A/N: Sammy is five, Dean is ten. When I speak of school for Sam I mean kindergarten.

enjoy!

"Deeean!"

It was the kind of "Dean" that always made him want to hug his little brother, the one that came with big, teary eyes, and a quivering bottom lip.

"Dean, Mr Muffin is gone!" Sammy whimpered, "I can't sleep without him, Dean!"

"He is not gone, Sammy, you just can't find him, that's a big difference," Dean tried to reassure his shaken little brother. "When was the last time you saw him?"

Mr Muffin was a family heirloom. Dean had given the stuffed bunny (which was at that point still called Godzilla) to Sammy when he had turned six, and felt that he was now too old to own stuffed animals. Well, at least too old to own them in public, and nobody would ever know about the little well-worn teddy bear that he kept in his treasure chest under the loose floorboard in his and Sammy's room.

Sammy had loved his bunny rabbit ever since, especially because it was a gift from both his mommy and Dean, the two most super-special people in his life. Although the stuffed bunny had been loved almost to death by now, Dean knew that his little brother wouldn't trade it for the shiniest, newest toy in the world.

Dean still thought that it was kind of embarrassing for Sammy to take his stuffed animal to school everyday, but a big brother was a big brother, and he wouldn't let anyone give Sammy grief over it.

"Well," Sammy finally sniffled, "He ate breakfast with us this morning, and then I took him to school with me. I still had him in math class, and then I put him into my cubby for gym class, and ... oh ..." The shock was evident on the face of the youngest Winchester, the crocodile's tears running for real now.

"I left Mr Muffin in my cubby, Dean!" Sammy wailed, "I left him there all by himself... Dean, what if somebody steals him?"

All the while, Dean was feverishly thinking about the best course of action in this situation. He knew form experience that distraction wasn't going to work, which meant that he was going to have to try to convince him.

"Nobody is gonna take Mr Muffin away from you, Sammy," he said convincingly. "Think about it, who is the only one, who gets to go into the school house after classes are over?"

"Mr J-jenks? The j-janitor?"

"See? And you like Mr Jenks, right?"

Sammy nodded hesitantly.

"And Mr Jenks likes you too, right? Remember how he helped you to fix Mr Muffin's ear?"

Sammy's nod was a little more pronounced this time.

"Well, Mr Jenks is going to lock all the doors and windows real tight tonight, and Mr Muffin will be all safe and warm in your cubby."

"But Deeen," Sammy whined, "What if there's burglars?"

At that, Dean looked a little incredulous. "What burglar in their right mind would want to break into a school out of all places, Sammy? And besides, nobody knows that Mr Muffin is still there. How about we set my alarm clock right now, and get up real early tomorrow morning? That way we can be the first kids at school, and nobody can get to your cubby before us."

There was nothing that Dean wouldn't do for his little brother, although he was probably going to hide in the bathroom until the first bell rang - it would certainly not do his reputation any good to be seen at school early.

"O-okay," Sammy sniffled. "But I'm gonna be really lonely tonight, and afraid, and..."

"Alright, alright," Dean gave a deep sigh, "You can sleep in my bed tonight."

At that, Sammy threw himself at his older brother, and clamped his little arms around his torso in a fierce hug. Dean patted Sammy's head and added indignantly "Only this one time, Sammy. And you're gonna have to keep those naked icicles you call feet to yourself!"

Sammy hugged his brother even tighter. "You're the bestest brother in the world, Dean" he whispered into the older boy's pajamas.

Of course Sammy squeezed his icy feet right between Dean's legs that night, and of course Dean couldn't bring himself to stop him from doing so. The soft smile on Sammy's sleeping face and the happy, relieved giggles when they found Mr Muffin unharmed the next morning made up for all his troubles, even for the laughter of his classmates when they found out about Dean hugging his little brother and worrying about a stuffed animal from a boy that had happened to be there early. Which - of course - didn't mean that he wasn't going to get back at them for it...

two weeks later

Sammy sat in the hospital waiting room anxiously, watching his father pace holes into the shiny linoleum. His Dad had told him to sit still and wait, and he had, although he hated it when his feet could't reach the floor.

"Dad," he asked quietly, "Is Dean gonna be okay?"

"Of course he's gonna be fine squirt," came the expected answer.

But why was daddy pacing around so nervously when everything was going to be okay? Sammy really rather wanted to hear it from Dean himself.

"How long is it gonna take, Dad?" he inquired just as quietly as before.

"I don't know, Sammy. Not long." His dad looked kind of impatient now, so Sammy figured that it would be better to just sit still, be quiet and wait for the doctors to be done.

The youngest Winchester knew that it was really getting late, but he wasn't one bit tired. Everything had just been too exciting for him today.

Earlier that evening, Daddy had told them that he was going to go hunting for a spirit, and because that particular spirit wasn't dangerous, but just lost, he was going to take Dean along with him this time. Dean had been really excited to go, so Sammy was sure that hunting for lost spirits must be great fun. Although, just how a spirit could get lost was beyond Sammy, but he hadn't dared to ask. Keys could get lost, and toy cars, yes - but spirits? He would have to ask Dean once he was better.

Anyways, Dean and Dad had packed their stuff, and the three of them had gotten into the car - Dean and Dad to 'off' the lost spirit, and Sammy because he wasn't old enough yet to stay at home alone.

When they had arrived at the house with the spirit inside, Dad and Dean had gotten a bottle of smelly stuff, and a gun that was loaded with rock salt out of the trunk. Sammy had been very curious about how you were supposed to kill a ghost with salt, but again, he hadn't dared to ask. Dean always said that Sammy couldn't have too much salt, because it wasn't good for little children (hmpf - little!), maybe it wasn't good for spirits, either.

Sammy and Mr Muffin had had to stay behind in the car all by themselves, which was kind of scary. Sammy had locked all the doors as soon as Dean and his Daddy had left. He was still thankful that Dean had left him his jean jacket to snuggle up in. He was still wearing it now, and although it was too big for him, it made him feel comfy and safe. Thinking about it, it occurred to Sammy that it hadn't actually been all that warm outside, but Dean had said that he was hot, and who was he to doubt his older brother?

The long hand of the clock in the car had gone around almost one whole time before Dean and Daddy had returned, and when they had, Dean's head had been bleeding, and he had been cradling his arm to his chest painfully. Obviously even lost spirits could push boys down the stairs. Maybe the spirit hadn't been that lost after all.

Dean had said that it didn't hurt, but Sammy wasn't stupid. He'd seen the tears in Dean's eyes, and he knew that it had to be really bad for his big brother to cry.

So Sammy had quietly sat next to Dean in the car, not knowing what to do. He had wanted to give his brother a band-aid, because that was what Dean always did, but he hadn't had any with him, and he didn't know if there was a band-aid big enough for that much blood anyways. And besides, it would be really ouchie to pull it off afterward, with all that hair in the way.

And now they were here at the hospital, and all Sammy could do was to sit in his chair, nose all scrunched up in confusion, and feet dangling back and forth impatiently.

When the long hand of the clock in the waiting area had gone around a little bit more than half the way, a doctor with grey hair and a white coat came through the big doors and walked towards his Daddy. How the doctors always managed to keep their coats so clean was a mystery to Sammy, his clothes never stayed clean for more than two hours. Maybe it was because they were growmups. But then again, his Daddy was a growmup too, and his clothes weren't really clean most of the time, either.

The doctor began to talk to his Dad quietly, but Dean always said that Sammy had good ears, and he could understand most of what was spoken between the two adults.

"Your son's arm is broken," the doctor said, "But it was a clean break, and one of the nurses is fitting him a cast as we speak. He is going to have to wear the cast and be careful about it for a few weeks, but afterward he is going to be just fine. He needed three stitches for his head wound, but the bleeding has stopped, and that too should be just fine within a couple of weeks. What does worry me, though, is the concussion that Dean suffered, and if it is possible for you, I would very much like to keep him here overnight for observation."

Con-cu-shion. That was a big word, but fortunately Sammy liked big words, and even knew what this one meant. Con-cu-shion was, when your head got shaken up really badly, hand it gave you a big headache. At least that was how Dean had explained it to him the last time he'd had one. The big words were actually one of the very few things aside from lollipops that Sammy liked about doctors offices. His favorite one was ste-thos-cope. Dean had had to say it many, many times, until Sammy had been able to repeat it correctly, and he was very proud that he had mastered it. Right now though, Sammy mostly felt bad for his brother. To have an ouchie arm, an ouchie head and to have to stay at the hospital all night, that was really hard. Poor Dean.

His Daddy frowned at the doctor's statement, but after a slight pause he said "Well if it is really necessary for him to stay, I don't want to take any risk. We will have to manage. Can we see him now?"

"Of course. The cast should be done in just a few minutes, the nurse will bring Dean to his room to rest right afterward. It is room 212, you just take a right off this corridor, the door will be to your left."

Sammy eyed the cast suspiciously. "Does it hurt a lot?" he asked empathetically.

"Nah," Dean replied casually. "They gave me some pills, I don't feel a thing. And you know what?"

"What, Dean?"

"When we get home tonight, you get to write your name on it. What do you think, huh?"

"But Dean, the doctor said -"

"Sammy, go sit on that chair in the corner over there, will you?" his Dad interrupted him.

Sammy hung his head, and trotted over to his designated chair, Mr Muffin hugged to his chest tightly for comfort.

"What did the doctor say, Dad?" Dean asked, and if Sammy hadn't known better, he would have thought that his big brother was scared.

"Dean, calm down," Dad said in his no-nonsense-voice. "The doctor said that you have a concussion, you know what that is, right?"

Dean nodded defiantly.

"Well then you know that it cam be very dangerous, and that is why the doctor wants to keep you here for the night for obs-"

"Dad, no, I'm fine, I wanna come home with you and Sammy tonight!" Dean sounded very upset, maybe he really was a little afraid to stay at the hospital all by himself. Sammy surely would be, if he were in Dean's position.

"Dean Winchester!" Their Dad ground out, "This is not a discussion. You will stay here tonight, and you will be a man about it. Understand?" Sammy cringed. That was really not a very nice thing for their Dad to do. Dean was hurt and sick after all.

But Dean seemed to know that he didn't stand a chance, and that arguing would only serve to make matters worse. So he obediently said "Yes, Sir," and hung his head in defeat.

"Visiting hours are over already, and it is time for you and Sammy to catch some shut-eye. We'll come and pick you up first thing tomorrow morning. Good night, son." With that, John Winchester patted his eldest son's head, and turned to his youngest to leave. "Come on Sammy, we'll be back tomorrow.

Sammy got up from his chair in the corner, and shot Dean an apologetic look before following his Dad out the door. The look on his older brother's face made his tummy all achy, Dean was being really brave, but he also looked sad, and the thought of Dean in a scary hospital room all by himself for a whole night made Sammy's decision final. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at his Dad with big eyes.

"What is it now, Sammy," his Dad asked impatiently, "Cause I'm really not in the mood for childish games right now."

"I'll be right back, Daddy," Sammy whispered, and without waiting for an answer he ran straight back to Dean's room.

Dean looked at him in surprise when he entered the room, and quickly wiped a few stray tears from his eyes.

"Sammy, what are you doing here? Where's Dad?"

Sammy didn't say a thing, but instead, after a little moment of hesitation, shoved Mr Muffin into Dean's good arm, a tear splashing to the ground from his eyes now too.

"But, Sammy - why are you ... "

"So you don't have to be all alone tonight," Sammy cried.

Dean could hardly hold back his tears at Sammy's gesture, the offer alone meant so much to him. He knew just how important the stuffed animal was to his little brother. "Thank you Sammy. You're really the best little brother anyone could ever wish for, but you really don't have to -"

"But I want to, Dean," Sammy defiantly blurted through his tears, and with a final sob he ran out the door, and past his father to the elevators.

That night, when Dean lay in his bed bed in the dark hospital room, he had to admit to himself (and most certainly not to anyone else) that the stuffed rabbit in his arms really did give him some solace, because as cheesy as it may sound, it showed him how much he was loved by the one person that truly mattered to him.

At the same time, Sammy lay curled up in Dean's bed, and he, too, found solace in the fact, that his brother didn't have to be alone in a scary hospital room, and fell asleep with the knowledge that Mr Muffin would be just as safe with Dean as Dean was with Mr Muffin.

And both both boys instinctively knew that no hard time or obstacle in their lives could ever be too bad, as long as they had each other.

the happy end

A/N:cheesy, I know, but I couldn't help myself. So what do you think? This is only my second fanfic ever, both wee!chesters, and I for my part think that this one is better than the last.

What do you think? I know that I am still far away from actually being good, but I like to kid myself into thinking, that I am able to improve. So please, tell me what your opinion is. I would love to hear what you liked, but constructive criticism is just as welcome, because that way I will know, what to do better next time. If you find any mistakes, please point them out to me, I will fix them right away. Whatever you do, please be aware that I am not a native speaker, and that I am still in the process of learning the language.

Thank you so much for reading to the end, it means a lot to me.

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