Disclaimer: Sam and Dean don't belong to me. Even little Sam and Dean.

I wrote this story out a long time ago. I just kept forgetting to post it. Here's the first chapter. Sam is 9 and Dean is 13.


Dean looked around the corner. No one was coming.

"Dean?" Sam said.

"Quiet," He whispered. He grabbed Sam's hand and tiptoed down the hallway.

"Big brother…"

"What?!" Dean said.

"I don't wanna leave."

Dean stopped in his tracks, turned around, and knelt next to Sam. He placed his hand on his shoulder and thought, We can't stay here. It's too dangerous. We'll get caught too easily. Sam looked directly into Dean's eyes and whispered, "I like it better when you talk." Dean smiled and thought I'm just trying to keep the noise to a minimum.

Dean stood up, grabbed Sam's hand, and continued down the hallway. When they reached the entrance of the orphanage Sam said, "Why can't we just go back to Dad's 'stead of wandering?"

You know why, Sammy.

"Maybe Dad'll change his mind and like us again."

Dean held his tears back. "Sam," he said out loud, "Dad never did like us. Ever since Mom... He's never like either of us." Sam bit his lip. Dean could tell he was trying not to cry. "We'll find a place to live."

"You don't think so," Sam stated.

Dean sighed. "I really shouldn't touch you when I'm trying to convince you of something."

"No," Sam said, "You should really say what's on your mind because I'll know anyway."

"We just need to get out of here. It's hard to keep you from touching other people and I don't want to lose control here."

Sam started to sob. "I know you want to do what's best, but I don't wanna!" Sam looked at the ground and whispered, "I'm scared."

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam in an embrace as he said, "I am, too. But like you said, I'm trying to do what's best."

Sam took a few breaths and his crying ceased. "Okay."


It was raining. The drops of water softly tapped the tent that sheltered the crowd. They were wearing black. It was the eight year anniversary of Mary Winchester's death. John Winchester knelt sadly in front of the tombstone. His sons, Sam and Dean Winchester stood several feet away, not allowed to go near their mother's grave. John finally stood and started to leave. Giving his sons an ugly look, he grabbed their arms harshly and led them back to the Impala.


The doorbell rang. John opened it and greeted a business-like woman at the door. Dean and Sam watched through the crack of their bedroom door. John and the woman said a few words, and then went to the kitchen. Sam tugged on his brother's shirt.

"What?"

"I touched Dad earlier…"

Dean gave Sam an inquiring look. "And? What did you see?"

Sam seemed to think about it for a second. Then said, "Dad's giving us away."


"What kind of father are you!?" Dean yelled.

"Dean, calm down," the lady from the orphanage said.

Dean held his sobbing brother tightly as men tried to pull them into the car.

"Get your hands off of us!" Dean screamed. He tried to calm himself down. In the back of his mind he knew that if he didn't, he'd regret it. But he was so angry... He felt his shirt stretch across his back. He felt his skin go smooth. He felt his arms start to change…

Suddenly, one of the men slapped his hand across Dean's mouth. Everything started to fade, as though his senses were being blocked. Chloroform?


"Where's Sam!?"

Dean tried to get out of bed but the orphanage workers wouldn't let him. "Dean, I already told you," the orphanage lady said. "He's with the other children that are his own age."

"Let me see him! He's my brother and you have no right to keep me from seeing him!"

"In a little while. I want the effects of the chloroform to completely wear off…"


Dean looked around the playground. Twenty kids or so about 7 to 9 years of age were running around. Dean hurriedly looked for his baby brother

He found Sam curled up, hiding behind a thorn bush. He was leaning heavily against the wall of the orphanage, trying to make himself as small as possible. He was rocking himself and sobbing uncontrollably. Dean could barely hear his soft whimpers. He kneeled next to Sam and put his hand on his shoulder. Sam slapped his hand away in a panic. "Sammy! It's me…It's me…"

Sam looked up at him with his tear stained face. "Dean?"

Dean wrapped his arms around him and said, "Its okay now, Sammy." He could feel Sam trembling violently in his arms. Tears streamed down his face. "He won't stop hitting her…" Sam said in a panic. "It hurts so much…she doesn't know what to do…"

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean insisted. He didn't know what Sam was talking about, but he had a guess. "She's here now. She doesn't live with her father anymore. She's here at the orphanage, like we are."

Sam's trembling eventually started to cease. He kept crying as he burrowed himself deeper into his big brother. Dean sat on the ground as he held Sam tightly. This was their sanctuary. Behind the thorn bush, out of anyone's sight.


Hope you enjoyed! Criticism is loved! Bad stuff, good stuff, let me know all your thoughts! Even if those thoughts are 'God, this story sucks!'