A/N…..This is actually the first fan-fiction I ever wrote. It was originally written back in 2008/2009 and posted on another forum. I followed one of my favorites author's here to and decided I would try posting. This is my second post here. In my first post I was getting used to how things work (and still am) so I didn't make any notes. I hope I'm getting this right and that you enjoy the stories. I wish that I owned the show, characters and everything that go along with Supernatural but unfortunately I don't and never will. Even of the babbling on with the story.

John stood, his mouth hanging open, as the judge read his decision. The courtroom was suddenly plunged into an eerie silence as John realized that he was loosing his boys. This can't be happening. It isn't true. How can they take my boys away, he thought as anger began to boil to the surface. No, I won't let this happen. I lost their mother; I will not lose them, too. But, John knew there was nothing he could do, well nothing that wouldn't put him more on the radar then he already was. John looked over to his boys and felt the tears build in his eyes.

Sammy stood clinging unto Dean's arm as tears ran freely down his chubby twelve-year old cheeks. He clung unto Dean as if his life depended on it, and seeing who he was, it probably did. How had things gone so wrong so quickly? Just a few days ago he and his brother had been planning a little road trip to the zoo and now today they were in a family court room being told that were now wards of the court and would have to go live with a foster family. Sam's stomach churned he didn't want to go anywhere except home with his father and Dean.

Dean stood still, his face an emotionless mask. His mind, however, was a whirl wind of emotions. This was his fault, it always was. If he had just stayed home instead of following his dad none of this would be happening. But, as usual he knew better and didn't feel that his dad should handle this case alone. So, after Sam had gone to bed, he had slipped out and followed his dad to the warehouse. He was right, John couldn't have handled things by himself, in fact, if it hadn't been for Dean, John wouldn't have been around to watch as his boys were swept into the foster system. But, none of that mattered now, all that mattered was he had disobeyed a direct order, yet again, and had wound up getting he and Sam taken away. When would he ever learn?

Bobby Singer stood by John, his hand gripping his arm, well aware of the anger and fear that was now welling up deep inside his friend. He sighed and followed his gaze as it landed upon on the older of the two boys. Dean's face was still an emotionless mask; that is if you didn't know him. Bobby knew that boy. He could see the emotions that ran just below the surface. He could see the anger, at himself, and the fear, for his brother; that burned in the young man's eyes. Bobby understood the reasoning that made Dean follow his father that night; hell he would have done the same thing. However, Bobby also knew that at this moment none of that mattered to Dean, all that mattered to him was that he had yet again let his brother and dad down.

John sank down onto the hard surface of the court room bench and covered his face with his hands, "What do we do now, Bobby," he muttered as he lifted his head in time to see his boys escorted out a side door and the door closed shut behind them.

"We'll figure it out John. We always do," Bobby said not really sure if he believed what he was saying.

Sam blindly followed his brother out of the court room, before he knew what had happened he saw his brother stumble forward. Sam looked down at his feet and flinched. He had been following so closely behind Dean that he had stepped on his big brother's heel tripping him up a little.

"Damn it Sam, why don't you watch what you're doing," Dean growled, spinning around. His breath caught in his chest and he immediately regretted the harshness with which he had spoken. Sam stared at his big brother his lips trembling as the reality of the situation was beginning to really sink in. "Hey, Sam, I'm sorry. I..I," Dean stuttered then turned around and continued following the elderly bailiff through the corridor.

The bailiff stopped at a conference room door. He motioned for the boys to enter then followed them in. He told the boys to have a seat and let them know that a social worker would be in to see them shortly. He then left the room and the boys behind closing the door sharply as he exited.

Dean positioned himself in the chair closest to the door making sure that he had a clear view of it so as not to miss anyone who entered. Sam took the seat next to him placing his brother between himself and the door. Dean sighed and ran his hand over his face. Well, I have really gone and done it this time, he thought. You would think that I would have learned my lesson about disobeying dad's orders after the Shtriga. But, no, I had to go and ignore him again and now look at the trouble I landed us in.

Dean's self inflicted tongue lashing was interrupted by Sam shifting, ever so slightly, in his seat. Dean turned and looked at Sam, really looked at him. A lump built up in his throat and he felt as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach. Sam's big hazel eyes that usually sparkled with life were now sparkling with tears. Dean's anger at himself grew ten fold in that moment. It was his fault that his brother was hurting, afraid. He had done this. He had to find a way to fix it; but, how?

Sam wiped the back of his hand over his eyes and took a shaky breath. He looked at Dean and saw that he too was frightened. Sam also took notice that Dean was trying very hard to keep up a brave front for him. Even at twelve, Sam was able to pick up on his brother's emotions, nothing was lost on him. He also knew that Dean blamed himself for their current situation. And, even though Dean had played a part; it was actually his fault.
Sam blamed himself and he was not going to let Dean carry the weight of this on his shoulders like he did everything else. No way, no how.

Taking another shaky breath Sam sat straighter in his chair and looked Dean straight in his eyes, "Dean, I uh I," he stammered, "Dean, I'm sorry. It's all my fault that this happened. I should have realized that you went to help dad after I fell asleep. I shouldn't have panicked. If I had been braver and not run to Mrs. Clover's the police wouldn't have been waiting for you and dad to return. They wouldn't have seen you all beat up and they wouldn't have thought that dad had been, well that he had been abusing you. They wouldn't have taken us away. Dean it's all my fault." Sam sighed, feeling the weight of guilt ease a bit after his confession to his brother.

Dean sat silent, his mouth hanging open; Sam's confession having taken him by surprise. After a few seconds the shock of what he just heard began to ware off. How could Sam blame himself for any of this? Sam was his responsibility. Sam's action was a direct result of his. Dean hadn't given a thought of what Sam might have done if he had woken to find himself alone in the apartment. Sam was only twelve, for crying out loud. Sam had woken up found himself alone and went to the one place he felt safe. No, Sam was not to blame at all; he was.

Dean reached out and put his hand on Sam's shoulder, "No, Sammy, none of this is your fault. I shouldn't have left you alone, end of story," Dean held up his hand waving off the protest he could see Sam about to give. "Sam, I screwed up again. It was me. I didn't think. I didn't listen and now, as usual, you and dad are the ones paying for it. I'm sorry Sam. I don't know how, but one way or another we will get back with dad. We just have to stick together. We'll get through this like we have gotten through everything else that has been thrown our way." Dean gave Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The door to the conference room opened and a young woman entered. Her heart broke when she took in the lost frightened appearance of Sam. She didn't believe the other more experienced social workers when they told her it got easier with time. She didn't think it ever would. Sam looked like all the other children whom she had placed. The fear of the unknown out weighing the fear of being left in an abusive situation. She sighed and placed her briefcase down on the table. She found the file she was looking for. She read it over quickly before speaking,

"My name is Ms. Giles. I will be your case worker," she paused and looked at both boys. "Let me see. Dean," she asked extending her hand out to the oldest of the brothers. Nodding, after Dean had shaken her hand, she turned her attention to Sam.

"You must be Sam," she said her voice a little softer then it had been when she had addressed Dean. Sam nodded. She smiled, looked at the file again then back at the brothers, "I am pleased to tell you that we have been able to locate a family that is willing to take both of you in. The couple is new to our system and is very eager. It seems they don't like the idea of separating siblings. They will be in shortly. I know that this is a lot to take in so if you have any questions I will try to answer them while we wait."

Dean cleared his throat, "I have one question. When can we go home?"

Ms. Giles fixed Dean with an amused gaze. She had heard about him. From what she could tell from this brief meeting what she had heard was right. His eyes, though strikingly beautiful, were jaded far beyond what was normal for someone of his age. She had been told that he had a problem with authority. He liked things his way and his way was with his father. "Well, Dean, I'm not sure when you can go home. If by "go home" you mean back with your father. It isn't safe for you with him. From what we have discovered through our investigation he…."

"He what? Abuses me," Dean's mouth twitched into a smirk, "I don't know where you got your "facts" but let me assure you, Ms. Giles, my dad has never been abusive towards me or my brother."

Dean had been so wrapped up in his conversation with Ms. Giles that he hadn't noticed they were no longer alone. "Excuse me is this a bad time? Would you like for us to come back later, Ms. Giles," a man asked from just behind Ms. Giles' left shoulder. Something about the way the man had spoken sent a chill down Dean's spine.

Ms. Giles sighed, "No, Mr. Danforth now is a good time. I think that I am finished here. Dean, Sam, this is Mr. and Mrs. Danforth, they are going to be your foster parents for the time being."

Mr. Danforth stepped forward and extended his hand out to Dean. Dean couldn't put his finger on it but something bothered him about Mr. Danforth and the way he was looking at him. Ms. Giles pulled Mr. Danforth to the side and explained about Dean and how he was having trouble adjusting. Mr. Danforth smiled his most charming smile and then turned to look directly at Dean, "I'm sure once we get home everything will be fine, wont it Dean?" Dean found himself nodding and for the second time he felt a chill run along his spine.