Lessons

Dean and John teach little Sammy a lesson and it carries on into adulthood. Set pre-series. No win-cest, though it is a Death!fic- warning. This is my attempt at Wee!Chester, please let me know if its okay. Rated for swearing.

Sam silently rounded the corner being careful to breathe as quietly as possible abnd to keep hi neatrbeat under control, remembering what his father had taught him all thise years ago, before he had left. Sam ran his thumb along the barrel of the loaded gun in his hand and kept creeping forward, looking around him to make sure that no one could jump him.

Crash.

Sam flicked the safety off at the sound of something crashing to the floor in the room opposite him. Sam paused, listening, remembering.

"Okay, Sammy, remember what I taught you?" John watched as his youngest boy concentrated.

"Shoot first, ask questions later." Sammy looked to Dean for confirmation. Dean nodded almost imperceptibly. Sammy looked back at John, to see him glance at Dean. Dean just looked back at him with a slight smile on his face, knowing that Sammy had gotten it right. John looked back Sammy.

"Good job, Sammy. Always remember that. And never hesitate. That one second could cost ya your life. Never forget what I teach you, full stop." Sammy nodded, not quite understanding the need to remember. John left the motel room, locking the door behind him.

"He's right, ya know. Never hesitate." Sammy looked at Dean, brow creased in confusion.

"Sometimes its good to hesitate. Get the whole story." Dean just shook his head.

There was a slight moan from the other sound of the door as Sam drew in a breath, hoping against hope that whatever was behind the door was human and not supernatural. He was done with that, and hunting. He looked at the gun, a precaution. That's all. Better to be safe than sorry. Sam went forward and opened the door, gun raised. He lowered the gun slightly when he saw the t.v on, a Wild West movie. Probably has Clint Eastwood in it, Sam thought to himself, smiling as he realised that Dean would have known the movie just from the sounds. Sam checked the other rooms to be sure. Nothing. Smiling to himself again he left the room, closing the door. As he walked back to his room, he started to remember again.

Sammy and Dean were watching the television without really watching. They were boh wrapped up in their own thoughts. Dean worrying about Sammy and his Dad, with no thought as to his own safety. Sammy going over everything about their lives. He decided it was time to bring it up with Dean again.

"Dean? Can I ask you something?" Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. Sammy took a breath. "Is Dad ever wrong?" Dean whipped his head around to look Sammy fully in the face, trying to determine if he was kidding. He wasn't.

"No, Sammy. Dad's never wrong."

"I think he is." Dean sighed, closing his eyes wishing that he was anywhere else and hoping that Sammy wouldn't elaborate. "We should ask questions first." Damn.

"No, Sam, we shouldn't." Sammy looked like he was going to ask 'why'. Dean cut in. "Because not everything answers and lots of things that would try to hurt us can't speak properly anyway." Sammy looked satisfied with that answer. Dean prided himself on being able to make Sammy believe anything he said. Although it was begining to happen less frequently and he didn't like it.

"Dean, can you teach me something that Dad hasn't taught me yet?"

"Like what?" Sammy was silent. Dean looked over and saw Sammy looking sheepish. Very unusual. "Sammy, you o.k?"

"Yeah. Teach me how to creep."

"What?"

"You're always creeping away. You hide and I can't find you, and sometimes Dad can't either. Teach me to do that." Dean smiled. That was a useful skill.

"Sure thing. We'll start now."

Sam shook his head to get rid of the memory. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his pyjama pants and opened the door to the flat that he shared with Jessica, the love of his life. He crept to the chest that lay open on the kitchen tagble and, after flicking the safety on, tucked the gun inside, locked the box and put it back in its hiding place. He silently found his way back into the bedroom and slid in next to Jess and breathed a sigh of relief as he relaxed. He closed his eyes and hoped the memories would stay at bay. His wish was granted. Inside he dreamed of peace and a life without hunting, without pain. A life with Jess and normality.

The door opened with only a slight creak. Sammy crept into the room, looking for Dean. They were playing hide-and-seek, had been since the morning, since Dean had taught him to creep and find hidden thing in the dark. This was the first time that Sammy was seeking and Dean was hiding. Until an hour or so ago, Sammy had been hiding and Dean seeking. Sammy had remained hidden for almost three hours, folded into the back corner of the pantry, on the bottom shelf, behind tins of food. They had had breakfast, the usual Lucky Charms, and then Dean had hid. Now Sammy was seeking, or as Dean called it, hunting. Sammy opened the door to the cupboard quickly and found Dean virtually straight away.

"Gotcha, Dean!" Dean looked around and smiled.

"Thank God for that, Sammy, it was starting to get kinda cramped in here." Dean un-folded himself and climbed down. "I think that's enough for now. You did really good, Sammy. I didn't even hear you open the door, and the door creaks!" Sammy grinned, happy beyond belief.

"I did what you said! I opened it quickly and I stuck to the walls 'cause of the creaky floorboards." Dean ruffled his hair, knowing that these skills would stay with Sammy forever, no matter what happened. Ha had taught Sammy something that their Dad could never hane taught him. And that was his memory, his achievment.

Sam was content, happy, peaceful. Everything was okay. There weren't things out there in the dark that wanted to hurt him or his family. There was only him and Jess. Nothing else in the world matter. Just Jessica lying in his arms breathing slowly, evenly. Sam breathed in the scent of her hair and sighed happily. His eyes were atill closed but he knew that she was smiling too. They hadn't even done anything, he had just pulled her into his arms after she awoke suddenly from a nightmare. Jess didn't have them often, but when she did they were bad, unforgettable. She had been shivering for awhile but Sam had calmed her the only way he knew how. Hold her, whisper to her words of comfort, and just be there for her. Just like Dean had always been there for him. Sam blinked rapidly, pushing the thoughts of family away. He had been thinking about them more and more often. He didn't even know why. Dean had just appeared in his thoughts one day when he was at a pub with some friemds from Stanford, a few weeks ago. They had been having some beers, when AC/DC's Back In Black had come on the jukebox. At the same time that the song had come on Sam had seen a girl wearing the smallest mini skirt possible and carrying several bottles of beer. His friend Greg had pointed her out to them all. As soon as he had seen her, thoughts of Dean had popped up in his head, thinking of how Dean would have been straight over to her. Using his smoothest lines he would have picked her up and locked them in a room with plenty of beer and ideas. Sam had been more than shocked. He had been surprised. He felt Jess relax against, finally asleep. Sam fell asleep to.

Sammy and Dean were sitting on the couch when a key turned in the lock and the door began opening. Dean grabbed Sammy and pulle dhim to the floor, pushing him under the couch, hiding him as best he could. Dean looked underneath the couch, past Sammy, to see a pair of unfimiliar boots and the cuffs of jeans. Dean hoped that Dad had bought new boots recently, but doubted it. Dad loved his boots and wouldn't change them unless the fell to pieces. Dean crawled under with Sammy, motioning him to keep quiet and not move. Sammy blinked twice, yes, understood. Dean moved so that he could see more of the intruder. It was a man, no doubt, a big man. Dean knewit wans't their Dad, knew that the man meant them harm simply beacuse he had seen the gun in the man's waistband.

"Where are you, Winchester?" Dean noted that the man knew there name, he also noted that he was looking for one Winchester. Dad. The man just stood there, his face out of sight. Dean didn't see the man look down at the couch, smiling in the way that would have made Sammy cry.

"If I don't find you, Winchester, I'll just hunt you down. You and your BOYS," With this last word he fell onto his stomach and grabbed Dean by the arm, pulling him out. Dean had been holding on to Sammy, so he was dragged out to.

"Hello, Dean and little Sammy. I'm here to get revenge on your daddy." Sammy, as predicted, began crying. The man pried Sammy away from Dean and threw him to the floor. "Shut up, boy." Sammy cried even more. "Shut him up, kid. Make sure he doesn't cry again, or I will." He dropped Dean, and heard a staisfying crack as Dean landed on his leg akwardly. Sammy stopped crying looking at Dean, worry etched on his creased brow. Dean looked at Sammy and smiled. Sammy wasn't convinced. He stood up and kicked the man in the shins.

"You hurt, Dean! No one hurts my Dean!" Sammy kicked him again, actually hurting the man. Dean winced as the man grabbed Sammy's throat and squezed, making Sammy gag and turn blue. Dean tried to protest but the man just kicked him in the face, making everything go black. Sammy stopped scratching at the man's hands and his struggling slowed down until it stopped. The last thing Sammy saw before his eyes closed was the evil smile of the man who had hurt his Dean.

As the Sam in the dream closed his eyes, the present Sam opened his breathing heavily, as though he had almost been strangled. He eased Jess away from him and slipped out of the bed, heading for the kitchen. When he got into the kichen he headed straight for the fridhe, pulling out a beer. Sam sat down at the table, twisting the metal cap off the bottle and taking a swig. He remembered the night that he had dreamed of. The night that a man broke into their room and hurt him and Dean, simply to get back at John. Sam sighed, typical John, making the wrong enemies. Hurting the wrong people, pissing them off so much so that they would hurt children just to get him. Sam took another swig of his beer as Jess slowly came into the room.

"You o.k, Sam?" Sam looked up. She was wearing her Smurf pyjamas. Sam smiled and nodded at her.

"Yeah, just not tired. I'm fine, Jess, really. Just go back to bed." Jess looked at him, and shook her head, joining him at the table, after getting a beer out of the fridge for herself.

"No way, Sam. I can't sleep either. What's on our mind? And don't you dare try and lie to me." Sam watched her closely. She wanted to know and she wasn't goig to let up on it. She'd even try to hurt him if she had to.

"Nothing really. Just bad memories." Sam winced at the look at Jessica's face after he said that. Jess looked as though she wanted to hug him, to hold him close. She looked as though she was expecting him to cry. And that was when Sam realised that his eyes were teary. He was going to cry. Jess went over to him and pulled him on to the couch, holding him close.

"Tell me, Sam. I want to know."

Sam sighed. "It happened a long time ago. A lot of the memories are a little blurry." The look on Jess' face clearly said that she wnated to know what he remembered. Sam told her upt o what he had seen in his dream. Only altering anything that had to do with hunting.

"What then?" Sam closed his eyes, remembering...

When Sammy woke up, he was in their bedroom. The lights were off and the blind was pulled down the whole way and taped to the wall. Sammy looked around, finding himself alone, without Dean. Sammy immediately began crying softly. He was scared that if the man heard him crying he would come into the room and squeze his neck again. Sammy rubbed his sore neck and whimpered, wishing that Dean was there. The lock on the door clicked and Samy closed his eyes and brought his breathing under control, hoping that it would look like he was still sleeping. He heard someone walk into the room and stop. Something dropped to he ground, from a low height, the someone walked back out of the room, and the door closed and locked again. Sammy opened his eyes and saw Dean lying on the floor, near to the door. Sammy stood up on unsteady legs and ran over, ignoring the pain that coursed through his body. He reached Dean and fell to the floor, turning Dean over onto his back. Dean was in bad way, that much was apparent. Dean's face was swollen, especailly around his right eye which was black and blue. Dean's left leg was bent at an odd angle, where he had landed on it before. Dean's Led Zeppllin t-shirt was pulled up a little bit at his side and as Sammy looked down he reached forward and pulled the shirt up even more, revealing that Dean's torso was covered in ugly red marks and black bruises. Sammy tried pulling it up even more but stopped when Dean moaned.

"Dean? Are you awake? Dean?" Dean's head moved towards the sound of Sammy's voice. In his mind Dean wasn't in any pain. There were only images flashing through his head. The door opening. The man coming in. The man hurting Sammy... Sammy! Dean's eyes opened.

"Sammy? Sammy!" Dean pulled Sammy down to him, wrapping his arms around him. Sammy winced in pain as Dean's arm brushed against the bruises on his neck. Dean let him go and softly touched Sammy's neck.

"Sammy, does this hurt a lot?" Sammy nodded, tears finally overflowing. Dean stood up and picked Sammy up and sat him on the bed. Sammy tried pushing him away, tried to look at Dean's injuries. Dean pushed his hands away. "No, Sammy, I'm fine. You're not." Dean tried againbut just as he overpowered little Sammy the door opened and the man came back in.

"Well, well. Would you look at this? Little Dean helping little Sammy. So sad that this sight will never be seen again," Dean and Sammy just looked at him, not understanding. "I'm tired of waitin' for your daddy to get back. So I've decided to just kill ya now, get it over with." The pulled out his gun and pointed it at them. Dean held Sammy and whispered calming words to him. It had an immediate effect. Sammy relaxed at the sound of Dean's voice, not so much the words. The man smiled, he had eyes only for Dean. Sammy noticed and slipped away from Dean, landing lightly on the floor, creeping over to the man, just like Dean had taught him. With all his weight Sammy kicked the man's knee, dislocating straight away. The man dropped the gun and fell to the floor. Dean moved quickly, launching himself towards the gun. He grabbed it and stood up, holding the gun to the man's head.

"Get behind me, Sammy. Don't look," Dean added as Sammy moved behind Dean, pressing his face into the small of Dean's back, covering his ears for the gubnshot he knew would come.

"Did it come?" Jess whispered to Sam. Sam looked at her.

"No. Just before Dean pulled the trigger Dad came bursting into the room." Jess blinked in relief. "Dad got him first."

"What? Your dad shot him? Just like that? Didn't even ask what was going on?"

"Nope. The fact that Dean was standing on one leg holding a gun to a stranger's temple, and me hiding behind Dean was enough for him. He knew that this man had threatened us, hurt us. So he shot him in the back. No questions asked." Sam sighed. His dad never asked questions. Just acted. Sam had never liked that lesson. He had always felt that it was better to ask questions first and then, if need be, shoot. Sam had never liked what he did, had never liked that their dad had forced him and Dean to hunt. But most of all, Sam hated that he had never know his mother, hated that she had died before he had known her. Sam had always felt a little guilty about his mother's death, the fact that she had died in his nursery. Jess touched his cheek softly, pulling him out of his depression. He looked over at her and smiled. Picking up Jess' hand he led her back to the bedroom without a sound. She kust followed, smiling.

Later that night...

Sam's eyes fluttered open. His mobile phone vibrating on the bedside table next to him. He picked it up and looked at the screen, not recognising the number shown. He flipped it open and pressed the except button.

"Hello?" Sam's voiced said hoarse.

"Sammy?" Sam sat bolt upright, glancing at Jess' naked back. He slipped out of bed, pulling on a dressing gown. He walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Dean? What is it?" Dean's voice sounded worse than his.

"Nothing, Sam. Just wanted to make sure you were o.k." Sam frowned, confused. Since he had left to come to Stanford he had never gotten a call from either Dean or his dad.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam was worried. Dean sounded tired, sore and worried.

"Yeah, Sammy," There was a slight groan in his voice.

"What's going on? You and dad alright?"

"Sammy! I'm fine! Will you just listen to me?"

"Yeah." Sam was more than worried now. He was freaking out, silently.

"Listen very closely. I know that you probably don't want to hear this, seeing as you said you quit," Sam smiled sadly. When he had left for Standfor, he had told them that he quit hunting. His dad had tole him that you couldn't quit hunting. "But you have to go back on that promise, Sammy."

"Why? Dean, what's going on? Just spit it out." Sam was getting frustrated with Dean.

"Okay, okay. There's osmething there, Sam, at Stanford. We burnt bones, we tried an exorcism. We tried everything. We..."

"What?!" Sam cut across Dean. Something was at Stanford!

"Sam, we don;'t know what it is. But we're too far way to get there in time before it kills someone. Its a nasty motherf..."

"Dean! Where are you?"

"Highway 75. We can't get there. You have to do it."

"I heard something while ago. Three hours ago."

"Three hours? You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Is it a spirit? A werewolf, maybe? What?"

"I dunno. What did you hear?"

"Not really sure. I heard something and I went to investigate. Something fell to the floor inside a room. I checked it out and there was nothing in there. I haven't heard anything since."

"Right, hold on." Sam could just hear Dean talking to someone. Dad most likely. Sam strained his ears to hear anything, but couldn't hear a word over: "Back in black, I hit the sack..." Sam smiled remembering the girl in the bar.

"Sam, it might be a spirit, then again it could be something else." Sam waited for Dean to something else.

"That's it? It might be a spirit, it might not? You gotta give me something else." Silence. "Dean?" Sam looked at his phone. According to that Dean was still on the phone. "Dean? Hello?"

Meanwhile, Dean was saying the same thing. "Sam? Hello? Shit. I lost him Dad."

John Winchester glanced at his oldest son. "Stay on the line." Dean nodded.

Sam took only a second to decide what he had to do. He went back into the badroom and pulled on a pir of boxers and jeans while still holding the phone to his ear. He next slipped on his boots and somehow managed to pull a t-shirt on over his head. Sam then pulled out the chest that housed his guns and picked up the one that he had used earlier, then put the chest back, just in case Jess woke up and found it. He slipped out of the door and started heading towards where he had heard the sound before.

All of a sudden:

"Sammy? You still there?" It was Dean.

"Yeah I'm still here. You got anything more helpful than a maybe?" There was whispering on the other end of the line. Probably Dean asking dad what to say.

"Not really, Sam. Just the same as before." Sam sighed. This was going to be harder than he realised.

"Dean? What happened? How did it get away from you?"

Dean sighed too. "Duno what to tell ya, Sam. The bastard is fast. Too fast. We were in an old warehouse, searching for the thing, when it attacked us out of nowhere. I was thrown against and so was dad. When I came too damn thing was gone."

"How do you know it came here?" Sam was whispering, he had reached the room.

"It said something about wanting to visit an old friend. So we think that either there are two of the suckers or its going after someone there. Sammy, we're really pretty sure thats a spirit. A new one. Has anyone died there recently? Or someone who went there?" Sam thought for a minute, then it hit him.

"Shit. I can't do this one, Dean."

"What? Why not?" Dean looked at his dad, and relayed what Sam had said to him.

"A few weeks ago one of my friends here was killed. He was in hospital for awhile. He woke up and right before he died he told me..." Sam stopped himself. He couldn't go back there. Dean didn't let up so easily.

"Sammy? What did he tell you? Sam?"

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, knowing the reaction that was going to come after he said it. "He told e that if it was the last thing he ever did he swore that he would make me pay. He blamed me for his death." Silence, and then

"What! Sammy, get back to your room and lock yourself in there. Salt it up and stay there until we fix it." Typical overreacting Dean. Then Sam heard a new voice.

"Sam, you need to do what Dean says. Lock yourself in your room. We'll take of this." Sam almost burst into tears. It was dad.

"No. I have to do this. How far away are you?"

"An hour, maybe less. Sam don't you dare try and kill this guy until we get there." Sam tucked the phone it his jeans pocket and raised his gun at the door. There was moaning coming from the other side. Sam breathed in and remember the lessons, the training, from Dean and dad. He stepped forward and opened the door running into the room. It was eerily quiet. Like something had frightened all the insects and mice that Sam knew were in there. This had been Roy's room. His dead friend. The one that had sworn to kill Sam.

"Damn it! He's not listening Dad. He's gone into a room but something tells me its not his room." John Winchester, in fear for both his boys, pressed the pedal to the floor and the Impala lurched forwards. Speeds reaching to 100 miles/hour. Dean kept the phone to his ear listening. He could hear Sam creeping around the room. That's my Sammy, Dean thought, smiling on the inside. As Dean listened, John drove even faster going through stop signs and red lights. He wasn't going to slow down until the got to Sam. All of a sudden Dean heard something that chilled him to the bone.

"Hello Sam."

The sound of a ghost speaking. A ghost speaking to Sam. A ghost that wanted Sam dead. Dean knew his dad had to hear this. If only so that John would drive faster, get them to Sam quicker. Dean put the phone loud speaker.

"Hi Roy," Sam's voice. John glanced at the phone in Dean's calloused hand and drove faster, if that was possible. "I heard you hear to see an old friend. I'm going to assume you mean me." Dean couldn't believe, Sam was pushig the sapirit to attack him. John was even more surprised. That wasn't the Sam he knew, that sounded more like something Dean would do. Dean realised this too, he had rubbed off on little Sammy, good thing too, he thought.

"You're right, Sammy. I swore to kill you, here I am."

"You did swear that didn't ya, Roy, old friend. But you know what, you're not going to get the chance to kill me."
"Oh, is that so? Because ya daddy and brother are on their way to save poor, little, helpless Sammy?"

"Only one person can call me Sammy, and your not him..."

And that's where the phone cut out. John rounded the corner at 150 miles/per hour, they were in town. Dean tried calling Sam but he couldn't get through. He kept trying.

"Hello?" Sam and he sounded like he was in an emmense amount of pain.

"Sammy! Are you okay? What happened?"

"Dean?" Sam groaned. "Put dad on the phone." Dean hestiated. "Never hesitate, Dean, remember?"

"Yeah, hold on." He silently gave the phone to John.

"Hello? Sammy?"

"Dad I'm sorry," Dean could hear every word, John had put it on loudspeaker.

"What for, son?"

"Leaving. I'm sorry, so sorry."

"Don't be, Sam. You did what was right by you. I should be the one saying sorry."

"No, Dad. You did everything you could for us, you did your best, And I never thanked you, never appreciated you. And I justed wanted to tell you that. I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Sam. Stay awake Sam, keep talking to Dean, we'll be there in a few minutes." Without a word he handed the phone to Dean. Dean took it off loudspeaker and held it to his ear. He could hear the end of Billy Joel's 'Only the Good Die Young', Dean almost started bawling then and there.

"Sammy?" Dean knew that he was the only one that could call him that.

"I'm here Dean." Dean sighed. Tears sprung to his eyes as he heard the opening bars to Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On'.

"Stay with me, Sammy. Don't close your eyes. don't give in." Damn this song, Dean thought, tears threatening to brim over as the song continued.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"For what, Sammy? You've done nothing wrong." John glanced at his boy. The bond between both of his boys was so strong. So unbreakable.

"I left you. Dean, you were right. I don't fit in here, not really. I'm smart enough but I don't fit in," Sam empahised the last point. "Dean, thankyou for teaching me everything you know. I will never forget it." The Imapla pulled up outside Stanford. Dean jumped out and raced in, leaving his dad and his weapons behind him. He got up to the room and went in, just as the song reached its crecendo. He ran to Sam, who was lying on the floor in a pool pf his own blood. Dean cradled Sam's head and held him close, like he did all those years ago.

"Dean..." Sam's voice was a mere whisper, he was in agonising pain.

"Shh, don't speak. We'll get you out of here." The song started again. Both Sam and Dean felt it was appropriate. Dean rocked Sam back and forth. The song skipped to its crescendo again.

"I love you Dean."

"I love you Sammy."

"I won't forget you..."

"I won't forget you either."

"Goodbye Dean."

"No! Sammy!" John raced into the room, gun raised, just in case. He took in the scene and lowered his gun sadly. He smiled at Sam who just managed to smile back.

As the last notes of Celine Dion's 'My Heart Will Go On' finished Sam Winchester closed his eyes and breathed out for the last time.