Disclaimer: The boys are still not mine no matter how often they appeared in my dreams.
A/N: This is a story requested by Emerald-Water who wanted to see Sam with little Dean and baby Sammy. Hopefully I met your expectation girl.

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

Chapter 1 -Sam:You're so getting your payback Dean.

"Why Sam?" her soft voice drifted into his dreams.

"Jess…"

"Why Sam?"

"Jess!"

"Why?"

"JESS!" Sam screamed as the blue fire engulfed him completely.

"SAM!" Dean's booming voice jolted Sam awake from his restless slumber. He looked around and realized he was nowhere near the burning apartment. No fire, no bed, no Jessica. No Jessica. However, there beside him was his brother – pressing a hand on his chest, keeping him grounded.

Sam shook his head, chasing away the remnants of his nightmare and shoved Dean's hand aside – straightening himself against the seat. He gazed outside the Impala's window. They were still outside the witch's house, on lookout for their latest hunt. Sam remembered the golden rays of the setting sun hitting their window when they first got there but what he saw outside now was darkness everywhere – murky, damp and stiff.

"Why did you let me fall asleep?" Sam shot his big brother an accusing glare.

"Because I'm a great big brother." Dean glimpsed at him momentarily and furrowed his brows before he turned his wary eyes to the house again.

"What time is it?" Sam asked, not bothering to check his own watch.

"Almost 10," Dean answered. He'd always answered Sam's inquiry, no matter how stupid it might sound.

Sighing tiredly, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and leant his head on the cushion. "You shouldn't have let me sleep."

"Well…sorry for trying to help," Dean rolled his eyes. Little brothers! "I just thought you needed the beauty sleep, you know to keep yourself beautiful?" he raised one brow and patted Sam's thigh – a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Not funny Dean." Sam sent him a death glare.

"Aww…come on." Dean shrugged. "Why so grumpy? You have to admit…it was a little funny."

"Shut up Dean." Sam grunted, not interested to continue their banter.

Aware of the stress in Sam's voice, Dean's protective big brother mode kicked in. He ran his eyes over Sam's slumped features and shook his head. "You know Sam…this nightmare, not sleeping thing, Jess…you have to deal with it," he tried to sound gentle, not too harsh.

"I'm dealing."

Dean snorted "Yeah? This is what you call dealing?" and gestured at Sam's slumped features.

His insomniac brother had lost so much weight over the last couple of months. "The way I see it…you're not showing much improvement."

"Tell me Dean…what you want me to do?" Sam snapped back, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The bitterness in Sam's tone didn't discourage Dean from giving his brother a piece of his mind. "For starters…you should try to forgive yourself." He didn't try to match with Sam's tone though. His brother was suffering andhe couldn't just simply let it continue.

"I…" the urge to tell his brother everything suddenly faded as Sam hesitated, "forget it Dean…you won't understand." The only person who would understand his loss was missing and they'd been looking for himwith no avail. Dad had lost mom the same way he'd lost Jess – yes, dad would understand the pain.

Dean rolled his eyes but honestly that was what he'd been expected to hear. "Then tell me! Help me understand!" Dean fixed his eyes on Sam's and sighed when Sam avoided looking at him.

"Not now Dean," Sam said turning away from Dean toglance out of the window into the impending darkness – finding his peace in nothingness.

The response was not what he'd been hoping for. "Seriously dude! You're killing yourself!" Dean couldn't stay patient forever. He had his own limit, and it did nothing to reassure his nerves watching Sam in so much pain.

"Mind your own business, Dean" Sam huffed. He didn't mean to hurt anybody but Sam was so tired. Hell! He was tired of everything.

That was it! Dean had had enough. He had enough of Sam's screaming Jess's name in his sleep. It hurt him to see his brother writhing, tossing and turning in his bed when he finally fell asleep after hours of fighting to stay awake. "I would if you could do a better job watching after yourself! I think you don't give a damn what this does to you."

"You know what Dean…you're right," Sam glared at Dean. "I don't give a damn about anything! I don't give a damn about this hunt… this job…I just want to find dad, find Jess's killer and get this over with!" Something inside him erupted. He had contained the pain for so long and suddenly it flowed out of him like a tidal wave. The worst of it was he knew he was lashing outat the wrong person but Sam couldn't stop himself. He needed the outburst and Dean was the best option – the only option he had – as his subject of rage.

"Hey! Easy there tiger!" Dean was shocked. "So this is what it's all about? Revenge? Man, I'm telling you…you're not going anywhere with it."

Sam shook his head, angry and discontent. "Dean! I'm sick of you telling me everything!" he opened the door and stormed out of the car. Dean came out soon after that, the hunt was already a forgotten subject. Sam continued to rant, "and I'm sick of listening to you…you told me that we would find dad…you told me that dad wanted us to pick up where he left off, that we should save people, hunt things…that it's all family's business…I listened to you and look where it broughtme!?"

"Nowhere!" Sam yelled.

"Now what? You're putting all the blame on me?"

"No Dean! It just that…you won't understand! You won't feel it the way I do." Sam buried his face in his palms, brushing the tears before they were shed. "You never lost anyone the way I did…or the way dad did." If only he'd been looking at Dean then Sam would have seen how his brother's face falls as soon as he'd spoken those bitter words. If only Sam hadn't been too engrossed in his own sadness then he would have heard Dean's breath catch in his didn't realize how much his words pierced through Dean's heart, hurting his brother so deeply.

"Yeah Sammy…I don't understand." Dean shrugged as he leaned against the car withhis back to Sam. "I don't understand how you and dad felt seeing the way mom and Jess died…but I do understand the pain of losing the woman you loved most in your life…losing mom, it was painful, God! It still is…"

Sam looked up and studied his brother's back. The way Dean's shoulders were slumped forward told him enough; his brother was trying real hard to conceal the pain he was feeling. Guilt started to envelop Sam, punishing him for the words he had spoken without thinking. "Dean…" he knew he had to apologize, but he didn't know where to start.

"What I do understand is how much it hurts to lose someone you love so much but when they are still alive it's...losing mom was bad, but now losing you and dad is worse."

'God! Oh God! Dean!' How could he hurt the only person who never had left him – the only person that would always be there for him no matter what so bad? Not only he'd left Jessica to die now he hurt Dean too? "Dean…I'm…" His apology was interrupted with Dean yelling at him, screaming out his name like there was no tomorrow.

"Sammy!"

At least that was what Sam thought Dean did - screaming out for him – because he didn't really hear what his brother was saying.

Sam heard Dean's screams fade away as his senses went out, numbed by the white hot searing pain creeping up his back. The only sound that he heard was a soft whispering in his ears, saying…

"You are doomed to a restless sleep…where thou shall live but will not wake…where thou shall feel but will not touch…thou shall speak but will not tell…and thou shall watch but will not act."

And then the pain subsided. Sam saw Dean running for him – his face was ashen white, frantic and scared – and that was about the last thing he saw before his knees buckled under him. Then everything turned eerily dark.

'Am I dead?'

…..

Sam woke up on a bright sunny day. The ray pierced his eyes and it hurt like hell. Squinting hard, he shielded his eyes from the offending light with his hand. He looked around and realized he was lying on a bench, Dean was nowhere in sight.

"Dean…?" he called with raspy voice. What happened? Everything around him was strange yet it seemed so familiar. There was a nagging feeling in his stomach telling him that he was nowhere around the witch's house. And he was alone, that was pretty obvious because if Dean was somewhere around him, his big brother would have started invading his personal space already.

Okay, this is weird, he thought. He yelled, "Dean this is not funny!"Getting no response, Sam was panicking. Something was definitely wrong. Where the hell was Dean?

"Dean! Come out!" he balked as he jackknifed into a sitting position. His head spun, but at least the vertigo helped clear his mind. He looked around frantically. Still no Dean. But he was aware now that he was lying on a bench, right in front of a diner.

Sam stood up, wobbled a little, and walked across the road – heading towards the diner. Why he ended up sleeping on the bench by a roadside was still a blur but he hoped it was just another one of Dean's stupid pranks. He hoped that somehow he'd find Dean sitting in one of the booths, eating his pie, drinking his coffee, reading the morning news, laughing his heart out as Sam walked into the diner, confused.

But everything Sam had in his mind vanished as he stepped into the diner. He was confused all right but Dean was not there. Nu'uh? Really? No Dean. Sam's headache increased tenfold.

"You okay son?" the diner's keeper asked over the counter, worried to see how Sam staggered, barely able to stand up straight. His guess, a young man wasted from last night's blast.

Sam flopped down on one of the chairs near the counter and hung his head low. Something happened to Dean and God, he didn't have the slightest idea what mess they'd been into. The last thing he remembered was Dean running to him, yelling his name and there was this white hot pain searing up his spine. Then his mind just went numb. Though he tried hard to remember what happened after that, nothing would come to his head. Nada!

"This might clear up your head a bit," the store-keeper offered him a cup of coffee, fresh brewed. Sam looked up and smiled dryly. "It's on me," the middle-aged man returned him a fatherly smile.

"Thanks," Sam rasped and stared at the cup. Dean was not there. He was alone. Did Dean leave him? No, Dean would never leave. In fact Sam was the one who left. Dad left. But Dean never would. Again, he looked up to the keeper, finding the balding man smiling at him warmly.

"Rough night, huh?"

Sam tried to smile but he didn't have the energy to even stay awake. "Sir, would you by chance have seen a 67 Impala anywhere in the town?" It couldnot hurt to ask. Sam would take any cluesnow. "It belongs to my big brother, he's…missing," Sam swallowed the last word.

The man's face fell. "Uh…I'm sorry about your brother, son."

Sam cringed at how the man was addressing him. It had been long since anyone called him son. Even his own father didn't call him son too often.

"But…the only 67 Impala I saw in this town belongs to the Winchester guy."

"Yes! That's my brother!" Sam beamed up – his heart filled with hope. So it was a prank after all. Damn Dean! You're so getting a payback!

"You said you're his brother?" the man seemed confused. "That's weird…I never knew that he had a brother."

"What?" Sam's heart skipped a beat. His hope had just flown right out the window.

"He has a family…two good boys and a wife, but he never mentioned having a younger brother," the man continued, not knowing how his words affected the young man sitting in frontof him.

Dean has a family? That was impossible. This man was not talking about Dean. He was either dreaming or the witch had put a big black mojo on him, making the world around him somewhat different. Either way, Dean having a wife and kids of his own was outrageous.

"Dean doesn't have a family," he whispered. Sam wasn't sure who to trust now.What if the world he'd been living with Dean was unreal? What if everything that he remembered was a figment of his imagination? What if there had never been a Sam Winchester?

"Dean?" the keeper's brows knitted. "I don't know any Dean who would fit as your big brother son…but I do know little Dean," he smiled. Boy! This kid surely had a blast last night. "He's a great kid…so in love with pies," he chortled with amusement.

Sam's blood ran cold. "Little Dean?" Pies?

"Yeah…John's boy," the man nodded to his new customer who had just entered the diner. "Speaking of the devil…"

Turning around, Sam's eyes went wide as he watched a dark haired man stepping into the diner, pushing a dark blond boy towards the nearest booth. "Morning Eric!" the man waved one hand towards Eric, the diner's keeper.

"Morning John!" Eric smiled and greeted the young boy who happily leapt onto one of the chairs nearest to Sam – ignoring his father disgruntled mumbling. "Hi Dean!"

"Hiya Eric!" the dark blond boy smiled brightly. "I want pie."

Eric chuckled. "We have a special today…blueberry pie with vanilla ice cream on top." He left the counter and went into the kitchen, retrieving the pie.

The boy clapped his hands and bounced happily on his chair, his father's wary hand hovering over his back. "Hear that daddy? Ice cream!"

"Yeah," the dark haired man smiled contentedly. "Just keep this between you and me…your mom will kill me if she knew I let you have ice cream for breakfast."

"Oki dokie!" the little boy gave his dad a thumb up.

All the while the father and son were having their little conversation, Sam watched with disbelieving eyes. He was looking at familiar faces. Those were the faces of his father John Winchester and his not-so-big brother Dean Winchester. Only they were younger, WAY younger.

Sam's vision started to blur, everything around him spun madly he had to hold his head in his hands to keep himself from falling down. He grabbed the newspaper and read the year, 1983! He looked through the glass window and saw the signboard of a shop across the road – Jack's and Sons Liquor Store, Lawrence, Kansas.

What the hell? How did he end up in Kansas and two decades back? There was nothing to logically explain what was happening around him. His heart beat frantically in his ribs and he was sweating all over despite the chilly air. Black dots were dancing ahead of him and his head throbbed like it was going to explode any minute now.

"Son…are you all right?" Eric asked him, one hand holding his shoulder, squeezing him gently. Sam looked up to him and saw two guys instead of one. He blinked hard and looked again. Eric had just multiplied to four. He cast a glance at the two Winchesters sitting beside him and saw their face went ashen white. The boy – Dean – looked so terrified for him he was practically reaching for Sam, unconsciously trying to hold him.

That was too much for him. This had to be a dream! Sam got up to his feet only to feel his knees buckle under him. The next thing he saw was the floor coming right towards his face – or the other way around – before he blacked out, again.

It was a dream and he was sure when he woke up, everything would be back to normal.

'Dean, payback's going to be a bitch!'

TBC

a/n: Should I continue?