Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor anything related to Supernatural belongs to me. I'm just having some fun with the boys, playing around with Eric Kripke's sandbox.

ONCE A BIG BROTHER

By: Vanessa Sgroi

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Dean drove into the night, putting some distance between Plucky Pennywhistle's and Sam's childhood torment. Sam sat next to him, twitchy and taut, the finger of his right hand drumming relentlessly on his right knee. The elder Winchester bit his bottom lip, stifling the urge to chuckle yet again at the glitter that still sparkled across Sam's torso and back not to mention throughout his hair.

Shifting in his seat, Dean again felt a twinge of regret for his earlier laughter. "You doin' okay?" he queried with an accompanying sidelong glance.

Grazing a thumb along his sore jaw, Sam sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm doing all right." The tension radiating off the younger man belied his words, but Dean chose to let it go for the moment.

Deciding eventually that they were far enough away from the maniacal and murderous machinations at the children's entertainment emporium, Dean began his search for a squatters haven so they could both get some rest. After awhile, persistence paid off as he spotted a secluded farmhouse with a big, dilapidated foreclosure sign planted near the front stoop.

"Yahtzee!" With a smile, he turned into the driveway.

Quickly parking, Dean slid from the car and grabbed their bags from the trunk and fell in behind Sam who was heading toward the door while pulling lock picks from his pocket. Dislodged squares of multi-colored glitter drifted to the ground like so many breadcrumbs for the older hunter to follow.

"Hurry up, Sammy. I wanna get inside so we can play with my giant slinky."

Sam stopped dead in his tracks, spinning to face Dean, arms akimbo. "Dude, seriously—that sounded wrong—so, so wrong. Never say that again."

Dean snorted, rolled his eyes. "Pervy much?" he joked. Making an impatient gesture with his hand, Dean muttered, "C'mon, slowpoke."

Once inside, Dean abandoned the bags in the empty living room, eyes locked, wide and wondrous, on the wooden staircase just inside the door. "Perfect!" After shrugging out of his coat, he tore into the net bag holding the neon-colored Slinky. Hurrying up to the top of the stairs, the hunter instantly set the toy in motion, mesmerized by its lurching descent.

Sam, who was more interested in exploring the upper regions of their temporary dwelling and finding a place to sleep, stepped over the toy on his way upstairs carrying his duffel and sleeping bag. "I'm gonna check out the shower and hit the sack."

Jogging down the steps, Dean retrieved the Slinky. He waggled the toy at Sam. "Aw, c'mon, Sam. Stay here and have a little fun first."

The younger Winchester was about to protest when he caught the delight on Dean's face. Suddenly unable to resist such a rare expression of joy, Sam caved, chucked the duffel and sleeping bag over the railing, and joined his brother in a little fun.

SPN ** SPN ** SPN

More than an hour later in one of the upstairs bedrooms, Sam spread out his sleeping bag. Post-adrenalin fatigue was pulling hard at his limbs, especially after the warm shower he'd coaxed out of the old bathroom. Yawning, he rubbed at his gritty eyes and was just about to lie down when Dean walked into the room. His eyebrows rose questioningly when Dean proceeded to spread out his own bedroll on the other side of the room.

"What are you doing in here? I thought you were using one of the other rooms down the hall."

"Nah. It's…uhh…warmer in here. And…uh…carpeted. You know—more comfortable."

Though puzzled by the comment, Sam decided he was simply too tired to argue. Shrugging, he climbed inside is sleeping bag with a muffled grunt. "'kay. G'night."

"'night." Dean turned down the lamp and settled in. With an arm thrown over his eyes, he listened for Sam's breathing to even out and deepen as he fell into slumber. Once he heard the first soft snore, Dean glanced at his watch. He knew how long it would take—remembered from all those years ago exactly how long it would take for the clown-filled and fueled nightmares to begin. It was like clockwork, no matter what Sam's age.

He waited pensively in the quiet darkness.

Then as if on cue, the first nightmare started. And, as always, big brother was there to fend them off.

Once a big brother, always a big brother.

FIN