Title: And Many More
Author: kaly
Category: Gen; humor; pre-series (Sam 16, Dean 20)
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 2,165
Rating: G
Spoilers: none
Summary: It's Sam's birthday, but something, or rather someone, is missing.

Note the first: Happy birthday to Sam:)

Note the second: geminigrl11 provided the beta, as always. Thank you!

Disclaimer: Not mine. The pretty, snarky, angsty brothers belong to Kripke & the CW.

And Many More

When Sam got home from school, he wasn't surprised to find the apartment empty. Both Dean and their dad had been wrapped up in a hunt for a black dog that had lasted over a week so far. Since Sam was in the middle of finals, John had reluctantly agreed to let him focus entirely on school, rather than the hunt.

Sam felt guilty, staying behind - safe, he couldn't help thinking - when they were gone such long hours. In fact, Sam had hardly seen them the entire time. But he knew they would be moving soon - a semester was the longest they ever stayed in one place - and the finals were important to him. Even if his dad didn't always agree.

It didn't take long to scrape something together for dinner and even less time to eat what he had prepared. Soon enough, he was curled on the couch, surrounded by textbooks and notepads. His geometry final was the next morning and, as it was his weakest class (although still an A) he was determined not to let any study time go to waste.

And if it helped him to ignore what day it was, all the better. Birthdays had never been a big event in their family. He'd certainly never had a birthday party and he'd outgrown wishing for one years before. He didn't even tell anyone at school when it was his birthday - it was easier that way, less disappointing.

Dean always remembered, though. Even though he usually couldn't afford a gift and their dad often forgot completely, Dean always told him happy birthday. On a couple of cringe-worthy occasions there was even singing involved. It was usually horribly off-key singing and sometimes even in front of other people.

But this year Dean wasn't home yet when Sam left for school, so there had been no birthday wishes then. And while it felt like something was missing, Sam couldn't blame his brother. He'd be lying if he said he didn't understand Dean's position in the family, following their dad's lead - even if he didn't always agree with it, as he'd grown older.

Sam sighed. Obviously geometry wasn't going to be enough of a distraction as he'd hoped. Glancing at the window, Sam was surprised to see that it was already dark.

Birthday or not, he was beginning to miss his brother - they rarely went so long without talking. Phone calls weren't allowed at school and Sam knew better to interrupt a hunt for anything less than an emergency. Other than a couple of short, scribbled notes passed back and forth during the week, it was quiet.

He just wanted to see him and find out how things were going, if everything really was okay. However, he knew that the only reason they'd be home after dark was if one of them were hurt or the hunt was over. Based on their dad's comments, the latter wasn't likely just yet. Sam shuddered - the former was simply his worst fear.

He shook his head, as if it would push the ill thought away. It was a silly superstition, but one he'd never outgrown. His dad and Dean would be fine, Sam would get up for school in the morning and Dean would be there safe and snoring away in the bed next to Sam's.

Only first, Sam had to stop thinking about what ifs. There might not be any such thing as jinxes, but Sam wasn't willing to risk it.

Closing his geometry book - the lines and shapes were blurring on the page anyway - Sam gave up on studying for the night. It was already going on ten and getting a little extra sleep for once probably wouldn't be a bad thing. He shoved the books and papers into his bag, careful not to mess any of them up, before zipping it closed.

Once his bag was in his room, Sam went around the small apartment, getting it ready for the night. The chore was one of the first things Sam could really remember learning. Lines of salt at every window and door, bolts thrown on all the doors, latches secured on the windows, other assorted wards beside any entry points. Lastly, he double-checked that all the blinds were drawn, but not disturbing the salt, before turning out the living room light.

A last glance around the darkened room and Sam went into the room he shared with Dean to get ready for bed. He changed into pajamas - the pants of which no longer reached his ankles, thanks to a recent growth spurt - and crawled into bed. The almost-too-small sleepwear was worth it, however, just to be taller than Dean. It had its moments of being amusing, when it drove his big brother crazy, Sam thought with a drowsy smile.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing Sam was aware of was someone poking him in the ribs. Instantly awake, Sam cursed and grabbed the knife that Dean insisted he sleep with under his pillow.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean said, grabbing Sam's wrist. "Easy tiger. Just me."

Blinking quickly, Sam let go of a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. "Dean?" Sam glanced at the clock. Confused when he saw that it wasn't even midnight, he asked, "What are you doing home? Are you okay?"

Dean nodded and glanced at Sam's hand, which was still holding the knife. "You awake now? Ready to put that down and not try to slice and dice me?"

"Very funny," Sam said, rolling his eyes at Dean's ever-present sarcasm. "You're the one that insists I keep it there."

Dean looked serious for a moment, letting go of Sam's arm. "Yeah, and you had good reaction time with it, even asleep. Never know, that might save your life some day."

Sam couldn't help feeling a little proud at the respect he saw in Dean's eyes. He then slid the knife back under his pillow, carefully so as not to cut the sheets. Turning his attention back to his brother, he asked, "Did you get the black dog?"

Dean shook his head. "No, not yet."

Alarmed, Sam glanced at Dean from head to toe before moving to stand. "Which of you is hurt?" he asked, suddenly very wide awake and scared. There was no other reason they'd be home yet. "Where's Dad?" The full fear of Sam's superstition washed over him and he fell back onto the bed when Dean grabbed his arm and pulled.

"Calm down, Sam," he said, not letting go of Sam's arm. "We're both fine, okay? Trust me. Dad's still out there."

Looking closely at Dean, Sam could tell he was telling the truth. However it only compounded his confusion. Dean shouldn't be at home, especially if their dad wasn't also there. "Then why..."

Sam was brought up short when Dean carefully pulled his free arm from around his back. In his hand was a squashed jelly donut, a single lit candle pressed into the top.

"Happy birthday, Sammy."

"Dean..."

Sam felt something different wash over him then - something far better than stone-cold fear he was sadly far more familiar with - as he stared at the donut with its leaking center and worn candle. It wasn't something he would ever admit to out loud - as if Dean would ever let him forget it if he did - but it was there all the same. Even in the middle of the hunt that had consumed them for days, Dean hadn't forgotten.

"Dude, are you gonna blow out the candle or ask it out for a date?" Startled, Sam looked quickly from the donut to Dean's face and blushed. He couldn't help cringing at the smirk there - that never did bode well. "I know you're lacking in the love life and all Romeo, but I'm thinking the latter isn't likely to last long, sorry."

Rolling his eyes, Sam took a quick breath and blew out the candle. And in a sudden burst of silliness, he made a wish as he did so. Something else on the admittedly short list of things he would never admit to his brother.

Dean grinned and pulled the candle free before handing the sticky pastry to Sam. "Here, you could use a little more meat on your bones, beanpole."

"Is that one of Dad's ceremonial candles?" Sam asked, giving the donut a wary glance, flicking small drops of wax from the top. There was no telling what kinds of things the candle had been used for before.

Dropping the candle onto the table, Dean shrugged. "I washed it before I put it on there. It's fine."

"And when Dad finds out?" Sam asked, fighting the urge to smile when Dean flinched just a little bit.

"Well, he won't if we don't tell him, now will he?"

Sam watched as Dean pulled his boots off and let them drop heavily to the floor. Taking Dean at his word that it was safe, he tore the donut into two pieces - making a right mess in the process - and held out part to his brother. Dean hesitated before taking the offered piece and popping it into his mouth all at once.

Taking a bite, Sam considered for a minute before saying, "Dean..." His older brother paused for a moment, looking up from where he had just finished changing into his own pajamas (a ratty AC/DC t-shirt that their dad had threatened to throw away as punishment at least once and boxers).

"Thanks," Sam finished, looking away from his brother.

He saw out of the corner of his eye when Dean smiled, just barely. "I wasn't going to forget your birthday, Sam."

Nodding, Sam risked another glance at Dean who had by then crawled into bed, turning the lamp off as he did so. "I know, but you've been busy. I understood, you know."

Shrugging awkwardly, his hands under his head as he stared at the ceiling, Dean replied, "Well, maybe I didn't want you to have to understand." And as if he felt uncomfortable with even that much sentiment, Dean added, "Now can we please go to sleep? I've gotta be up early to do more map research for Dad at the library."

Sam couldn't help smiling. The reaction to avoid any 'chick-flick' moments wasn't lost on him, but it was just part of who Dean was. It didn't mean Sam didn't know how he felt. Looking down at the grape jelly smeared on his fingers, which he then licked clean, Sam knew that had proof of how his brother felt.

And while he appreciated what Dean had done, Sam also knew the best response was to change the subject. Snickering, he said, "Bet you'll be happy when school's out then, huh? Wouldn't want you to get a paper cut."

It wasn't a serious comment - Dean had done most of the research on this case since Sam had been busy. It wasn't a secret that Dean wasn't bad at it, even if he - rather vocally sometimes - didn't like it. Which was okay, differing interests and strengths made them a better team on the still rare occasions Sam was allowed to hunt. And Sam liked that.

He didn't have to see Dean's face to know he was rolling his eyes. "Shut up. I'd hate to have to kick your ass on your birthday." The amused tone belied the actual words themselves. In fact, Sam could tell Dean was close to laughing himself. "Because I will, just so you know."

Chuckling even harder, Sam asked, "Will I need to get a stepladder?" He couldn't help it, the novelty of finally having something over Dean - in this case literally - was still too new. Sam kind of figured the thrill of it wouldn't wear off for quite a while.

Dean flipped him off, saying, "You wish, sasquatch. I can kick your scrawny ass blindfolded."

"Don't tell Dad that," Sam replied. "He would probably make you try."

His persistence was rewarded when Dean finally gave in to the laughter Sam had known he was fighting. "Yeah, maybe. But I'd totally win."

"You wish."

"No, I know."

"Right."

"Sammy..."

Smiling, Sam let his eyes close and curled around his pillow, knowing it was best to let Dean have the last word or they'd never get any sleep. A glance at the clock confirmed it was a minute to midnight - his birthday was almost over for another year.

"Thanks, Dean," he whispered, not sure if his brother could even hear him.

He must have, though, for a few seconds later there was an equally quiet, "You're welcome, Sammy."

Sam smiled as the clock finally rolled over to midnight. His birthday wasn't missing anything after all and if he got his childish wish - though he knew better really - neither of their birthdays ever would.

fin