Sam sat, cross legged, on the floor of yet another less than clean motel room he was sharing with his family. If not for the two beds being at the left hand side of the door, he would have found it hard to differentiate from the countless others they had stayed in over the past few years. The same damp kitchenette with the same leaky tap and the same cupboards that wouldn't close correctly. The same dingy bathroom with the shower that constantly ran cold, the toilet that needed far more than bleaching; and possibly the worst thing about all the motels in america, the same old, flat mattresses with springs poking out of every direction, barely managing to hold themselves Sam, all of these rooms had looked the same; the different tacky patterned walls and dirty carpets all seemed to merge into one in his head. He was only 6 years old, but he was already bored of all the same things. The only thing that made any of this acceptable, was the company; every time he travelled, and every room he stayed in, it was with his dad and his big brother, Dean. Dad never got Dean a bed of his own, and Sam was sure it was because they were brothers, and brothers shared. Dad never made food for Dean, but Sam didn't mind sharing his bowl with him - in fact, Sam was more than happy to share everything with Dean. They were brothers, afterall. The one thing that Sam did find strange though, is that Dad never said a word to Dean, never kissed him goodbye or waved him good morning - never even spoke about him. It was almost like dad didn't want to believe Dean existed. He, of course, knew better, because if Dean didn't exist then Dean wouldn't be sat on the floor across from him, legs also crossed, staring at his little brother.

"Pew, pew, pew!" An imitation of gun noises came from Dean's mouth as the small, green toy soldiers stormed the enemy barracks of the motel carpet. Sam copied him, toys in both hands as the remainder of them lay dead or discarded on the floor. "Watch out, solider! Enemy gunfire at 4 o'clock!" Dean ordered, figures bouncing up and down in his fingers. Sam moved his hand sharply to the side, making his own soldiers turn and shoot behind them.
"Wow, we nearly died" Sam giggled, resulting in a loud laugh coming from behind him and a hand ruffling his hair.
"I hope not, I like having my Sammy alive." John Winchester grinned, reaching down to pull his son into his arms. For six years old he was still quite small, and John had no trouble at all still carrying him like he was still a toddler.
"It's okay, Daddy." Sam promised him "Dean saved us" The man shifted uncomfortably, before lowering Sam back down to the ground. He patted him on the head and turned away, grabbing his coat off the hook on the wall and bag by the door.
"Okay, sammy." He sighed, avoiding the statement. "Daddy has to go out for a little while but he'll be back soon. Remember..."
"...Bed when I get sleepy" Sam nodded, interrupting him.
"Good boy" John walked back over and kissed his forehead "Food's on the table if you get hungry" Sam nodded again as his Dad walked out the door, and he heard the sound of the lock clicking after him. When he was gone, Sam sat back down, dropping the soldiers to the floor.
"Dean?" He frowned, now pouting. "Why does daddy never say bye-bye to you?"
"Just because he doesn't say it doesn't mean he doesn't mean to. He just forgets. Now c'mon, we've been playing all night-we should get some food" He stood up, and grabbed Sam's hand-escorting him to the table where a box of lucky charms sat next to a bowl and spoon. The elder boy helped the younger pour a bowl of cereal, and get the milk from the fridge, before helping him climb up to his chair. As always, Sam offered his brother a spoonful, but, as always, Dean shook his head.
"You never ever want any" Sam pointed out, as he did every time Dean refused his offerings.
"I'm just never hungry" Dean shrugged. "Never have been"
"But Lucky Charms are yummy!"
"I believe you, Sammy" He smirked. In all his six years of life Sam had never once seen his brother eat, or sleep-for that matter. He guessed it was a normal thing for a ten year old to do, maybe when he got that old he'd stop doing those things too. Dean had told him once that little boys like Sam needed food to grow big and strong, and old people like their dad needed it to make sure they didn't die. Boys Deans age were already big enough, and weren't at risk of dying of old age anytime soon, so there was obviously just no need for it. It all made perfect sense. It didn't stop Sam from getting disappointed though, how could Dean go without even wanting to try the cereal? "Hurry up and eat. You need to go to bed soon." Dean interrupted Sams train of thought, causing him to frown again.
"But Dad said when i get sleepy"
"I know what dad said but look at you, you're already yawning" Sam shook his head, but he couldn't deny it anymore. He had already started yawning and rubbing his eyes before his dad had even left. Dean was right. "Not before brushing your teeth and putting your pyjamas on" Sam grumbled, but, once he had finished eating, did as he was asked. Some nights he'd be willing to put up more of a fight, but was starting to learn that maybe it was just easier to do as his brother said. The only times he made any sort of full objection recently was when he really didn't want to sleep. He used to not listen to Dean at all, especially when they were on their own, but he soon came to realise that dad wasn't going to be around very much, so he needed his brother. Where Dad went, Sam didn't know. He used to try asking Dean if he knew, but the elder Winchester only seemed to know as much as he did-that their dad would vanish almost every night and not come back for long time-sometimes even for almost an entire day.

Once Sam had crawled into bed, tucked under the scratchy covers and light turned off, Dean sat at the edge of his bed. "Want a bedtime story?" He asked, and Sam nodded. "Okay, well.." He hesitated "Once upon a time there was a young prince named Sam, and his awesome older brother, Dean. The sons of King John, they were some day going to own all of the entire kingdom. Or they would if there was any kingdom left to own, as one day a dragon attacked-planning to burn the whole place down…" By the time the kingdom had been saved and the brothers had destroyed the dragon-Dean doing most of the work and taking most of the glory-Sam had already fallen asleep. Dean smiled slightly, laying by his brothers side and closing his eyes-silently promising to stay and watch him until morning. A few hours later, just as the sun was rising, John Winchester came back to his motel room to look around and see nothing but his youngest son asleep in his bed. Sam's arms wrapped tight around the blanket, cuddling it to his chest like he did every night. John sighed, concern setting into his face. He knew Sam had been through a lot, but by now he'd expected things to be different, and for the boy to be at least a little better- at least for him to have stopped all of the play and pretend like this. Oh well he thought, hopefully someday soon Sam would come to accept the truth, no matter how hard that might be.