Rating: - K+

Beta: - As always, my friend Vonnie.

Disclaimer: - Do I really have to say that I don't own Dean & John Winchester?

A/N: - Okay, this is one of my stupid one shot. I really needed some serious brotherly love fluff after watching Season 5. So, this is the result.


EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN


16th November, 2000, Loretta, Wisconsin

Dean was sitting on the long worn out couch and lazily flipped through the channels with the remote of the ancient color TV. God, he was bored. There was nothing, absolutely nothing going on in that goddamned TV. Well, the cable connection of this town 'the town sucks as much as the satellite connection' Dean thought wryly, provided only fifteen channels. And, among them the picture of two or three channels always danced, accompanied by some black dots and stupid horizontal lines. 'God, don't you understand…that TV doesn't work. Come on, those two dancing channel are MTV and HBO.' Dean clenched his teeth angrily and tossed the remote control on the other side of the couch. Stifling a large yawn, Dean turned his head around to see what the other inhabitants were doing.

Sighing, Dean saw his seventeen year old little brother was sitting in the bed and reading a book with a serious expression on his face. Sam sat cross legged and practically was surrounded by large amounts of books. Dean rolled his eyes disgustingly. 'God, how could Sam always bury his nose into those books? Doesn't he ever get bored?' He got up slowly and went to his brother's bed. Leaning slightly over Sam, intending to see what book his brother was reading, 'Fundamental of Physical Climatology'. Dean rolled his eyes and threw his hands in air, "C'mon, Climatology?"

Startled, Sam looked at his brother and saw Dean was standing in front of him with an 'oh-god-kill-me-now' face and pouted. He looked at the clock on the nightstand, it was only 6:30 p.m. and Dean already started whining.

"What? Why are standing like a pole Dean?" Sam asked in a slightly irritating tone. He was studying and he had to submit an assignment about 'thunderstorms and tornados' tomorrow. If Dean interrupted like that, he was never gonna finish his study until he was forty.

"Dude, seriously!" Dean made a face like he was going to puke. "You're reading climatology?"

"Yeah, looks like it. So, what's it to you?" Sam took a pencil and started writing something in his note book.

Dean looked at him incredulously and picked up another book with two fingers, as he had been picking up some slug.

"Nothing. I mean, who reads that? I never read it when I was at your age."

Sam smirked amused, but continued his writing in the notebook.

"You never read anything that is connected with study, do you Dean?"

"Smart a**." Dean huffed and pulled the book from Sam's lap.

"What are you doing?" Sam whined and pawed at him to take the book back from his grip but Dean moved swiftly from his little brother's grasp and got up from the bed. "Hey, I wanna see what junk you have been reading."

Now Sam had enough. His brother was a jerk and if he set his mind at disturbing his little brother, nothing in the whole world could stop him. But Sam was a Winchester too; he was not supposed to let his brother win this easily. Sam got up from the bed too and stood in his full height.

"Gimme my book back, Dean." Sam warned.

Dean chuckled cockily at the sight of his in defense mode little brother. Though he was almost five years younger than him, Sam was growing like a bean pole. He was already six feet two inches tall and towered over Dean and that was what Dean did not like at all. Dean was the big brother; he was supposed to be taller than his brother. Didn't matter that he still was healthier and stronger than his brother, Sam could easily reach in somewhere with his long hands where Dean couldn't.

Dean grinned and Sam huffed again. "Oh c'mon Sammy, I wanna read something from your book. I wanna read how snow falls like it's falling outside, how to make snowballs…" Dean started to run away playfully, when Sam lunged forward to grab his book.

"You are impossible Dean…" Sam was running after Dean too, but Dean was throwing everything like, chairs, towels, pillows, even some of Sam's books to prevent his brother from catching him.

"I would like to hear that I'm adorabeeel…" Dean's voice trailed as Sam jumped on him and they both tripped over each other. Dean was pinned under his little brother but still held him tightly with one hand, so Sam wouldn't reach his desired object. Sam was scrambling to free himself, but Dean easily flipped his lighter than him brother to the floor and sat on him.

"Deaaan, get off me." Sam whined like a small child and Dean laughed.

"Naw Sammy. You…" Suddenly Dean startled as the annoyed voice of his father boomed into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" John Winchester barked in a highly commanding voice.

Both brother released one another and quickly got up from the floor. They looked at each other and swallowed. John was scanning the whole room. Everything was scattered here and there and the whole room was a mess after the brotherly war. Now John was looking p*ssed, god, when were his boys gonna be serious!

John was getting ready for a hunt. It was a blizzard outside, but he had to salt n burn a ghost. The ghost of Pierce Myers had really been spooking everyone out, who was driving along highway forty two. Although the ghost hadn't done any actually harm to anyone but when he appeared with a really bloody and contorted face, the drivers got highly scared and that got them into accidents. There had been at least four accidents that happened during the last three months. No one died but they got injured badly. So that ghost made the locals' life miserable and seriously needed his a** to burn.

Sam had researched that the ghost only showed his face on fortnights, so he had to finish the hunt tonight anyhow or it would be delayed for another fifteen days. But it was snowing heavily outside and there were at least six inches layer of snow covering everything. John decided to let his boys stay in the house, it belonged to his friend Joel Parker, who was a hunter himself and was gone for a different hunt. But he let John and his boys stay in his house for a couple of days.

"Dean, Sam…" John asked in a very angry voice, "What are two doing? I told you to keep quiet and watch out for yourselves, but you two are butting head with each other."

"Dean took my book and won't give me back." Sam whined and fidgeted.

"Shut up b*tch." Dean muttered.

"Dean." John's voice ranged loudly into the room and both flinched. 'God, those boys are impossible.' he grabbed his duffel and checked his arsenals. "Dean, I didn't expect that from you. Give that book back to your brother and clean all the mess you had made."

"Yes sir." Dean muttered and handed the book over to his brother. Sam smirked and Dean mumbled a curse. John rechecked his ammo, salt, gasoline can and ordered Sam. "Sammy, go and put those food packets I brought into the fridge, alright. I might be late and don't wait for me okay you two?"

Sammy nodded and flew towards the kitchen.

John spun towards Dean and said. "Dean, check the salt lines after I am gone, okay! Lock the door and check the med stash…" But Dean's heart wasn't in it. He was way too angry at his brother right now. How dare Sam b*tched about him to his father. It was just a stupid book and for that Dean had to do the whole cleaning. Dean's face had become clouded in anger. 'I won't let that stupid brat get away with it this easily'. Startled, when John irritated voice entered into his hearing again, Dean looked at his father now with a little more concentration. "…are you listening to me Dean?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'm not a child Dad, I am twenty two for god's sake." Dean snickered pettishly.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, you hear me boy." John angry hot breath splashed over Dean's face and he grimaced.

"Sorry Sir."

"Good, now do what I said and take care of Sammy. Don't let him out of your sight alright."

"Okay." Dean answered. 'I will take care of you very well Sammy boy.' Dean thought and smiled mischievously.

"Okay. I am going now. I won't be back until morning. Take care and watch out for you brother." John said and then went to his car.

Dean locked his door after John's truck sped off from his sight and spun towards Sammy's direction. He smiled venomously and muttered. "I'm coming after you Sammy. Just wait and watch."


It was past 8 p.m. Sam was studying once again and Dean was eating. Sam was feeling a little guilty after Dean got punished for what both of them were actually responsible for. He knew he shouldn't have complained to dad about the matter, but Dean was being a serious jerk and it was the matter of his assignment. Dean refused to talk with Sam after that. Sam tried a couple of times to apologize but there was nothing that could budge Dean.

Dean was flipping through the channels again, cursing every time the TV showed nothing but black and white dots dancing in front of him. He was like…

Flip

"Son of a b*tch"

Filp flip

"Stupid freaking TV"

Flip

"A**hole"

"Shut up Dean." Sam shot his head from his books and growled. "What's with this cursing, man? You are cursing like a sea witch. I can't concentrate, if you keep continuing this."

"I don't care." Dean's voice was full of venom.

Sam sighed and put his book down. He knew Dean was still angry with him, but he was not really the one who did wrong. Nothing would have happened if Dean hadn't screwed with his study materials. But still, Sam couldn't just see Dean this mad at him because he loved his brother so much. He even offered to clean the mess but Dean clearly refused. It hurt him that Dean didn't talk to him, didn't even look at him. Sam just couldn't bear that Dean had been resenting him that much.

"Dean, look I am sorry..." Sam tried but his voice was cut off during mid sentence.

"Shut up Sam. Damage's done. No need to feel sorry now." Dean got up and went to the TV set.

"What damage man? What are you talking about?" Sam was kind of surprised now as he slowly got up from the bed.

Dean crouched in front of TV set and cursed a mouthful once again. Sam walked towards him as he set one visible channel, but still it was dancing. Placing a hand on Dean's shoulder, Sam tried to talk with his brother, but Dean roughly shoved his hand away.

"Save it Sam. I don't wanna hear your apologies." Dean barked.

Now Sam was getting angry too. What was wrong with Dean? Why was he acting like he had done something horribly wrong and Dean had to pay his entire savings for it? Sometimes, Dean's behaviors drove him nuts.

"What's wrong with you Dean? What did I do?" Sam was growling now.

"Oh c'mon, you complained to Dad about me and I got punished. Sam…I never get punished." Dean's eyes were burning in anger.

"Oh yeah you Mr. perfect. But it was you who started all this mess."

"Oh no you little brat. It was just a stupid book." Dean shoved Sam in his chest and Sam stumbled backwards slightly.

'Okay that's enough.' Sam thought and he also shoved Dean by this chest. "Yes, that was a stupid book. So why are you making it a drama, Dean."

'Oh how dare Sammy shove me.' Dean was fuming, and this time he shoved his little brother a little harder. "Sam, don't you dare…"

Sam was boiling too. "I don't care alright. You are making it a drama…" He shoved Dean hard and Dean repeated this action. Between continuing the bickering and shoving, suddenly Dean lost his balance and crashed against the TV table and the cable got disconnected.

"Oh my God, Dean, are you alright?" Sam asked anxiously, as he helped his brother get back on his feet.

"Get off me…" Dean shrugged off and started to flip through channels again. "Oh great, the cable is disconnected. Thanks to my stupid little brother."

"Dean I'm sorry." Sam was feeling real sorry for this minor accident.

"Sorry won't cut it Sam. Now how'd I spend all the goddamned night with a dead TV?" Dean was almost screaming in frustration.

"What can I do?" Sam asked softly with such sorrowful eyes.

"Honestly…" Dean turned to him and bit his lip. "…everything. Now go on the roof and fix the satellite dish."

Sam's mouth fell open after hearing this. He looked at the outside through the glass window and winced.

"It's snowing outside Dean. How would I do that in a frigging snowstorm?"

"Well, it's not snowing as heavily. And you're the Climatologist; you can do this better than me." Dean smiled cockily.

"Dean, you aren't serious…" Sam tried to protest.

"Yeah, I knew it. Sammy Winchester can't do anything except whining and complaining. Sammy's a loser. Sammy's a loser…" Dean taunted him in a sing song voice.

Now seventeen years old Sam Winchester blood started to warm in anger and resent. 'Why does Dean think I can't fix a single satellite line? Well, I will show him, what I can do.' Sam snatched his parka from the bed and snickered at Dean. "Fine. I will go and fix the dish in a second." Sam arrogantly stalked towards the roof stairs.

Dean watched with a sideways glance that his brother stalked away and smiled devilishly. "Now Sammy, wait and see little brother. You don't know how payback is going to be a b*tch."


Sam was perched on the partially flat roof top as he tried to fix the satellite dish. He carefully stood over the railing balancing with one leg as the other leg was planted on the hard wooden floor. Sam didn't need a stool or something; he was tall enough to fix the dish without any help. It wasn't a hard work, but the weather wasn't accommodating.

The bone chilling wind was blowing at a higher intensity and snow was falling like the grace of god. Sam shook his head to remove the snow flakes from his hair. He was shivering violently but his gaze was fixed on his work. No, Sam wouldn't give up until his work was finished. What did Dean think, he was a loser? Couldn't do anything without his brother's help. He was going to show his big brother that Sam didn't whine. Gritting his icy teeth together, Sam screwed tight the wire into the dish.

Suddenly, Sam spun hearing the muffled thuds of footsteps that had been coming behind him. But there was no one. Sam peaked his eyebrows and chewed the inside of his cheek. 'What was that sound.' Craning his neck a little higher so he could look a better who had been behind him, Sam called at particular nobody. "Dean, that you?"

Nothing came, except the sound of the whipping wind. Sam shook his head and thought, 'Must have been a hallucination' and went back to his work.

A few minutes later, the sound of the footsteps came again and Sam turned quickly. Once again, there was no one except a chimney that was situated at the opposite side of the dish. 'Is someone lurking over there?' Sam thought and carefully stepped forward at the chimney. His feet were slipping, there was too much snow.

All of a sudden, the lights of the house started flickering and Sam stopped. 'What the hell…' and then all the lights went off. 'Yes, that's the hell.' Sam wanted to congratulate his sudden bad luck; first he had a fight with Dean, second he had to fix the freaking satellite connection in the chilliest snow storm and third someone or something was lurking and finally the power cut out now. "Great, what a night and tomorrow I'll have to submit my papers. Looks like I might have to study all night. Hey, what was that?" Sam muttered as he saw a shadowy figure was trembling behind the chimney. "Who's there?" Sam barked in a very serious tone but no one came out. He pulled a torch light from his parka and switched on the light and…

Suddenly a figure jumped in font of him startling the young boy with a great intensity. Sam backed up a little as he saw the figure was advancing on him. His eyes went wide when a human figure, wearing a long white cloth adorned with red buttons, face was painted all white jumped in front of him. Sam scrambled backward as that thing kept advancing at him, making an eerie noise like 'Boooo' and a red ball was stuck on his nose. It's eyes painted by deep yellow color and blue painted eyebrows arched upwards. The most horrible or irritable thing were its lips that had been broadly painted in red and spread all over his mouth.

"Oh my God, it's a clown" Sam gasped as his most fearsome thing kept advancing towards him. His breath hitched when the clown spread its arms to Sam, like he was going to hug him. Sam's face was a picture to look at right then, he was sweating all over in this bone biting cold and continued to walk backwards to the railing.

Without warning the clown started to laugh and made a gesture to lunge forward when something clicked into Sam's mind. 'Wait, I know that voice. It's like Dean's…' but he was too late. As the clown or Dean made a gesture to lunge forward, Sam bolted and his feet slipped. He lost his balance and started to topple backward off the low railing. The last thought came to Sam's mind before he hit the pavement was, 'Thank God, it was Dean not any clown' and everything went black.


Dean watched in horror, as his little brother was falling from the roof and screamed. "Saaaaaaaaaammy…" He lunged forward to catch his falling brother, but he was too late. Sam had already toppled off from the railing and hit the lower ground. Dean skidded towards the railing and saw his little brother sprawled on the snowy pavement. His eyes went wide as he saw the white snow had turned into red underneath his brother's head. As quick he leg could carry him, Dean ran to the staircase and carefully climbed down. He couldn't risk himself falling, otherwise he wouldn't be able to help his brother, who was injured badly now. He threw his stupid costumed off and slid to where his brother was lying.

Sam was lying like a tangled heap and his eyes were closed. Dean pulled his brother's head onto his lap and examined his injury thoroughly. "Sam, Sammy, wake up little brother. Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I pulled that stupid joke on you; please open your eyes for me." Dean was rambling while he was tapping his brother's cheek trying to get him back to consciousness. 'God he was cold, Sammy.' Tears were pulling on Dean's eyes while he had been assessing his brother's injury.

Well, nothing seemed to be broken as Sam fell only from fourteen feet down or so and mercifully there was a thick layer of snow. Thank goodness, his brother's limbs seemed to be intact. But why he was bleeding from the head? Dean tilted his brother's head slightly and saw there was a nasty gash on the back of it and it was bleeding profusely. Turning his head around to the nearest tree, Dean saw the reason. Sam's head got knocked on a tree trunk… 'Ouch, that's must hurt like the hell'…and opened the gash.

Dean quickly pulled his outer shirt off and pressed tightly on the wound to slow the blood flow. 'God, I was so stupid. I was totally out of my mind. What was I thinking?' Dean cried and tapped on Sam's cheek again with a trembling hand. "Sam, Sammy…" When Sam remained unresponsive, taking a deep breath Dean straightened himself. "Okay, lets getcha' into the house or else we both gonna freeze to death." Dean muttered and hooked his left arm behind Sam's back and the other under his knees and hoisted his unconscious little brother up to his chest. Clutching his brother tightly in his strong arms, Dean adjusted himself and walked to their house.

The pitch dark room greeted them eerily as Dean entered into the room. Mentally kicking himself for pulling this stupid stunt again, Dean stumbled in the dark and cussed at himself. "What have you been thinking? How could you cut the fuse you idiot? Sure your own fuse must have been blown." Dean blinked couple of time to clear his vision in the dark room. He couldn't risk himself falling when his brother was injured and unconscious and cradled in your arms. Counting each step carefully, Dean finally reached the nearest bed. Sighed in relief, he carefully lowered his brother and quickly went outside to reconnect the fuse that he had cut previously. After a few seconds, the whole house filtered with bright lights and Dean scrambled in the room where his injured little brother was currently lying.

Sam sprawled in the bed like a dead fish, he was all pale. Partly from blood loss and otherwise from massive cold. Dean rubbed a trembling hand across his face desperately trying to calm himself down. 'Think Dean, think. What to do…what to do…' Whenever he looked at his little brother's blood smeared unconscious face, he wanted to cry in frustration. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" Cursing a blue streak he closed his eyes and concentrated on taking deep breaths. "Can't freak out now. Sammy needs me…oouuff…" He darted towards the drawer. "Where's the damn fist aid box…" Dean swore as he was scrambling almost everything that got in his way and then pulled a box out.

"What the hell?"

Dean almost screamed when he found there was practically nothing inside the first aid box. Only a couple of band aids and some pills were scattered loosely. "Oh my God, where the hell all things go?" Slapping his forehead hard, Dean cried frustratingly. He was at a losing point. 'God this can't be happening. Sammy needs them now.' He was almost crying when Dad's warning had been replaying into his mind.

'Check the med stash Dean and replaced them as soon as you can. We are almost out of meds and we should re stock them. This is important, Dean…are you listening…'

Dean slapped his head hard and screamed. "No, I wasn't listening. All I was thinking about was how to take revenge on my little brother for nothing. He had done nothing you jerk, it was your fault. You pulled everything and let your brother suffer. Now, see. See what you have done. Happy now!" After berating himself, Dean was feeling somewhat better. He went to where his brother was lying injured and started pacing. "What to do…what to do…" Muttering in a low tone, Dean tore his shirt into pieces and tightly bound it around Sam's head to stem the bleeding. "Now no other option, have to take Sammy into the clinic or hospital. Head wound could be dangerous, if it's left for long."

Dean almost ran to his car but luck didn't seem to be cooperating with him then. The snow made a thick canopy all over the car and jammed the gas pipe. It would take long to clear the obstruction. Dean got hyper frustrated again and without thinking, he kicked his beloved impala. 'Can't believe I'm kicking my baby' Fisting his cropped hair Dean gritted his teeth and ran again into the room. Almost leaning over his brother, Dean shook Sam's slack shoulders in order to rouse him from his stupor; Well, this time more desperately. "Sammy please, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up." But Sam remained still. He might have been now trying to prove that he was a stubborn Winchester too and wouldn't obey any order anytime soon. Sam remained as plaint as dead, the only movement was his breathing and the rising and falling of his chest.

Suddenly Dean remembered someone. 'Yes yes yes, there is a nurse, she lives…' He remembered he saw a nurse lived in the house not far from them, only five minutes walking distance. Dean had watched her everyday when she went to the hospital. She was young maybe one or two years older than Dean and though Dean winked once or twice at her, she ignored him anyway. She could help, she had to help. Dean gathered himself and placed two blankets on Sam's torso and quickly planted a kiss on his forehead. "Just hang on Sammy. Big brother is going to get help, alright. Don't be afraid. I am just running and get that nurse to you…please hang on…" Re-checked all the salt lines and closing every window, Dean locked the door and started to run towards the nurse's house.


Nurse Spela was just getting ready for bed; suddenly she heard a loud bang on her door. Frowning, she looked at her watch. It was 9:30 p.m. Who could come this late in this frigging snowfall? She wasn't sure if she should open the door or not, but her nurse instinct was clicking inside her. Opening the door in a fraction, she saw a familiar face hovering in front of her and then and there her face contorted in anger and snarled. "You?"

She had almost slammed the door in that cocky young man's face, who had winked at her several times, except now he didn't look like he was up to flirting. Face pale, sheer evidence of fear and shock clearly was written all over his face. Placing a foot between the door and the ledge, he pleaded. "Ma'am please, you have to help me. My…my brother he…he's hurt and there was nothing to help him. He's bleeding and…and he won't wake up."

Nurse Spela's instincts jumped, when she heard that someone was injured and bleeding. She remembered his brother and she could easily distinguish between the two. The tall younger one was shy, sweet faced with a dimpled smile, always kept his eyes low when he talked to someone. On the other hand, the shorter, older one was cocky, irritating and number one flirter, always winked at every girl walking in front of him. She just jumped when Dean's voice rang in her head. "Ma'am please…"

"Just wait a second." Spela quickly took her med box and locked the door. "Lets go."


After bandaging Sam's head with expert hands and giving him a shot in his arm, nurse Spela got up and handed Dean some pills. "Don't worry Dean, he will be alright."

"Ahh…you sure?" Dean was still looking nervous.

Spela smiled and placed an assuring hand on Dean's shoulder. "Yes, I'm sure mister. He's just got a nasty knock in his head and that's why he is still out. Otherwise, no concussion which is good. And luckily he landed on snow, so he just got some bruises in hands, legs and ribs. Otherwise he is just fine."

"And his head…"

"Well, he might suffer a nasty headache for a few days but he will live. And the wound will be healed soon. So, give him these pills timely and he will be alright in no time." Nurse Spela smiled; she was getting ready to leave.

"Ahh…ma'am…how…" Dean swallowed as Spela glared at him angrily.

"Are you trying to insult me, Dean? Aren't we neighbors? Sam, lying here is just like my little brother. So, back off young man. Don't even think about to paying me."

"Sorry Miss." Dean lowered his head and smiled.

Spela smiled at him too and patted his neck. "Just take care of your little brother alright. Just don't do anything stupid again, like you told me you did. Promise me."

"I promise ma'am."

"That's good." Spela smiled and took off from the house.

Dean sat heavily down in the bed as the weariness was taking a toll on him. God, that was a long night. He looked at the watch and sighed, it' was 11:30 p.m. Stifling a large yawn he spared a glance at the serene feature of his brother. He was feeling so guilty about tonight's incidents. God, he almost lost his little brother. Clown, freaking clown! What was he thinking? When Dean knew how frightened Sam was of clowns and he just had to pull that particular stunt on him. And where? On the roof on a snowy evening. Dad was gonna kill him, when he found out about all this.

"Guess I will have a rough time, won't I Sammy?" Pulling his little brother into his chest Dean wrapped his arms protectively around him. He kept vigil over Sam for a couple of hours, until he drowned into deep slumber himself, without ever having a clue about it.


Dean jerked awake as the loud bang of door knocking outside their room filtered in the room. He looked at his brother who was still bundled in his arms protectively and still hadn't come out of his stupor. Dean carefully lowered his brother onto the bed and wearily opened that door. Just what he had imagined, his dad was standing behind the door. Grinning sheepishly, he started. "Hi Dad." But his smile faltered when he realized how stupid he had been looking in front of his father.

"Ahh…hi Dean…" John arched his eyebrows as he watched his proud, macho, super cocky older son smile so awkwardly, knowing that meant something was wrong. Upon entering into the room, his gaze immediately fell at the object of Dean's weird behavior. His bag fell on the ground with a loud thud and Dean flinched. John sprinted towards the bed and pulled his sleeping son into his arms.

"Sammy, Sammy…" He looked at Dean anxiously, as he tried to rouse his injured son.

"I…ah…Sammy and I…we were…" Dean was mumbling incoherently.

"Dean Winchester. Stop stuttering. Tell me what happened to your brother." John barked in an authoritative tone.

Suddenly Sam stirred in John's arm, as John's loud voice entered into his brain. 'God, stop yelling. You're giving me a headache.' Sam thought, trying to open his gritty eyes. He saw his dad's face swimming in front of his eyes, John was murmuring, "It's okay Sammy. You're alright."

"Oh…Dad…when…you home…" Sam asked sleepily.

"Yeah Sammy…" John was rocking his youngest son and looked at his oldest, who was standing beside his brother's bed. "What happened, Dean?"

Before Dean could answer Sam interrupted. "Dad…I…ah…I was trying to fix the cable and I slipped from the roof. Dean…ahh…he tried to catch me…but…but…I fell dad. I am sorry I…I got hurt…" Sam was panting.

"'S okay Sammy, 's okay…" John murmured soothing words and turned to Dean. "Is that true?"

Dean looked at his little brother who looked at him beseechingly through his chocolate brown fringe. He swallowed and croaked. "Ye…yeah dad, it's true."

John looked at both his son and he knew both were hiding something from him. But he didn't want to break their true brotherhood by pushing them over the edge and especially not when Sam's sick. Knowing he would find out later so for now, he let it go. Lowering his youngest son onto the bed again, John asked, "You okay now son?"

"Yeah Dad." Sam smiled.

"Okay then. You rest, I will go get a shower." John got up and nodded at Dean and Dean gave him a tight smile.

Making sure that John was finally out of his line of vision, Dean sat beside Sam and asked, "Why didn't you tell Dad, Sammy? You know I deserve…"

"Stop it Dean," Sam stopped him in mid way. "…It was an accident and I know you wouldn't hurt me intentionally."

"But you got hurt because of me Sammy. It could have been more dangerous." Dean eyes were almost watery.

"But it didn't. I'm okay. So don't…" Suddenly Sam chuckled.

Dean frowned. "Why are you smiling Sammy?"

"Dude…" Sam burst into a laugh. "…you were wearing a clown face and bed sheet…haha…that was funny…I just don't think I could ever be afraid of clowns again." Sam was giggling.

Now Dean was smiling too. Thank God, his brother was okay and kicking. "Oh God, kill me now."

"You are funny Dean. You…you are a real joker."

"And you are a b*tch."

"Jerk."

"Dork."

"Brat."

"Freak."

"Clown."

"Ass."

"Boys."

********************************THE END***********************************

Okay, what do you think about it? Got some relief? So, if you like this story, leave a comment. It will make a poor author happy. I really need some consolation after watching 'Lucifer Sam'… sighs.

Take Care, I will be back soon with the 'White Light Sequel'---The name is "When Death Calls". See ya later.

Special Thanks to 'Valerie Whincup' for her kind words and e_mails. `Thank You.

Love, Ritu.