean?'

'Funny thing with Dean ... I mean he has had allergies before but the reaction he's had ... way off the charts for him.'

'So the bed wants Sam and Dean's allergic to the house?' Bobby asked disbelievingly he shoved his cap back, scratched and then pulled it back down in place. 'So where do ya wanna start?'

'Gonna have to talk to Sammy.' Bobby said after hesitating for a second.

'Daddy!' Dean's panicked scream had both of the men running downstairs, John stumbling on the buckled floorboard Sammy had tripped on, only this time it seemed higher than before. Shaking his head John righted himself and followed Bobby down the stairs.

'We gotta get the boys outta here.' John said as they reached the couch and found Dean sitting up with Sammy lying limply in his arms, blood dripping from the little boy's nose.

John bundled Sammy into his arms while Bobby picked up Dean, not worrying about their stuff they started to the front door when an invisible force slammed it shut, they turned to the kitchen and the back door when the same thing happened, the house groaning around them whenever they moved. Within seconds they were, for all intents and purposes locked in the house.