Sam stood in the doorway. Trying to look guilty. He shuffled his feet and tried to feel less uncomfortable. For a chubby twelve year old, the earth just wouldn't open up on demand. Mrs Charles droned on. Dean nodded and looked more serious at each time her voice rose.
The stupid earth's crust opened up that one time he hadn't wanted it to. In Oregon. There were still nightmares about the thing that had crawled out. He looked up at his big brother. Dean and Dad had cut the thing in half with a machine gun.

'No such thing as overkill kiddo.'

If only this could be solved so easily. He was only watching. He hadn't gone in. He could have. Not many locks got in his way. He kept a lock in his book bag. Drills.
When they were on the road, at night, he could open it easy, in 15 seconds. Over and over. Dean sat at his side striping down a rifle or sharpening blades. Click, twist, click, spring. Done.

'Well done kiddo.
Again.'

Dean wasn't unarmed without a weapon. Charm was deadly too. Sam wished he had charm. He had big feet and whispered when he talked. He also had one ear longer than the other. Mrs Charles had dragged him all the way home with it. He didn't cry.
"I'm so sorry Miss Charles" Dean smiles.
"It's Mrs Charles. As well you know Dean Winchester"
"I'm sorry Mrs Charles. I forget someone as young as you could be married" Dean blinked a Morse code with his long lashes. It said. I respect you and you are pretty. She blushed a little. Not immune to the magnetism Dean seemed to send out to girls.
"That aside. If I catch your brother staring through my window again, I'll call the police"
Sam peeked up at Mrs Charles's niece through his overlong fringe. She was watering the lawn. Mrs Charles saw where Sam was looking, turned on her heel and stomped off.
"I promise Mrs Charles. We will have a long talk and it won't happen again. Sammy. Get inside. Now"

"Sammy. You pervert. Mrs Charles?" Dean smirked and closed the door. "Maybe a million years ago she was hot" Dean teased. "But now? I've seem better looking dogs"
"Bite me" Sam yelled at Dean, stormed into the bathroom. He slammed and locked the door behind him.
"Woof woof" Dean barked. He went to the kitchen to start the food preparation. Dad wouldn't be back until late. But Sam needed to eat. Growing boy. He would have to take him clothes shopping at the weekend. Dad hadn't seen the gap between shoe and trouser leg increasing.

It was just so humiliating. He was close to tears. Sitting on the floor with his back on the door, he couldn't remember feeling more miserable. He didn't know why he watched Mrs Charles's niece through her window. He liked her. He had seen her at school and she had sat next to him once on a bus. Her leg so close to his. Now he would never be able to see her.
Maybe even, if he was as brave as Dean and Dad had told him, talk to her.
He had made a rose from a piece of red paper in art class. He wanted to leave it somewhere she would see.
If she even knew he existed.

"Sammy?" Dean knocked on the door.
"Go away"
"Chow time bro"
"Go away"
"Look" Dean sunk down by the door. Sitting with his back to it. "You just got to be more careful. If we don't act normal, people start paying attention."
"I know" Sam sighed. We do what we do and shut up about it.
"Dad doesn't have to know" Dean promised.
"Thanks"
"You ever coming out of there?"
"No"
"When you do. Foods on the counter" Dean got up. He had to secure the house and go weapons detail before Dad got back.
On his own by the looks of things. "I was never this bad" he shrugged and disappeared down the hallway.

In the kitchen a plate sat steaming. Next to it a pair of shades. A note written in his brother's neat handwriting.

'If they can't see where you are looking. You get in less trouble. Woof'