Hello friends new and old! Here I am! I've come with a new story, which you should be able to tell because you clicked on this thing. This is going to be a bunch (I hope) of unrelated one-shots (I will do two-shots if you all really like it). But anyways, it will be about the Winchesters as children and as adults! So if you don't like the idea, I'M SORRY, OK? Just kidding, I love the idea too much to be sorry. *Huge smile*

And you can even request stories! Leave me a prompt in the reviews or PM me about it telling me these things:

1. Do you want to remain anonymous or not?

2. What are the ages of Sam and Dean?

3. What do you want to happen in said story? (Because I can't write it without that!)

Oh, one last bit. The stories can't be occurring in seasons 8 or 9 because I'm not that far yet. (Almost there!) All of that said, I'm gonna get this show on the road. I made this first story so I hope you enjoy! And sorry about the long author's note, I'm not usually like this. DON'T OWN SUPERNATURAL. I AM A PEASANT.


Dean is 14 and Sam is 10


Dean walked back into the room he was sharing with his little brother, fully dressed and ready for school. He was kind of surprised that he hadn't gotten ready yet. Usually Sam is ready and practically pushing Dean out the door so the two weren't late for school. But today, he hadn't seen his little brother's face all morning.

When Dean quietly pushed open the door, he saw his little brother's bed was still occupied. Sam had burrowed under the covers and appeared to be shivering. Dean crossed the room quickly and sat down carefully on his bed, making sure not to jostle Sam too much.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Feel... Sick.." Sam muttered quietly. Dean carefully pulled the covers away from Sam's face and felt his little brother's forehead. He was burning up and Dean silently cursed himself for not noticing the youngest Winchester's condition earlier.

"What feels bad, Sammy?" Dean asked calmly.

"Stomach." Sam said before quickly getting up and bolting to the bathroom. Dean ran in after and saw Sam leaning over the toilet, emptying his stomach's contents into the bowl. Dean kneeled down next to his brother's shaking form and rubbed his back in circles to comfort him.

Dammit, where's dad when you need him? Dean thought. Their father had been away on a hunt for nearly two weeks now. Dean could easily handle Sam when he had a cold, but when he was throwing up? He just couldn't bear to see Sam in such a state. If their dad was here, he could at least help Dean. Well, I guess I'm on my own.

When Sam finished being sick, Dean helped him to his feet and make it back to his bed.

"Can you stay here while I go get the thermometer?" Dean asked, not wanting to leave his brother's side when he was feeling so horrible.

Sam nodded weakly and Dean walked out of the room quickly. He went to the first aid kit and pulled out the thermometer. Dean was headed back to Sam's side when he stopped and turned around and headed back towards the kit. He grabbed the whole thing and went back into their room. Dean finally got a good look at Sam when he got back in the room. Sam was very pale and looked extremely tired. He had a noticeable sheen of sweat on his brow.

To put it simply, Sam looked crappy.

"Here, buddy, I'm gonna take your temperature." Dean said comfortingly. Sam cooperated as Dean put the thermometer in his mouth. In a minute, it beeped and Dean looked at the results.

"You have a fever of 102. Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" Dean asked his brother quietly.

"I-I started feeling bad last night. I didn't want to keep you awake, though." Sam said in a small voice. It was obvious he wasn't feeling well.

"Oh, Sam. You never have to worry about me. I'm supposed to be looking out for you, remember?" Dean said and Sam nodded, "I will always help you, no matter what. No matter how late it is, no matter what plans I have. I will drop everything. Ok?"

"Ok, Dean." Sam responded. Dean smiled and slowly ran a hand through his little brother's hair.


The rest of the day was mostly a game of trying to have Sam's stomach hold food down. Sam threw up a grand total of eleven times. Every time, Dean was there to comfort Sam, rubbing his back and telling him that everything was going to be ok. Dean only left his brother's side for a minute or two at a time to get Sam something to eat or drink. The two enjoyed each other's company and talked whenever Sam felt up to it.

Finally, at 6:00 PM, Sam finally was able to eat something and keep it down. Dean felt as relieved as Sam did. Dean could finally relax a little, knowing that the chances of his brother throwing up again have gone down.

The fever had gone down to 101 degrees. Sam was still shivering, but not as much as he had been that morning. Sam finally fell asleep under a mound of blankets and warm pajamas.

At eight o'clock, Sam had been asleep for nearly two hours. Dean was leaning against the headboard of Sam's bed, his arms wrapped around his little brother in both a comforting and protective manner. Sam was snuggled against Dean's chest and whenever Dean looked down at Sam, he smiled a little. He loved his little brother so much. Sam was growing up so fast and Dean always relished in the moments when his brother depending on him.

Dean knew that he ran a risk of getting sick himself, especially when he was sitting here with his brother in his arms. But he couldn't care less. His brother, his Sammy, needed him and if it meant getting a little bug, he would happily take it. As long as he could help Sam. As long as Sam was safe.

As long as he felt loved.