--Challenge WOW: Shoe--

Oh, Sammy Boy

He hoisted himself up onto the bed, kicking off his shoes, which were filled with sand. He sniffed and wiped his cheek, smearing dirt.

"You okay, buddy?" Dean asked. He blinked and nodded, sniffing again. Dean tipped a brown bottle onto a rag and pressed it on his knee.

"Sss…" Sam hissed, new tears in his eyes. "Ouch. Dean it hur's." He said, lower lip shaking.

"I know. It's okay, Sammy," Dean said gently. He carefully put a band-aid on his baby brother's skinned knee. "You gotta be more careful on the see-saw, okay?" Sam nodded, trying to be a big boy and not cry.

Dean sat next to him, smiling lightly to try and make him feel better.

"T'ank you, Dean." He said, voice shaking.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean assured. Sam hugged his big brother, unable to take it anymore. "Shh…" Dean soothed. "It's okay, it's okay."

"M' knee hur's." Sam cried. Dean rubbed his back for a little while, trying to think of some way to take his mind off of it.

"Hey, I got an idea. How about we go down the block and get some ice cream?" The toddler's eyes lit up and he grinned, tears forgotten.

"Otay!" He said.

"You gotta wash your face first." Dean said. Sam frowned what would later be known as the bitch-face and sighed.


Dean sat his little brother on the bed and pressed the ice pack to his blackened eye.

"Ow…" Sam moaned quietly.

"You okay, buddy?" Dean asked, concerned. Sam nodded. He looked at the cuts and scrapes on Sam's hands and knees, the bruise on his cheek and his black eye. "Alright, this is gonna sting, okay?"

Sam nodded and braced himself. The peroxide stung and made him hiss in pain. Dean figure out that he was holding his side like that for a reason and wrapped his ribs.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean assured every time he groaned or yelped in pain, tears welling against his will in his eyes. "It's gonna be okay."

He made Sam lie down and take some Tylenol. He stood next to him for a minute, rubbing his forehead.

"I'll be right back, okay?" He said.

"Where are you goin'?" Sam asked, not wanting him to leave. Dean's jaw clenched, like it always did when he was angry.

"Five on one ain't fair, Sammy. 'Specially when they're older than you. I'm gonna go kick their little asses."

Dean emptied an entire clip into the man's face, so enraged he couldn't even see straight. The man fell with a thud onto the concrete.

Dean rushed to the wall and started unlocking the shackles.

"Mmmnn." Sam groaned, barely conscious.

"I know, it's okay, Sammy. It's okay." The shackles came undone. He caught his little brother, wrapping his jacket around his bare shoulders.

"Dean..?" Sam asked wearily, his beaten and worn body hardly able to move.

"Shh…It's okay, Sammy. I'm here, I'm here. They can't hurt you anymore, okay?" He assured. Sam fell against his brother, face in his neck, crying softly.

"Shhh…It's gonna be okay, alright? It's okay, it's okay, shhhh…"

"Thank you, D-Dean." He sobbed.

"Shh…I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I'm gonna get you home."


He looked down at the wooden cross and the freshly laid dirt. His eyes were swollen and red with tears that were still falling rapidly. He took another long swig from the bottle he held in his hands before dropping it; empty.

"Who's gonna tell me it's okay, now?" He whispered to the silent cross. He squeezed the pendant of the necklace in his hand. "Who's gonna tell me it's okay?!"

He fell on his knees, sobbing hard and hanging onto the cross for support.

"Please, Dean, tell me it's okay!" But only silence met him. He sobbed, the only sound for miles and listening to His voice in his head.

"It's okay, Sammy."


--tear jerker, eh? :'( Feedback please!--