Hey y'all. So it's been forever since I updated this. Sorry about that. Got hit with a bout of laziness this year and more recently, depression. Watched some of Season 1 tonight and that seemed to remedy it, so I whipped this up.

I don't know about you guys, but I was extremely impressed with Colin's performance in 7x03 and now I'm even more in love with the kid. He's such a perfect mini-Sam! And totally only a year younger than me heehee. So anyway, I thought I'd inform you that this Sam is somewhat of a blend of College!Sam and Colin!Sam. So not quite the Sam we see in Pilot, but not the Sam in 7x03 either. Caught somewhere in that awkward teenage stage.

Reviews are much appreciated and keep me going.

xoxoxo

"Bottles up to a job well done boys." John lifted his beer upwards in a hunter's homage to the conclusion of another hunt. He gave them a rare smile, holding out his bottle and Dean grinned in return, clinking his in as well. Sam finally caved into the cliché gesture, and added his Coke bottle to the fray of jingling glass. As vexed as he was that Dean had covered for him, he wasn't going to ruin the moment of peace, as it was unlikely it would happen again anytime soon.

John tilted his bottle to his lips, taking a drink of the amber liquid inside. He glanced over at Sam. "You did good tonight Sam."

Sam felt his throat tighten. It was John's way of saying he was proud of him, without y'know, saying it. Because God forbid a Winchester actually said how he felt. Sam stared down at the sticky vinyl table, trying to keep the extremely unhappy frown off his face. " Wasn't anything," he mumbled. Because it wasn't. He was a sucky son and a sucky brother. Just suckish all around.

John frowned, glancing over at Dean. He'd obviously expected the barely hidden dimples that graced the youngest Winchester's face whenever he was pleased with something. Not the soured face he'd received when he'd told Sam he couldn't go on the school field trip to D.C, or the one that had been plastered on his face for an entire month after he'd made Sam take the dog he'd found to the pound.

Dean shrugged, pulling his "hell if I know" face. Teenagers, he mouthed to their father before returning to perusing the menu. John huffed, and took another drink of his beer.

Sam glowered at his brother. Stop covering up for him dammit. Dean obviously felt the bitch-face locked and loaded onto him because his hand slowly drifted from beneath the menu in a one-fingered salute. He smirked at Sam. Get over it bitch. Sam's scowl deepened and he stuck out his tongue defiantly. No.

John didn't notice the pair's antics, too busy try to wave down one of the waitresses.

Sam rolled his eyes once more and buried his face behind the menu, staring down the entrée list instead. He hadn't given much thought into what he wanted. He frowned, gazing over the menu, eyes flicking to the salad list out of habit. He found his eyes moving to the sandwich list instead, fixated on the pictures of the hamburgers. He tilted his head dubiously. He didn't even like hamburgers that much. They were too… too everything. But he supposed one every once in a while wouldn't hurt. His stomach gave a sharp whine. He could tell it wasn't going to be appeased by just salad. It was craving hamburger.

He sighed, setting down the menu. Eh, he'd just pin it down to some sort of weird teenage hormonal imbalance or something. He supposed it wasn't that unusual for boys his age to crave a good hamburger once in a while, right?

Sam looked up to find that John had finally lassoed a waitress by way of charming smile and handsomely husky voice. The girl was skittish though—it was hard to tell whether it was the fact that both John and Dean had their winning grins out, or because she was just people-shy.

"Double cheeseburger with fries." John gave the boys pointed but amused looks. Hurry and order now before she bolts.

Dean laughed a silent laugh, the toothy white grin making the girl blush. "I'll have a cheeseburger with onions and fries. Oh, and pie. I love pie." He smiled cheekily at her.

She turned to Sam almost immediately, blushing furiously and shying away from the lady-killer expression. "And you?" Her voice came out a squeak, and he held back a chuckle, biting the inside of his mouth in a lopsided grin. To his surprise, this made her try to hide nonchalantly behind her writing pad. He saw Dean wink at him from out of the corner of his eyes, and he rolled them. "Uhh, I'll have a… triple bacon cheeseburger. And fries. And a shake?"

Wow. He wasn't quite sure where that came from.

The other two Winchesters apparently weren't either, because they almost did double-takes.

Once the woman had dashed off—which happened fairly quickly—Dean turned to Sam. "I take it you're hungry then?"

"Uh…"

Dean broke into another grin, reaching over and clapping Sam on the shoulder. "Welcome to the Dark Side brother. I knew you'd finally grow out of that rabbit food stage."

Sam didn't say anything, just looked away, a bit perplexed. Why he'd ordered that, he didn't know. But something didn't quite feel right. He didn't like it.

A waitress finally reappeared, setting down their food. She grinned broadly at them, giving Dean a wink. "Enjoy." Skittish had obviously gotten a friend to replace her, someone more interested in hitting up cute guys.

Sam tried to be casual about it. He really did. But within a few seconds of the plate being set down, he had then hamburger in hand and was sinking his teeth into it. God. So good. He was suddenly aware of his father and brother's eyes one him and he quickly set down the burger, reaching self-consciously to take a drink of the shake instead. What were they staring at? It wasn't like they said grace or anything. Well except for that time Dean had been sure the diner was haunted and had insisted. But that was a Latin exorcism at any rate.

He fiddled with the shake for a short while, starving to have another bite of the hamburger, but reluctant to draw attention to himself again. Finally, John and Dean turned their full attention to the food, and Sam was able to pick the burger up again. He ate more carefully this time though, trying not to eat too fast.

But his dinner was pretty soon gone, before Dean and John had even finished, and he sat twirling the straw around in the malt glass. Something was off. He was still hungry. Still wanted more to eat. Wanted another hamburger. More meat. More….

Sam stiffened in fear, suddenly aware of the pulsing sound in his ears. It sounded like… a heartbeat? Was he that antsy? Or was that triple bacon cheeseburger just giving him heart palpitations. God he'd always said they'd be the death of Dean but certainly not the death of him I mean come on he rarely ate them and he always ate healthy and worked out and he was too young to be having a heart attack wasn't he and—no. No. He furrowed his brow, frowning intensely. It wasn't his. It was coming from… Dean?

Sam stood up, his knees thumping painfully on the table edge. "Bathroom," he gritted out through the sting of pain before loping off and skidding round the tiled corner into the single-occupant bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. He leaned on it for a long minute, trying to steady his breathing before moving over to the grimy yellow sink. He turned on the thin trickle of water, cupping his hands and splashing it over his face, running a large hand through his hair.

His eyes flickered upwards, and he gazed at the mirror, whites of his eyes showing prominently. He swallowed, his stomach suddenly feeling like it was full of lead.

Something was wrong. Really wrong.