Halloween in itself would be an awesome holiday, Dean thought as he was sitting on the concrete blocks outside the grade four exit of the elementary school. Free candy, costumes, there really wasn't a lot to dislike, except it was two days before the day their mother had died eight years ago. That meant Dad was in a pissy, short, and defiantly drunken mood for the next day or so, if he was there at all. And when it was over he would be restless and they would defiantly be moving. Sammy didn't really get it yet, or at least he knew enough not to talk about it or ask. Deans position? If he thought about it he would still be 4 years old, dressed as a tiger, Sammy was a lion, eating cupcakes decorated like pumpkins that his mom had made. Dean didn't think about it that much.

This year Sam was excited, he had begged Dad to let them go trick or treating, Dean thinks that Sam has only gone maybe three times, including that one time with Dad when Dean was 4. There was always some reason they didn't, Dad would usually have 'business' around this time of year, or they would be holed up in some hunting cabin, like last year, Dad making him do target practise in the back, while Sam pouted and Dad trained to forget.

This year, Dad had said that as long as he was home, Sam and Dean could go trick or treating together. He had even left Dean some money when he had left on Friday for costumes for the Halloween parties at school. Sam had wanted to be a skeleton, so he and Den had gone to the thrift store and bought a plain black sweat suit and he and Sam had painted the bones on it. Dean had bought a generic mask, a goblin or something, even he wasn't quite sure. When Dad came home two days later, even he had to laugh at the costumes. In fact, he was in a half decent mood really, and took them out to the diner down the road for supper. This as usual, was too good to be true. Sam didn't want to eat what ever he had ordered, and Dad was irritated, and Dean watched as they almost had an all out fight in the booth.

When they go home, both sides went to their respective rooms, in the apartment they were renting and Dean finished his math homework on the kitchen table. 3 am, after Dean had crawled into the bed he shared with Sam, he woke up to Sam whipping off his covers and racing to the bathroom, urging as he ran. Dad woke up while Dean was sitting on the bathtub rim behind Sam, hand on his shoulder as Sam heaved and heaved. Dad, standing in the doorway looked almost guilty. Dean knew that he was thinking to how he had forced Sam to eat supper. The guilt morphed into relief when Dad felt Sam's forehead and detected the fever. Sam stayed in Dad's room that night, and Dean was pretty sure that none of them really slept, Sam's loud urgent gagging and sobs, even through the thin apartment walls, waking him almost every hour.

Dad had to work at the garage next day, and luckily the older lady from down the hall, Ms. Turner, said she would come and stay with Sam, and Dean went to school. Dad's relief at Sam having the stomach flu was short lived, when that night, he too was throwing up. Which was kind of weird, in Dean's opinion, Dad didn't get sick very often. And Dad was like a wounded bear when he was really hurt or sick. Both Dean and Sam knew to keep their distance. When Sam asked Dad if he could go to school on Tuesday, Dad had grunted yes without even looking at him. Even Dean could see Sam was still pale and although he had stopped throwing up, should have stayed home.

Tonight though, they would go trick or treating, Dad sure wasn't going anywhere today, not without a bucket any how, and he had promised Sam. Dean checked his watch, it was 2:55. Sam should be out soon, and Dean hoped he would hurry, he was pretty tired after the last two nights and he wanted to sleep a little before tonight. His head felt a little cloudy, and he blamed it on the stupid mask. He had worn it in the afternoon to the middle school party and the rubber smell had made him feel so nauseous he didn't even eat anything. The thought of the mask, now crammed into his backpack made his stomach flip flop. 'Think of something else', he willed himself. And he tried to think of target practise with Dad, or making a fort at Bobby's with Sam, or Jenni who sat in front of him. She was a lady bug for Halloween, with those cute little antenna that bounced around when she walked.

"Dean!"

Sam was out of class and there were kids in costumes milling around, getting on the bus and walking home.

Dean started walking, and Sam ran to catch up. Dean noticed he was still a little pale.

"What time do we get to go trick or treating?"

"After supper," Dean slowed down; the speed walking was making his stomach roll.

"Cool," Sam was smiling wide and infectious, it made the corners of Dean's mouth turn up. "You have to wear the mask, Dean."

Ehhhh the mask, his stomach twirled, and he swallowed hard to keep his lunch from coming back up.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm tired, I am going to sleep when we get back for an hour," Dean stumbled through the words.

One block from the apartment, Dean couldn't hold it in anymore. Stopping by the movie store, he urged and retched, fighting it the whole way. He hated throwing up, in fact he really dreaded it, and today, it felt like he emptied his stomach and probably got rid of some important inside stuff. When he had finished, he was out of breath, and his undershirt was wet with cold sweat, but he felt a lot better. Until he looked at Sam. Sam's face was the definition of disappointment, it was mixed with concern, but Dean could mostly see disappointment. Dean couldn't even look him in the eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled and they walked back to the apartment.

He really was feeling better though, and as they were walking up the stairs, he thought maybe it was a one time thing. "Sam I feel better, if we don't tell Dad we could still go tonight."

Sam looked at him with the look that he had been perfecting lately, the one that said, 'I'm not stupid Dean, even if you might be'. And Dean wanted to punch him. But he opened the apartment door instead.

Dad was sitting on the couch, reading some book that looked like it was a billion years old, copying things into his journal. When Sam and Dan came in he closed the books and put them in his duffel bag that was lying on the floor.

"Are you leaving?" Sam asked quietly.

"No," John answered gravelly. "How was school?"

"Good," Sam said quickly, and disappeared into their room.

The other thing about Dad was that he was better than a lie detector; and Sam wasn't a real good liar. Dean guessed he still wanted to go trick or treating.

Dean fell into the worn chair in front of him, his legs and arms were sore.

"Tonight, you stay on this block. Don't go in people's houses, and you come back here right after," Dad instructed.

"Yeah," Dean closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his chest. It was cold in the room and he thought about going to his and Sam's room.

When he opened his eyes again, it was not an hour later, and his stomach was twisting again. He probably should have known. Sweat was collecting on his face as he tried to keep what ever was in his stomach down. His legs were twisted under him, but he knew if he moved it would be over. His stomach was like a volcano, and it was all he could do to contain it.

"Dean?" Dad's voice was coming form the kitchen.

Dean tried to answer, but he couldn't, and the urgency was enough to fling him to his feet and propel him to the bathroom where he retched and retched until it felt like there was nothing left to come up. When he was done he rested his head against the toilet and tried to catch his breath, gagging a little. Dad was there, in the door, and Sam. Dad wiped his face with a cool cloth, and helped him walk to bed. A while later, Sam came in and lay down next to him.

"Sorry," Dean choked out.

"We can go next year," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean tried to smile.

"Dad and me rented us a movie, and bought candy," Sam offered.

Candy, that turned Dean's stomach again, and he struggled to control it. "No candy…"

"Okay."

"I'll watch the movie"

"Okay!"

"Okay," Dean's mouth twitched into a smile. Maybe this night could be salvaged.

They curled up on the worn brown couch; Dad went to his room, probably to sleep. Halfway through the movie, Dean found himself next to the toilet, throwing up bile and not much else. Sam came in and sat down next to him, glass of water in his hand.

"Dad said we are leaving soon."

Dean looked at Sam. 'Seriously now?' he thought.

"Sammmmm," he gestured to the toilet.

"I know," he pressed his lips together. "Halloween sucks for us doesn't it?"

"Around here? Pretty much. "