A/N: I had no spell check, so I hope to update a spell checked version later. Forgive the spelling/grammar mistakes!
You're different. I'm different. Let's be different together.
That is the advice that any normal older brother would have given if their younger sibling asked for guidance in the way of women.
Unnfortunately, the Winchesters were anything but normal.
So, when a 12-year-old Sam asked a 16-year-old Dean for advice on how to talk to girls, he really should have expected the nature of Dean's answer.
"What kind of advice is that!" Sam whispered annoyed.
"The kind that other people would be greatful for" Dean said pointedly.
Sam sighed and responded in a hushed whisper, "Oh come on Dean, how does that help? I don't know how to be like you."
"Simple: be charming, smooth, confident-"
"Arrogant" Sam muttered under his breathe. Nonetheless, Dean heard and laughed.
"Yah wit's good too, the ladies love that. Huh, ya dad I know. Sorry Sammy I gotta get going" he paused before hanging up and hastely adding "Dad sends his best".
No he doesn't. Sam thought bitterly. Really, Sam shouldn't let the closeness between Dean and his dad bother him. He really shouldn't, but he did. He just couldn't understand what it was about himself that made his dad act so wary around him. Sam wasn't the only one who noticed.
Dean and Uncle Bobby saw the way his father acted, but skirted around the issue and avoided it like the plague. They were Winchesters, and Winchesters didn't have heart to hearts. Besides, Sam had a feeling that crying to Dean and Uncle Bobby was the exact thing that his dad expected him to do. Sam also had a feeling that his dad's expectations weren't changing anytime soon. He would always seem the youngest as weak and hesitant. And Sam knew that those expectactions would always follow him.
Not that it matters. Soon, I'll be old enough to go away. Then Dad has all the time in the world to spend with Dean.
While skimming through the bookshelves, his thoughts were halted when his eyes met with green eyes. Quickly blushing, he grabbed the nearest book and looked down to his hands. He absentmindly noted that the carpet was a lurid orangy-red colour. When he gathered enough courage to look back up, the green eyes were gone.
Taking the book back to his table, Sam tried skimming his yes over the page only to realize a few moments later that he had read the first line six times and still had no idea what he had read. His nerves were still racing and he was still thinking about possible ways that he could approach the girl. It wasn't until he was ready to put the book back that he realized he had chosen Chicken Soup for the Girl's Soul.
Sam rolled his eyes and felt grateful that nobody had seemed to notice his strange choice. The last thing he needed was another reason for the guys in his class to bug him: being the new kid brought him enough attention as it was.
After returning the book to its proper place, unlike the brilliant specimen who put it in the town's history book section, Sam returned to thinking about more pressing matters: how to talk to the girl with green eyes. He pondered on how to be like Dean for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and walking over to the girl that had caught his attention the second she walked into the library and stopped by his favourite book.
The entire way to her desk, he repeated the mantra over and over in his head.
Be charming. Be smooth. Be condifident. Be like Dean. Be charming. Be smooth. Be condifident. Be like Dean. Okay Sam, you can do it. Talk!
"Um I just wanted to…"
Of course, the second she turned her head to look at him, any ounce of self confidence quickly vanished, along with any form of coherent thought.
"…y-you know s-say hi-"
"No. Go away." She stopped him abruptly, with her cold tone stopping anymore of his stuttering.
So this is what rejection from a girl felt like. To be honest, Sam was hurt. Even strangers had the same wariness regarding him as dad did.
But, then she continued, "It's just that, I'm not suppose to talk to boys."
She smiled apologetically and Sam felt a little better. But, still incredibly embarrassed and awkward, he walked away before he could do any more damage to his self-esteem.
"Ready to play doctor?"
The girl with green eyes, Amy, brought him out of his reverie. He was still nervous about the fact that the girl, Amy, was this close to him.
"So, you gonna tell me?"
She looked at hiim disbelievingly before answering.
"How you kicked the crap out of the guys, I mean…" she paused , " but you're kind of…"
She stopped again, but Sam voiced her thoughts.
She closed her eyes briefly and looked a bit guilty, "Exactly." Nonetheless, she persisted. "So?"
Sam had been in situations where he had to explain the reason behind his fighting skills before. Thus, without any hesitation at all, he picked from his arsenal of fabrications and settled on "I just watch a lot of Bruce Lee movies."
She bit her lip and nodded her head. It was obvious to Sam that she didn't buy it, but figured that it wasn't her place to pry into his life. Sam realized instantly how relieving it was to have a person like that around: someone who didn't make you say or do anything you didn't feel comforatble saying or doing.
"You thirsty?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the blatent lie.
"So you live around here?"
At the sound of the fridge closing, Sam realized that it was nice change to have normal small talk with a normal person.
And so the conversation flowed. They talked about music, their parents, and Sam finally thought he had found someone to call a friend. Well, that is, until the spell was broken.
"Sam, you are a freak…"
And just when he thought he had finally found someone to confide in, his worst fear returned. She hated him too. He was different, he always would be. Normal would always escape him.
"…but so is, I don't know, Jimmy Hendrix and so is Picasso."
He smiled. He had nevr thought about it like that before.
"And so am I. All the coolest people are freaks.
Just then, he realized, that maybe normal wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
Of course, the more-than-average kiss that soon followed probably had something to do with that.
"Come with me."
Her watery green eyes were begging him.
He was a hunter. She was a monster. He was a Winchester. She was a Kitsune. He was supposed to kill her. He was supposed to like doing it.
But she had talked with him. She had made him feel, for once, that it was okay to be him. That he wasn't a freak or someone to avoid.
He realized quickly that just like there was no way he could kill her, there was no way that he could leave her to fend for herself.
He owed her.
Besides, there were worse things than hormonal teenage boys that could hurt the girl with green eyes.
His bag was packed. So was hers.
They were at Bobby's, and were ready to take the next bus out.
Sam wasn't stupid, he knew that Boddy and his dad could easily track the fake credit cards they usually used. He had also fantasized escapign on more thasn one occasion, and knew that a quarter of the money in the vault was enough to last him three months at the Schneider Inn three cities south. So, taking half the money in the vault, Sam looked at the girl with the green eyes one more time.
He realized that he wasn't sorry. He wasn't sorry to be leaving the place where a future he didn't want was already laid out for him.
Besides, being reckless and not caring was exactly the type of thing Dean would do. And last he checked, his brother had advised the younger Winchester to be more like him.
Dean would applaud him.
Dad wouldn't care.
Bobby would calm down once Sam called him and told him he was safe.
He wouldn't have to tell any of them that he wasn't alone, or that he was helping Amy.
No he would just tell them that he was moving on.
Dean could take care of the family business.
Sam wanted something different.
"You okay?" She asked while staring right into his eyes from her seat next to him. It was obvious she was looking for anything resembling regret or sadness or even anger.
He looked at his new friend for a second before smiling and replying. "Actually, I don't think I've ever been better."
She smiled in return after realizing the truth behind his answer and relaxed into her bus seat. Yawning quite loudly, she then closed her eyes and made a show of using his arm as a pillow.
When he inquired as to the abilitiy of his so called "wiry" arms to function as a suitable pillow, she responded by lightly hitting him in the stomach and reminded him that he was suppose to be the gentleman.
"But I thought that you liked that I was different" he quipped.
She smirked and he felt more than saw her roll her eyes at his attempts at humor.
They'd be okay. He'd make sure of it.
A dark shadow slithered into the chamber and whispered to the being in the center of the room.
"He has left the father's protection."
The being responded casually, "I am aware."
"He left with the Kitsune female."
The being looked towards the messenger and smirked, "I do believe that little Sammy has sealed his fate."
The messenger nodded and slid out of the room again, to return to watching the vessel. He would not return to the room for another six years.
They'd be okay. He'd make sure of it.
A/N: This was just something I did for the heck of it, and because I couldn't get to sleep :P I don't know if I'll continue, but if I do, I will most definitely be rewriting this chapter ! That being said, I only watch Supernaturual sporadically and will probs catch up on a few seasons before I write anything of substance ;)