HAPPY BIRTHDAY SONCNICA!!!!

Here's your present!!! Hope you like it sweetie!!

This is also my first attempt at a weechester. Hope it's okay.... Any mistakes are my own....

Enjoy!!

Disclaimer: don't own 'em

Us & Them

John stood up and stretched from his position sitting on a straight back chair as he pooled over what might be his next hunt, feeling all the familiar pops and cracks in his achy joints before deciding he needed more coffee. It was barely seven in the morning, the sharp rays of the early morning sun peaking its rays around the tall pine trees surrounding the crummy-looking motel, but most importantly, it was Monday. The crappiest day of the week…at least according to him.

He couldn't go back to sleep after hearing the news about strange deaths involving an abandon building in Tampa, Florida, and so what better way to burn the midnight oil than doing research on a potential – and very promising – hunt? A simple haunting. Just salt an' burn the poor SOBs. No harm, no foul.

Yeah right, Winchester, and tomorrow while you're at it, you can restore peace in the Middle East, John thought grimly as he wondered when on earth a hunt had ever gone right. It just makes the job more interesting, right? It's what Dean had said on more than one occasion.

Sipping his steaming hot coffee and watching the other motel residents packing up and leaving the godforsaken place through a crack in the window, he almost swore out loud when he causally looked down at his watch and noticed the time. Shit! The kids have to be at school. Where the hell did the time go anyway?

"Dean? Sam? C'mon you two, time to get up and go to school," John called, storming into their bedrooms. As horrible and foul smelling the place was with holes decorating some of the walls and showing exposed wood, it at least had two full-size bedrooms with a complete kitchen and living room. Almost like a suite…the hell version of it.

"Dad," Dean groaned, not making a move to get up from under the covers, "do we really have to go?"

John smiled, remembering a time when he had complained to his parents about not going to school too, but his smile quickly faltered when he realized Dean doesn't have a mother to complain to. At eleven, Dean had already lost way more than anyone his age. Not only did he lose his mother, but he lost his innocence, his childhood, and most importantly, a home. But despite all the things he lost in that fire all those years ago, he made sure his seven year-old brother had everything he never had: a life.

That settled heavily on the father's heart, but pushing back the awful feeling, he smiled, "C'mon kiddo, I'm sure there'll be lots of girls just waiting to get your number. Where's Sammy?" he asked suddenly when he didn't spot his youngest in bed.

That woke Dean up. Glancing at the spot where his brother was supposed to be and seeing an empty space, Dean quickly got up from bed and searched for his baby brother, almost pushing John out of the way.

Amused, John didn't say anything, just watched his oldest practically ran outside, still in boxers. Well, that's one way how to wake him up, John thought as he came to stand right outside the bathroom, and after much debate, he cautiously opened the door, hoping to see his other son but frowned when he wasn't in there. Where the hell was he? John thought his youngest would be in the bathroom getting ready for their first day of school. The ancient-old paternal fear that comes so constantly and so unexpectedly filled the father's heart with dread and made him more frightened at the prospect of his son being abducted by a evil supernatural SOB. It was that fear that made him move, grabbing his favorite sawed-off shotgun and some holy water (always just in case) on the way to the front door, but he stopped at the muffled voices just beyond the door. Closely listening, he could just make out the distinct voices of his children, relieving the fearful father.

When Dean woke to his father's questioning about the whereabouts of Sammy, he turned panic-filled eyes to the side of the bed his brother always occupied and finding it empty, he started his frantic search for the kid. He almost ran over John just getting out of the room. He felt bad for almost pushing his dad, but when it came to his little brother…even hell better watch out.

He swiftly glanced at the bathroom, and not hearing any noise or seeing any light, meant that his brother was not in there. Nope, Sammy's not in here, Dean noted when he took one glance in his father's bedroom. Nope, he's not here either, Dean concluded when he checked the kitchen and living room. Not even waiting to put on something decent to wear instead of the tee and boxers he wore to bed, much less put his shoes on, he nearly yanked on the poor, broken-down doorknob in his haste, blind fear and panic over his missing brother.

Dean stopped short as he spotted Sam, already dressed for school with backpack in tow, sitting in a chair right outside their door.

"Hey squirt, what's up?" Dean asked, sitting on a chair opposite of the one Sam was occupying.

Sam barely gave Dean a glance, taking in his brother's 'preferred' apparel in amusement, before shifting his gaze back on the huge, red-bricked building that was to be their new school for the month. Sam had no idea how long he stared at it, but he knew it was long enough to make his stomach tie up in painful knots. He dreaded going to school, but at the same time he was excited of learning something new and meeting new people.

"Dean? Do you think it'll be like the last school we were in?" Sam piped up.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked casually as he too looked over at the building. It seemed to be the largest building looming over the entire town just on the outskirts of Tampa.

"Y'know, being called 'freaks', being bullied by the mean kids, you getting into fights – and getting suspended, and meeting a lot of girls…strange girls," Sam said the last like it was something offensive and contagious.

"Man, I can't help it if girls think I'm hot," Dean replied, smirking.

"Dean – you're only eleven!"

"And you're only seven. So why am I talkin' to a baby 'bout grownup stuff?"

Sam punched him in the shoulder, "I am not a baby!"

"Are too"

"Are not"

"Are too"

"Dean!"

"Okay, fine, you are not a baby…but you sure do act like one."

Sam scowled at him, "And you act like such a jerk"

"Oooh, I'm shakin' in my knees," Dean taunted, taking pleasure in seeing the several different shades of red his baby brother was displaying, "but I guess it takes one to know one."

"Jerk"

"B –" Dean almost said before he thought better of it, knowing his father would have his head on a platter for cussing at his brother.

"Sorry Squirt," Dean apologized.

"Don't call me 'Squirt'," Sam huffed.

"Kiddo?"

"No"

"Chief?"

"No"

"Little Dude?"

"No"

"Mini-me?"

Glaring, Sam said hotly, "Hell no Dean."

"Wow. Such big words for a little man," Dean said appreciatively, "Besides, you're not supposed to cuss – Dad's rule."

"That's not Dad's rule – that's yours. You and Dad can cuss all you want, so why can't I? Is it because I'm too young?"

"It's because you're supposed to be the 'golden boy'. The cute and cuddly one…like a Chihuahua…all bark and no bite," Dean teased as he ruffled Sam's hair.

Sam pulled back, "And what are you supposed to be? Huh? The pain-in-the-neck?"

"Sammy, dude," Dean said, acting wounded, "I'm the cool one."

"Whatever," Sam said, shrugging his shoulder as he looked back at the school.

Huh. Usually I was able to say anything to ease the kid's worry. Where did I go wrong? Dean thought, eyebrows raised as he observed his brother's tense stature.

After a moment, Sam asked, "Why do we have to move all the time?"

"You know why Sammy," Dean answered automatically, in a tone that meant end of discussion.

Sam sighed in defeat and asked again, "Do you think it'll be like our old school?"

"Didn't we already discuss this?" Dean asked, perplexed.

"Do you?" Sam prompted.

Dean looked at the worry lining Sam's young, boyish face and said, truthfully, "Sam, I'm not gonna lie to you. The schools we go to may be different and the scenery's always gonna change, BUT people don't change, they don't change man, and that's somethin' you're gonna have to get used to. I mean, the faces always change, but people don't."

Sam nodded slowly, but Dean could tell his brother was finding it hard to grasp the meaning behind it.

"Listen Sammy, there's us…and then there's them," Dean said, nodding towards the school.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Sam asked, perplexed.

Dean smiled at his brother, "Soon little brother…soon."

*******************************************************************************************************************

Sam was already swearing that he was somehow jinxed by the time lunchtime came as children's noisy shouts and screams filled the once eerily, silent halls.

There were a lot of things Sam could take in stride, like being late for school, kids calling him a freak, and always finding a group of bullies who looked like they would love to use him as a punching bag. Those were things he could take with a grain of salt. It was no biggie. It was nothing he couldn't handle, and he would thank Dean for that. Even though his brother and father deemed him too young to know what they were doing everytime they went out and left him with either Uncle Bobby or Jim, he at least took part in the training. So learning self defense gave him some comfort in knowing he could take care of himself and not have to rely on his big brother.

As much as he loved Dean and would always look up to him, Sam figured that it was time for him to stand up for himself and fight his own battles. But that still didn't ease his feeling of being jinxed. Even though it might be his third 'new' school, in the year so far, he didn't understand why kids all have the same kind, the same level, of cruelness in every school he and Dean went. Why can't it always be like Kindergarten? He wondered, remembering the time when school was most enjoyable and kids weren't cruel, but he guessed being in the first grade meant taking the first step into a world of darkness and uncertainty.

"Hey Winchester!"

Sam, sitting alone in the cafeteria and digging into his cheese burger and fries, looked up at the not-too-friendly tone of one huge first grader, Billy Dakin.

Billy sat opposite of Sam and out of nowhere his two best buds sat on either side of Billy. Neither one moved, just kept staring at each other, both ignoring the sudden quietness of the cafeteria as each child's movement stalled and breaths held for what they were anticipating. It was no secret that Billy and his goons never played fair, always wanting to be the bad guys they see on TV, but what caught their keen interest was what they were gonna do to the new kid. No one lasts long in the clutches of one Billy Dakin.

After eying Sam and deciding he wasn't much of a threat, Billy broke the silence, "I'm Billy, and this is Jake and Mike," he gestured to the two mean looking boys, "and you are on my turf. So it's my job to lay down some ground rules to the new kid –"

"Sorry Billy, I didn't see your name written on anywhere. Maybe you left your magic marker in the pocket of your other pants," Sam interrupted sarcastically, using some of his brother's snarky reply. He glowed somewhat knowing that Dean would be proud of him for standing up for himself.

The silence intensified, bringing with it a truckload of tension in the air. Still, nobody moved or made a sound.

Billy's brows went up at that as he was caught off guard by it. Maybe there's more to this little squirt than I thought, he mused. Quickly regaining his composure, he shot the kid a cocky grin, "That's pretty good there, Winchester. Tell you what, why don't you join us, eh? Come and eat lunch with us and we'll teach you everything we know."

Sam studied the spoiled, obnoxious kid before studying his goons, "Tell you what, Dakin, why don't you take yourself and take your goons with you too, and get out of my face? Because there is no way in hell I would ever want to 'join' your little gang." He hoped that just by adding in a cuss word into a sentence would make the first grader tremble with fear and leave him alone – something he had seen Dean do to every bully they came across with.

Jake and Mike instantly began cracking their knuckles and flexing what little muscle their seven-year-old bodies possessed menacingly while Billy stood up threateningly and glared at the youngest Winchester.

Sam swallowed, briefly wondering if he had gone too far, but remembering his brave older brother and how he always managed to look fear straight in the eye, – not to mention his own resolve of wanting to fight his own battles – he stood up too, mustered all his courage, and glared right back, all the while ignoring the little fact that Billy seemed to be twice his size.

It seemed to be a showdown as everybody in the cafeteria stood flabbergasted, subconsciously, unknowingly, inching slowly towards the small group, forming a circle big enough for a fight that was itching to start.

Sam wasn't ready for the punch that shot out from out of nowhere, connected with his nose and made the blood gush out as it ran down to his chin before getting collected by his shirt, but he managed to duck out of the way from another punch. He wasn't so lucky though his ribs collided with a strong kick. His mind screamed for Dean before letting the sweet allure of unconsciousness sweep him away in the midst of more punches and kicks.

********************************************************************************************************************

John returned from a three-hour trip to the next town over for more research on a potential hunt, but was dismayed when it turned up nothing more than one elderly woman's paranoia. He felt dirty, gritty and exhausted, and he was hoping to take a good long, hot shower and crawl beneath the covers for a good night's rest after he picked up his kids from school. Keep dreaming Winchester, he told himself as he caught sight of his firstborn, alone, looking clearly agitated. He frowned, worried, when he didn't see Sam with Dean. Calm down, he's just probably holed up in some book at the library. Or doing his homework. He's not kidnapped by a demon or some other kind of monster…

He kept up the tirade of reasonable explanations for his son's absence, but it didn't work when he pulled the Impala over, got out, slamming the car door carelessly, and called out to Dean, fear and panic plainly evident in his voice, "Dean, where's your brother?" Oh God, just please let him be in a library and not something's lunch. He lost one precious member of his family and he'll be dammed if he lost another one.

Dean had been thinking around the same lines when he didn't see his brother anywhere earlier on the school grounds. He even used the bathroom pass to check up on his little brother in his class, but his worry grew when he wasn't there. Later on when he caught word of a fight that broke out in the cafeteria between the 'new kid' and some pathetic wimp called Billy Dakin and his 'bodyguards', he ran towards the nurse's station hoping that Sam was there. He was not, leaving Dean in an almost panic state by the time school was out. So now what do I tell Dad? He thought as he stared up at his father.

"Dean, where's your brother?" John ordered when Dean hesitated.

"I-I don't know, sir," Dean answered lamely, looking everywhere else but at his father, "I haven't seen him since you dropped us off."

Gazing down at his son and seeing the tensed, attention posture his oldest had already developed, John finally noticed what Sam's absence was doing to Dean. Ever since Dean had been appointed as Sam's sole guardian when he was four and Sammy was just six months old, Dean had pretty much started feeling that keeping Sam safe was his responsibility and it was his fault if anything bad happened to him – something John wished he should've seen earlier, feeling that it was his fault for Dean turning out that way.

John softened a bit, "Why don't you go find your brother and I'll wait here?"

Dean turned startled, suspicious hazel green at John, "You sure?"

"Yeah Dean, I'm sure," John said with a small smile on his face.

Dean had seen a lot in his young life – including demons, and had known the signs of a demonic possession – so as he backed away from his father, he couldn't help but mutter out, "Christo."

John laughed, half amused and half proud that his son was smart enough to take precautionary measures before trusting anyone else.

Okay, Dad didn't flinch, he thought as he turned his attention back at the school, making a beeline for the teacher's lounge room. He wondered why his little brother would be hiding out in the lounge room but he somehow knew he was there.

The teacher's lounge room wasn't as shabby as the Winchesters' motel room – at least there weren't any visible holes on the walls, but the faded yellow sofas and orange chairs plus the awful green carpet made up for the lacking holes. There was a door at the other side that let out to the teacher's outdoor patio. A fence separated the patio from the rest of the school yard. Kids were seen playing as they waited to be picked up by their parents.

Dean saw something in the corner of his eye to his left and spotted his brother sitting on the ground, nursing his injuries and watching the kids play their games. Dean inhaled sharply at the scene before him.

Sam was sporting a black eye, what appeared to be a broken nose, a cut lip, and he seemed to be holding his ribs or cradling his arm – Dean couldn't tell which – and who knows what other bruises Sam might have underneath his shirt?

"Hey dude," Dean said softly as he sat down beside his brother. Sam flinched, causing Dean's worry to increase.

Sam, seeing the concern in Dean's eyes, reassured his brother, "It's okay, Dean. It's not as bad as it looks."

"Like hell, Sam. Who did this? Huh? Tell me who and I'll introduce him to my fist," Dean said viciously. No one does this to his little brother and get away with it!

"Dean, it's okay. Really, it is."

"Didn't anybody stop it? Did you go to the nurse?"

Sam flinched at his brother's tone, "The teachers here don't really care and besides, they don't have a nurse. The last one quit."

"What hurts?"

"Dean –"

"Sam. What hurts?"

"You're a pain, y'know that?"

"Takes one to know one," Dean threw back.

Sam huffed, "Besides my eye and nose…my ribs. They hurt like hell."

"Do they feel broken?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know what a broken rib feels like? I've never had a broken bone before."

"Well, we're gonna have to change that, don't we?" Dean said as he examined his brother's ribs.

"What? You're gonna break my arm so that I'll know what a broken bone feels like?" Sam almost whined. He hissed when Dean touched a sore spot.

"Hmm, they don't feel broken, just bruised –"

"Good to know then," Sam said sarcastically.

Dean ignored him, "What were you thinking going up someone twice your size?"

"So? I've fought you before and won –"

"That's only because I let you –"

"But you've gone up kids three times your size –"

"And that's only because I always know what I'm doing –"

"Whatever."

They stayed like that in silence for several more minutes, each lost in their own thoughts as they watched the school yard slowly empty of laughing children.

"You were right," Sam said softly, breaking the silence.

"Damn straight I am," Dean said, but when he couldn't figure out what Sam was talking about, he inquired, "Umm…about what?"

Sam drew his knees up and settled his chin on them, "There's us and then there's them. You, me, dad, that's all we've got. We have each other. We have each other's backs. We're in each other's corners. We understand each other, and we support each other. And them…we'll never get to have what they have. We'll always be outsiders. We'll always be freaks to them. They'll never understand us. It may be nice to have a friend once in a while, but you can't expect to find one in every school. They're not guaranteed. But family is, right? I mean, even though one of us might die, we're never truly gone, right? We'll remember each other, but with us moving all the time, who's to say that we'll be remembered by them? What I'm trying to say is that we have each other and that's all that should count. That's all that should matter. People come and go, but we'll still have one another."

When the hell did he get so damn smart? Dean marveled as he stared open-mouthed at his younger brother. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way," Dean said after he found his voice, putting his arm around Sam's shoulders.

"I'm not," Sam whispered, and before Dean knew it, Sam surprised him by giving him a fierce hug, "You won't leave me, right? You'll always have my back?"

Stunned, Dean did the only thing that came to mind: he hugged him back, "Nothing will ever keep me from leaving you – much less have your back." Pulling back, he said, "Now that the chick-flick of the day is over, how about we head on home? Or at least the crummy motel?"

"On one condition."

"What?"

"You'll help me plan my sweet revenge on Billy Dakin and his goons."

"Sounds good to me, 'cause that touchy-feeling crap you just said won't do much except ask for more," Dean said as he got up.

"Jerk," Sam said as he gingerly got up, happy that he'll have his big brother do all the fighting next time against the bullies.

"Bitch," Dean said, making Sam laugh and looping his arm around his shoulders as they walked towards the waiting Impala and a scowling John.

The End

how'd I do? please leave a review!! they're greatly appreciated as they are like food for the soul. Happy birthday hun! *hugs*