I wrote this story back in 2010, and am coming back to essentially do a re-write of it!

Dean is 19 and Sam is 15.

'"God I am so tired of leaving right when things start feeling normal" Sam huffed out loud to himself while walking home from his fifth school of the year and it was only December. Sam continued walking pulling his jacket tighter around his slim frame, trying to contain as much heat as the old thrift store jacket allowed. These Minnesota winters were no joke and right now Sam wished he had put extra layers on this morning.

Sam knew he had to get home and pack since his dad and brother would be home from their latest hunt to pick him up and move on to the next town that needed saving.

He thought he could actually feel his bones freezing in the 5-degree weather. Looking down the street Sam sighed when he realized he still had several blocks until their motel. Looking around Sam remembered the shortcut he took with his friend Liam the other day. "Perfect" he muttered, anything to save him a few minutes in this crappy weather.

Turing the corner he was slapped with a gust of wind that whipped his hat off, bending down to pick it up and brush off the dusting of snow it collected is when he felt a white-hot pain in his chest and fell to his knees in the snow. At first, Sam was confused. Why was he falling? Why was he in so much pain? Sam first noticed the blood staining the fresh snow, his gaze followed to his chest where he quickly pieced together that he had been shot.

Sam tried getting up only to have pain echoed through his body, cussing to himself he half-fell half-sat back down. He knew he needed to move, with how cold it was and how quickly he was bleeding he knew he didn't have long. But, only a few minutes couldn't hurt? could it? He was so damn tired. Sam's body was drained of its strength as he allowed his head to fall back into the snow but at the moment it felt more like a pillow.

Dean didn't think his smile could get any wider, after what felt like hours of chasing that damn werewolf they finally got the drop on him. His father had delivered the killing blow and that only meant one thing to Dean. Food and getting back to Sam. Right as the thought entered his head his stomach groweled as if on que.

"On our way to the diner, Ill call Sam and let him know were heading home," Dean said while putting their weapons back into their trunk. He pulled out his phone started dialing Sam's number, only to reach voice mail. He tried two more times both getting voicemail.

"John looked at his oldest son and knew his big brother intuition was going off. "What's up Dean?" Flipping the phone closed Dean glanced up at his father "I tried him three times and every time it rings to voicemail".

"Maybe he's just in the shower or busy packing"

"Yeah, maybe..." But Dean couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

They pull up to the nearest diner for a quick dinner before hitting the road. John glances at his son and already knows what's going through his mind.

"I don't know dad, he isn't answering his phone and Sam always answers"

"I'm sure its fine but we can get our burgers to-go so we can get back sooner"

Dean let out a small sigh.

The two oldest Winchester's pulled into the driveway and Dean nearly stumbled out of the car when he got out, he was in such a hurry to check on Sam.

"Sam, you home?" Dean yelled when he reached the doorway. No response.

"Dammit, Sammy answer me" Dean yelled while searching the house, but still no sign of Sam.

"Is he here?" John questioned while holding the duffle bags that he had grabbed from the trunk.

"No something is wrong," Dean said while grabbing the keys, he was out the door and jumping in the driver's seat of the Impala before his dad even had time to put the duffles away. John quickly righted himself and hopped in his own truck to follow his eldest. "You better be alright Sam" John whispered to no one in particular.

Thirty minutes later and they still had no luck, Dean drove the path from the school to the motel twice and saw no trace of Sam. In full panic mode, Dean pulled over and watched as his dad followed suit. "Shit!"

"Dean, is it possible he went to a friends house or stayed late at school?" John tried his hardest to remain calm for his eldest but he was just as worried as Dean because this wasn't like Sam.

"No, I talked to him during fifth-period study hall and he told me he was going right home to pack after school"

"Well, what if he took a different path home or something?"

"Follow me!" Dean raced back to the Impala, his dad mentioning a different route reminded him Sam was talking about a shortcut his friend had shown him.

Just as Dean started to pull out something caught his eye, a piece of blue fabric barely visible with the amount of snow covering it. It dawned on Dean that was Sam's hat, he told him to wear it this morning because it was basically going to be a winter tundra today.

The Impala came to a shrieking stop and the truck nearly rear-ended him, Dean ran over and picked up the blue hat as he turned to his dad and explained-

"I made Sam where this today because it had gotten so cold" Dean explained.

"Ok, why don't we go the way he would of if he was taking the shortcut," John said while trying to put on a strong face for Dean.

Dean had only gotten twenty feet when he stopped and pointed to the red trail that looked just like blood.

The two hunters broke into a run following the blood trail when Dean saw the brown shaggy hair covered in a white dusting of fresh snowfall.

"Sammy!" He yelled while running to Sam's side.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god" Dean frantically whispered while he looked over his brother's pale body. Dean quickly found the source of the blood and became more concerned when he realized Sam was no longer bleeding because his body was so cold. Without saying a word Dean picked Sam up as if the kid weighed 5 pounds and began heading back towards the heat of the Impala. John opened the back door knowing his eldest wasn't going to let go of his brother anytime soon.

Dean slid into the back seat, never breaking his hold on Sam.

Five hours later and they were still sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chairs. Five hours Sam was pulled behind those double doors. Five hours and still no word on how Sam was doing.

"Family of Samuel Morgan" a doctor announced while looking at his clipboard.

"That's us! How is he?" Dean half shouted at the doctor. He was impatient and wanted answers now.

"Samuel suffered fro-" The doctor was cut off by Dean.

"It's Sam" Dean snapped at the doctor; the doctor smiled and continued "Sam suffered from a gunshot wound in his chest that nicked an artery which is why he had bled so much. Sam lost a lot of blood but with the surgery, we were able to repair the artery and we have him on blood transfusions and antibiotics to help prevent from any infections."

Dean felt like he was gonna pass out when John spoke up, "When can we see Sam?"

"We are bringing him down to his room right now and I will have a nurse bring you up there in about 10 minutes after they get him settled" The doctor shook hands with Dean and John before leaving to go check on another patient.

It was going to be a long night. Since they were told that Sam probably wouldn't be awake for several hours as the anesthesia wore off.

"Sammy I-if you ever do something like this again I will kick your ass my self, you hear me?" Dean tried to lighten the mood but simply held his brother's limp hand and rested his head on the hospital bed.

John sat next to his youngest hospital bed and wondered where he went wrong.

So more chapters to go but I decided to leave it at that for the first chapter tell me how it was!