Ch. 1

Ok this idea wouldn't leave me alone so I thought maybe if I gave it life it would leave me alone for a little while so I can work on my other story Their Turn. If I can find my notebook were I started writing the next

I'm not sure yet if this is going to be a Brotherhood story or not. It could morph into one later on.

I don't own them. I tried wishing on a star I'm still waiting.

Not making any money.

Unbeta'd all mistakes belong to yours truly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean slowly became aware of something shivering against his back. Peeling his eyes open and rolling over he found his eight year old brother a huddled shivering mass lying against him.

"Sammy what's wrong?" The older brother was wide awake and his big brother senses were tingling.

"I don't feel good Dean."

"Close you're eyes Sammy I'm going to turn on the lamp." Dean rolled over and reached for the lamp. "Ready Sammy?"

"Uhuh" The youngest Winchester had his eyes squeezed closed as Dean turned on the lamp.

Dean blinked a few times trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness, before turning to look at his brother.

Sam was as white as the walls in the bedroom of the apartment they were currently staying in. Except for the splash of red going across his cheeks indicating he was running a fever.

"Stay here while I get the thermometer."

Dean pulled his duffle out of the closet rifling through it he pulled out the small first aid kit that pastor Jim had given him. His dad still didn't know about the kit and Dean had no intention of telling him. It was a shoe box covered in white paper with red crosses drawn on the top and all four sides. The words first aid kit were written on the top in Sam's neat handwriting. The kindly pastor had stocked the box with a variety of gauze pads, ace bandages, band aides with and without cartoon characters, antibiotic ointment, a thermometer, and children's Tylenol.

"Open up kiddo." Dean slid the thermometer easily under his brother's tongue.

When the instrument beeped Dean removed it his face pulling down in a frown when he read the results.

"Damn 102 that's too high chew a couple of these," Dean said, as he handed his brother two chewable tablets.

"Where do you hurt?"

"My head and face are going to explode."

"If your head goes first it'll take your face with it."

Sam glared at his brother.

"I want daddy." Dean couldn't help the twinge of jealousy he felt when Sam asks for their dad.

"Dad'll be home be this weekend."

John had left two days ago to hunt a wendigo two towns over and had promised to be home no later than Saturday.

"Where are you going?" The shaggy haired boy asked.

"I'm going to get a wet wash cloth. I'll be right back."

Dean climbed back into the bed and put the cloth on his brother's forehead.

Sam rested his head on Dean's chest.

"Try to go back to sleep Sammy you need to rest." Lovingly Dean brushed the sweaty hair off of his baby brother's forehead.

The twelve year old laid in the bed making up a plan for the rest of the day. Dean had seen signs up for a free clinic that was twelve blocks away posted up around the neighborhood. They'd have to take the bus normally they'd walk but Dean wasn't going to make Sammy walk since he was sick. It was only five o'clock in the morning so they'd have to wait a few hours. He thought about the three hundred dollars he had won playing poker with the kids from the rich high school in the last town they stayed in. Something else his dad didn't know about Dean justified the secrets by telling himself that the first aid kit and the money were for Sammy not him. In case Sam got sick like now or their dad was gone sometime and the rent was due or they needed groceries. Dean knew he could make due on the streets or he could go hungry for a couple of days but there was no way in hell he would allow Sammy to endure any of those hardships. Settling in for a long wait Dean continued to stroke Sammy's hair.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean woke up three hours later with a heavy feeling on his chest. Looking he saw the top of a shaggy sleep tousled head. Glancing at the clock he saw that three hours had passed.

'I'll wash up then I'll fix breakfast before I wake Sammy up.'

As Dean tried to slip out from underneath his sleeping brother without waking him blue-green flecked hazel eye's blinked up at him.

"What'cha doing?"

"I'm going to shower and fix you some breakfast I'll wake you when it's ready."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something."

After a quick shower Dean went into the kitchen to find something for his brother for breakfast. The content of their cabinets was meager. After a few minutes thought Dean put the last two slices of bread in the toaster for his baby brother. When the toast was ready Dean spread a thin layer of jelly on it fixed a glass of milk and carried breakfast in to the bedroom.

"Sammy, hey come on Sammy boy it's time to wake up." Sam groaned and rolled over towards Dean's voice.

"Here you go buddy eat the toast and then you can get washed up so you can go to the doctor."

"My throat hurts I don't want to eat and I don't want to go to the doctor." Tears swelled up in the large eyes.

"Oh Sammy." Dean slid back into the bed and wrapped his arm around the eight year olds slender shoulders. The little boy responded by snuggling tight up against his brother.

After a few minutes of negotiations Sammy agreed to drink his milk and brush his teeth. But refused to eat his toast or take a shower.

Dean was just finishing the toast Sam wouldn't eat when the eight year old came back into the room still whining about having to go to the doctor. Dean quickly shoved something in his pocket.

"Your clothes are on your bed, Sammy."

"What are you doing Dean?"

"Nothing just hurry up and get dressed. We have to catch the bus down town."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean grips Sam's hand tightly as they enter the free clinic. Looking around the clinic Dean wonders if he has made a mistake bringing Sammy here.

There's a guy sitting in the corner trying to hide what Dean his pretty sure is a gunshot wound. A young woman sitting in the middle of the room has a black eye, a busted lip and is cradling her left arm to her chest. By the way she's dressed the oldest brother is pretty sure she's a hooker. A little girl about Sammy's age is sitting next to what looks like her grandmother. Her right knee is swollen and angry looking. Pus is oozing from several long deep scratches. A boy who looks the same age as Dean is sitting with his foot propped up on a chair and Dean is pretty sure that a foot isn't suppose to turn that way. Several other people are sitting around with less obvious aliments.

Taking a deep breath Dean walks up to the check in desk pulling Sam with him.

What do you think should I keep going or just scrape it? Don't forget to feed the monkeys on your way out.