Disclaimer: I only own this story, not Supernatural or Sam and Dean!

My first Wee!chester fic, pretty much because I read some of the awesome ones you people have written and got inspired! Enjoy!

(Sam is six and Dean is ten.)

Sam watched as Tracy Jenners ran across the playground and was swept into the arms of her tall, smiling mother. He cocked his head slightly, his brown bangs falling into his eyes. He had never really longed for anyone but Dean or his Daddy to pick him up after school, but the sight of his classmates and their mothers – and sometimes fathers – sent a small pang through him. He knew that they thought he was weird, because he didn't have a 'Mom'. He had asked Dean about it, but Dean had just shaken his head and said, "We're just different Sam."

Sam lifted his book bag onto his lap in his seated position on the wall in the playground. It wasn't unusual for Dean to be a few minutes late – they did have their lessons on opposite ends of the school – so he wasn't worried. Instead, he pulled out his bedraggled, paint-spattered art book and opened it to the last page he had used. Today, they had had to draw a real live person. Sam had drawn Dean, and he had been planning to present it to him but now that he was sitting looking at it, he felt his confidence die a little. What if Dean didn't like it? It wasn't as good as some of his others. Sam bit his lip, and then let out a short gasp as the book was jerked out of his hands. He looked up to find himself face to face with Tom Jones.

His heart plunged down into his shoes and hid there, shaking.

Tom Jones was older him, even a year above Dean. He had died his hair highlighter yellow a few days ago, and his dark brown eyes glittered as he stared down at Sam's art book. Sam looked around, panicked, but Dean was nowhere to be seen. He looked back at Tom as his posse joined him, his mouth dry as sandpaper.

"Wot's this?" Tom asked loudly, waving the book just out of Sam's reach. "This is shit, Winchester. Wotcha doing 'ere? Yer brother finally abandoned ya?"

Sam felt tears pricking at his eyes and blinked them away quickly. He couldn't cry in front of bullies. But his throat was too thick for him to speak, so instead he just shook his head and looked down at the floor.

"Bet he 'as. Hear me, freak? Don't even have a mom, d'ya? She get sick of ya and leave?"

Sam flinched as Tom threw his book to the ground and stamped on it once, leaving a muddy footprint over one of the other pictures.

"My brother's coming," he managed, his voice wobbling as he struggled to contain his tears of fear and hurt.

"Ya, right," Tom scoffed, folding his arms. "Why doncha just go play in the traffic, do everyone a favour… oi, look guys! Its crying."

Sam wiped furiously at his cheeks, but the tears pushed themselves out over his eyes, as if desperate to betray him. He sniffed and felt a sob building in his throat as Tom's posse laughed loudly.

Dean, help me…

"Wot's up, Winchester?" Tom drawled, leaning forwards. "Are da big mean boys fwitening ya?"

He made a sudden movement, and Sam flinched back again. Tom burst out laughing.

"Hey!"

Sam's heart leapt at the shout, and his head flicked up as Tom turned.

Dean stood on the other side of the playground, his eyes flickering dangerously from Tom to Sam and back again. His fists clenched at his sides and he strode towards them.

"Aw look, its da big Winchester!" Tom called to his friends in a sing-song voice, and they sniggered. Still, they moved aside as Dean pushed his way into their midst, his face the picture of fury.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Jones?" he snarled, moving so that he was standing right up against the other boy. "Get the fuck away from my brother."

"Yeah? You gonna make me?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Get. Away."

Tom put on a mock-terrified expression and pretended to shudder. "Oooh, I'm so scared. Guess the kid isn't the only freak around here. Is it all kids with no mom, or jus ya pathe'ic Winchesters?"

Dean moved so fast that Sam hardly saw what happened. One moment Tom was standing in front of Dean, the next he was doubled over his crotch, his mouth open in a yelp of pain. Dean took a step forwards, and Tom stepped back quickly, hobbling slightly.

"Fuck off," Dean snapped.

Tom opened his mouth angrily, but at that moment a meaningful cough came from the school steps. They boys turned to see one of the teachers watching them, one eyebrow raised. Tom straightened up, pulling back as much dignity as he could.

"You'll pay for this, Winchester," he snarled.

Then he turned and half strode, half limped away, his posse falling into place behind him.

Dean waited until he reached the gates before turning to Sam, who still had tears glistening on his cheeks. He wiped them away quickly, horrified that Dean had seen him crying over some bully.

"Thanks, Dean," he sniffled.

Dean bent down to pick up his art book from the floor and wiped off the mud on the cover with his sleeve before holding it out to him. "What are shockingly awesome big brother's for?" he asked, smiling his usual cock-sure grin. "C'mon, Sam, lets go."

Sam nodded and grabbed at Dean's hand and trotting beside his big brother as they headed for the gates.

"I weren't crying, Dean," he said as they stepped out onto the pavement.

"I know you weren't. You're far too brave," Dean replied matter-of-factly.

Sam grinned, and then hesitated. He let go of Dean's hand and opened his art book.

"Dean? I drewed you a picture."

SWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWDW

Dean lifted the messy painting and inspected it carefully, aware that Sam was waiting anxiously for his approval. He deliberately stayed silent longer than normal, winding his brother up.

"Whatdayathink?" Sam burst out at last, finishing the sentence in less that three seconds.

"I…" Dean said slowly, frowning. "I…"

Sam's face fell, and Dean finally allowed a grin to spread over his face.

"I love it, Sammy. It's the best picture I've ever seen."

Sam's face lit up and he actually jumped into the air. "Really? Really?"

"Really," Dean assured him, handing the art book back to him. "You even put my favourite knife in too. Can I put it on my wall when we get back?"

Sam looked ecstatic. Then, as he put the picture back in his book bag, embarrassment flashed across his face.

"What?" Dean asked, smirking as he took Sam's hand again and began to walk once more. "What is it?"

"I thought you might not like it," Sam said hesitantly. "I thought, cos it's not as good as my others."

"I think it's the best," Dean replied.

A movement on the other side of the road caught his eye, and he glanced up. He stiffened as he caught sight of Tom Jones and his gang leaning against a wall, arguing. It might just have been his imagination, but he was sure that he caught the name, 'Winchester.' He swallowed hard.

I'm in trouble…

"Dean?"

Dean forced a smile back onto his face and tugged at Sam's hand. "I'm cool, dude. C'mon, I think we've still got some Lucky Charms left at home."

That got Sam moving, and Dean strode quickly away from the gang and towards their motel, his heart pounding uncomfortably.

Tell me if you guys like it so far and I'll put up another chapter!

SUPRNTRAL LVR.