A/N: Hey guys! Back again! While I am still trying hard to get the next multichap fic up and running, I had to write this little one-shot first. It would not leave me alone, I swear! Anyways, I love reviews so by all means leave one, as I love to hear from you guys. Hope you enjoy it!

A/N#2: Any spelling or grammatical errors are sadly mine. I'm on my own in terms of editing for this one!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own them. Kripke does though..

Promises

Upon entering another nameless town, Dean bee-lined it to the nearest diner for a highly needed caffeine fix before driving on for another 5 ½ hours before they reached Parkville, Missouri, their newest destination that had the makings of a poltergeist infestation. These kinds of hunts were Dean's favorite, and he couldn't't wait to kick some poltergeist ass.

Dean guided the Impala into an empty stall, parked, and killed the engine. Pulling out his wallet from his back pocket, Dean slapped two fives into Sam's hand.

"Now, don't forget the cream this time man." Dean muttered as Sam opened the door and got out. Leaning over towards the passenger door, Dean added, "Oh, and see if they have any pie. No apple though." Sam sighed, and rolled his eyes as he slammed the door shut and walked over to the small diner and disappeared inside, the small bell ringing as the door closed behind him.

Letting out a sigh, Dean reclined in his seat, and closed his eyes, his hands behind his head.

They had just wrapped up a hunt in Pittsburgh, and they had taken off soon after finding the colt missing and had been trying to play catch up with Bela ever since. That was just over a week ago. It had also been the very same day they had left, that Dean had confided in Sam that he wanted to live and that he didn't want to go to hell, or to die, for that matter. It's not that Dean had been all giggles and smiles about going in the first place. It's not called hell for nothing. But to think… that he may become the very thing he hunts, the thing he loathes, is terrifying. Just thinking about it causes a chill to race up and down his spine and he shivers against the thought.

Though talking to Sam and telling him had taken some weight of his shoulders, another weight fell back in its place. He shouldn't have had to burden Sam with that. The kid already had enough on his plate, enough worry and stress that would have crippled other men, but not his Sammy. Dean smirked at the thought. Sam was always strong willed. Stubborn and thick headed as a mule, totally, but he was strong, unbreakable. Dean could see it in every thing that Sam did, everything that he set his mind to, Sam could do anything.

Even if they couldn't figure out a way to save him, Dean believed that Sam would be fine on his own. He had to believe that. Cause if that wasn't the truth, it would eat him alive.

The scuffling of sneakers on the walkway caught Dean's attention and he opened his eyes to what he figured was his brother coming back with his coffee and hopefully pie, but instead, two younger boys walked past the car, both wearing backpacks, while one carried a textbook under his arm. The two boys stopped in front of the diner. The younger one, who couldn't have been more than 6, stood up on the tips of his toes to see into the window, and was more than likely looking at where the desserts were situated.

Dean watched, as the elder boy came up behind thesmaller boy, and wrapped his arms around his middle, and lifted him up higher, giving the little guy a better look through the window. Definitely brothers, Dean thought as he watched the younger boy point to different goodies in the window and the older boy nodding in agreement, while trying to keep a hold of his wiggling little brother without letting him fall.

Dean couldn't help but see a similarity between these two boys and himself and Sam. The younger kid looked much like Sam did when he was around that age. He had the same shaggy hair, worn down jacket, dirty sneakers, and an over-sized backpack that Sam had when he was a little kid. The elder boy also reminded Dean of himself. Though the kid's hair was longer than Dean's and was almost black in color, he wore the same down jacket and baggy jeans with holes in the knees, and had a very worn out backpack with a broken strap on the left side.

The boys were anything but quiet, so Dean could hear most of their conversation.

"Jordan, lift me up higher! I can't see the bottom shelf." Jordan grunted under his brother's weight.

"You're too heavy David. I can't hold you up forever. Come on, we better get home before Mom starts to worry." Jordan lowered his brother down, and pulled on the strap of his backpack, trying to readjust it to make it more comfortable on his narrow shoulder.

"Is Mom going to let us get a treat tomorrow Jordan? We haven't hadone in a long while. I'm getting bored of having sandwiches and macaroni for lunch and dinner. Mom said we could get a treat one of these days. We've been good!" Dean could almost see the wheels in Jordan's head turning as he tried to sooth the disappointed boy.

"We'll see kiddo. Mom's been working overtime at the store. I'll tell ya what. If we can't get it this week, I promise you we'll get one next week. I'll even let you choose which ones we get. How does that sound, huh?" Even from where he was sitting in the Impala, Dean could see David's face light up at the prospect of choosing the next dessert, and in return, the elder boy had a smile that mirrored his brother's.

"Are you going to walk me to and from school tomorrow Jay?" Jordan glanced down at his younger sibling and simply draped an arm around his brother's tiny shoulders, and replied, "Of course dude. I won't leave you behind." Dean watched as the brothers meandered down the street.

"I won't leave you behind." Dean repeated to himself, as he rested his head against the driver's seat. Those words tickled a memory from Dean's long forgotten childhood, and with it, brought back a promise he had made almost 20 years ago.

Winslow, Arizona, September 6th, 1988.

Light filtered in from the paper thin blinds, casting a golden glow across Dean's bed. Dean groaned as the light hit his eyes and he turned his head away and buried his head into his pillow. The next thing he knew, the radio crackled to life out of the damaged alarm clock, and the way too chipper broadcaster proclaimed that it was going to be another hot but beautiful day in Winslow. Dean groaned again, and reached over and slammed his fist on the 'off' button and the annoyingly cheerynews reporter was cut off mid sentence.

A rustling of blankets from the bed across the room and the sound of soft footsteps on the hardwood floor told Dean that his brother was already out of bed. It wasn't surprising. This was Sam's first day of school. The kid had talked non stop for the past four months about school, especially about how he'd be able to read more stories than the meager amount of books they actually had that were of the non-hunting variety. Not even in the building, and already his brother was a book worm.

Dean lay stretched out on his back, hands behind his head and just relaxed for a few more minutes. Quarter to seven was a ghastly hour to get up. He knew he had just a little extra time to spare before he had to get up and get himself and Sam ready for school.

They had been here just over two weeks. John had taken off yesterday to go take care of a hunt one town over, and had left Dean in charge of getting both himself and Sam to school, as well as the household chores and making meals for the both of them. Dean took pride in having such a responsibility and being trusted with Sam's well-being. It was something that John came to rely on, and Dean was more than happy to comply with.

With a deep sigh, Dean climbed out of his nice warm bed, even though he really wanted to just crawl back in and go back to sleep.

Shuffling down the hallway, Dean moved towards the kitchen, opening the cupboard and retrieved two small bowls, along with a box of Lucky Charms. Pulling the drawer open next, he grabbed two spoons and tossed them into the bowls and slammed the drawer shut.

Grabbing the milk from the fridge and kicking the door shut, Dean filled the two bowls to the brim with cereal, then poured the milk on top, milk droplets landing all over the counter. Hearing a yawn, Dean looked up and watched his younger brother climb up onto his seat at the table and stretch, his little arms raised high above his head as another yawn escaped passed his lips.

"Are you ready for your first day of school today Sammy?" Dean asked casually as he set the bowl of cereal in front of his brother and grabbed his own from the counter and sat down.

Sam didn't immediately reply, simply stirring his spoon and moving the cereal around in his bowl, while resting his head on the palm of his hand.

"Yeah, I guess so," came the lack luster reply. Frowning at the response, Dean put down his spoon and looked at Sam's downcast face.

"You guess so? I thought you'd be stoked Sammy. You've been talking about how excited you were to be going to school this fall, and now you're not? How come?" Dean waited patiently as he watched his five-year-old brother struggle to put into words what he wanted to say.

"I just… what if the other kids don't like me? What if they don't want to play with me Dean?" Sam asked quietly, his watery hazel eyes imploring a response from his big brother.

"Oh Sam… " Dean sighed, wondering how or where his kid brother came up with these ludicrous ideas.

"Don't worry about that Sammy. Of course the kids are going to like you. When they find out you're related to the coolest kid in school, they'll all be lining up to be your friend." Dean smirked, and was rewarded with the patented Sammy eye roll. Dean ruffled Sam's hair affectionately as he stood up and walked past him to place his bowl in the sink.

"Thanks Dean." Dean would have missed the quietly spoken words of gratitude, had he not been cleaning up the spilled milk on the counter not two feet away from his kid brother.

Dean smiled. Mission accomplished.

"Don't mention it Sammy. Now come on kiddo, hurry up and finish your breakfast. You don't want to be late for your first day do you?" That got the kid moving, and Sam gobbled his breakfast like he would Halloween candy. Jumping down from his chair, Sam hastily pushed the empty bowl into Dean's hands and ran back to his room, socked feet scampering down the hallway.

"Don't forget to brush your teeth!" Dean yelled over his shoulder as he finished washing the bowls and spoons and dried them off and stuck them back in the cupboard. Checking the clock hanging on the wall beside the fridge, Dean muttered a curse, and took off to go and make sure his kid brother really was brushing those teeth and to get himself ready before he made them both late for school.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dean walked through the bustling playground without a backward glance. He'd been to enough schools to know they all were pretty much the same. Sam, on the other hand, stayed close to Dean's side, not uttering a sound as they made their way to the school office. If the tightening grip on Dean's fingers was any indication, Sam was not too keen on being here.

"Come on Sam, let's go inside and get registered, okay?" Dean opened the large door and gently pushed his brother ahead of him into the school.

The interior walls were a sage color, peeling in some parts, and paint chips falling off in other areas. Navy blue lockers lined the hallway to their left, with dull gray carpeting covering every hallway they past on their way to the main office, just down the hall and to the right. Their shoes squeaked on the newly cleaned floor, echoing in the quiet corridor.

Finally reaching the counter, Dean waited till the overly dressed flower power woman got off the phone before he started asking for the papers his Dad had told him to get for both he and his brother.

The "flower lady" as Dean had dubbed her, ushered them both into the office and onto a cushioned bench while she gathered the paperwork needed to complete their registration. She quickly printed off the forms and gave them to Dean with instructions to give to their Dad for him to sign. Dean merely jammed them into the bottom of his backpack without a glance at the sheets.

Sam fidgeted in the seat next to Dean, playing with his backpack straps and pulling on the frayed edges of his jeans. Anything to keep the anxiety down, though the action did not go unnoticed.

The bell rang over head, and Sam jumped in his seat at the sound. Dean merely nudged his brother's shoulder and gave him a pointed a look. Sam gave a weak smile, and let out a shaky sigh and settled down.

An adjacent door opened and a plump blond woman in a purple vest and skirt walked out and stood in front of the brothers.

"So you must be Dean and Samuel." She looked pointedly at both boys. Sam squirmed under the scrutiny beside him and Dean shifted ever so slightly so that he was somewhat in front of the woman and Sam covertly behind him.

"No offense Ma'am, but it's Sam. Sam's only ever called Samuel when he's in trouble." Dean could feel the look of gratitude his brother had given him just out of the corner of his eye. The woman merely nodded in understanding.

"I'll be sure to mention it to his teacher. Welcome to Jefferson Elementary. I'm Mrs. Hail. If you'll both follow me, I'll show you where your classrooms are located." The boys quietly followed Mrs. Hail, going down one hallway, and past another. Finally, she stopped in front of a beige door at the end of the hallway, and knocked on the door.

"Sam, sweetie, this is your classroom. They'll be doing arts and crafts in a little while. Mrs. Campbell will help get you settled in class." Mrs. Hail smiled reassuringly at the boys.

Sam was hiding behind Dean's right side, keeping Dean between himself and the door.

Dean gently pushed his brother forward, keeping a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder as the classroom door opened and a young petite brunette appeared, topped with a light blue shirt and black skirt that just passed her knees. She introduced herself to both boys, and motioned for Sam to come into the classroom with her. Sam's hazel eyes locked on with Dean's emerald green ones, his eyes expressing his fear and uncertainty.

"It'll be okay Sammy. I'll come grab ya after class, okay?" Sam mutely nodded, and allowed the teacher to take his hand and take him into the classroom. He looked back over his shoulder and glanced at Dean, an imploring look that screamed, 'I want you to stay'. Dean bit his lip to keep from calling his brother back as the door closed behind them.

The principal then motioned for him to follow and Dean shuffled quietly behind her, his gaze focused on the carpeted floor.

It was an irrational fear he was feeling, he told himself. Sam would be fine. It's only school, and Sam would be safe with his teacher and classmates. But the teacher didn't know what Sam's favorite activities were. She didn't know that Sam liked to draw with green and blue crayons, or that his kid brother already knew the alphabet and his numbers up to 100. Or that his favorite snack was cheese melts, and his favorite drink was apple juice.

Dean was so preoccupied with his thoughts he almost ran into the back of Mrs. Hail as she stopped in front of room number 205. She quickly and quietly ushered him in, and he felt 15 or so pairs of eyes staring at him.

Dean raised his head and said nothing, a look of stoicism, that was merely that; a look. He couldn't deny that it was a little intimidating having everyone stare at you like some kind of foreign object. Like a bug under a microscope.

A man appeared next to Mrs. Hail, and introduced himself as Mr. Marlin.

His new teacher smelled of stale cigarettes, wore miss-matched clothing, and graying hair that was rapidly disappearing on his balding head. He asked Dean to find a seat while he continued to chat with the principal in hushed voices, the class chatter drowning out the teachers' conversation.

Dean sauntered over to a desk at the back and dropped his bag by the side of the desk and sat down in the cold chair. Mrs. Hail turned on her heels and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Mr. Marlin went to the front of the class and started writing on the board, the screech of the chalk filling the now quiet room.

Mr. Marlin put the chalk down, and reached over and grabbed the stack of papers off his desk and started handing out outlines for class rules and regulations to each student. Dean let out a long suffering sigh. This is what he'd returned to after two months of relative peace… if you call moving every two weeks peace, with Dad taking off on hunts at every town they stayed in longer than a quick pit stop at a motel for the night. But he didn't mind. He had his family, and that's all he could ask for.

Dean could vaguely hear his teacher going on about fire and earthquake drills, but he paid no attention. Dean rested his head on his desk. His thoughts switched over to Sam. He wondered what Sam was up to, and how he was fairing in his class. He wondered if he was scared, or if his shy 5-year-old sibling had made a friend? Was Sam enjoying his class time? Hating it? All these thoughts rattled around in Dean's mind, until a few papers were slapped down in front of his face as his teacher went by him, startling him out of his thoughts.

Dean groaned. It was going to be a long morning…

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dean watched the clock anxiously as the hand made its way to the 12 position. His classmates were all busy writing in their journals about their summer vacation. Dean snorted at the thought of actually writing about his vacation. Yeah, Dad leaving to hunt three poltergeists, one water spirit, a grouchy old bag that was actually a witch, and two belligerent spirits to top off the summer hunts. Yeah, that would surely get him top marks.

Of course, Sam didn't know about any of the hunts their father went on, and Dean hoped it would stay that way for as long as possible. He didn't want to take away his brother's innocence like it had been ripped away from him when Mom died. No, he would shield Sam from that knowledge as best he could, for as long as he could.

Staring up at the clock, Dean counted down the seconds until the bell rang, shoving his papers and books into his backpack, zipping it closed, and throwing it over his shoulder as he dashed out of the room, intent on finding Sam and heading home.

Dean dogged kids left, right, and center making his way back to Sam's classroom, as kids nosily and forcefully made their way out of the building and on their way home.

Finally reaching the classroom door, Dean walked in, fully expecting his brother to be waiting at the door, only to find the teacher putting away reading books on one of the shelves in the other corner of the room. No tell tale brown mop of hair, no little kid brother with expressive hazel eyes, worn out shoes and the too large green backpack the kid had hauled with him for the past month where ever they went. Dean's mouth was suddenly very dry and panic blossomed in the pit of his stomach as he moved farther into the classroom and approached Sam's teacher.

"Uh.. Mrs. Campbell, have you seen my brother Sam? He was supposed to wait here for me to come pick him up…" The teacher looked up at his words, and placed the books on the edge of one of the desks and paused as if in thought.

"Sam left with all the other students to go outside. I assume he's waiting for you there. But I'll check the hallways and office and see if anyone has seen him, alright?" She smiled at him before gently patting his shoulder and leaving him alone in the classroom. Dean turned on his heels and headed out into the hallway and out the doors to the playground to see if Sam was out there somewhere waiting for him.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dean had checked all the playground equipment, including the two slides near the end of the gate on the west side of the building. Panic was overriding all of Dean's senses as he fought down the urge to cry at the utter helplessness of the situation. Sam was supposed to be safe at school, not dragged off somewhere, or lost or God knows what.

Dean stuttered to a halt on the loose gravel under his feet as he heard a faint call in the distance. Frantic eyes scanned the still crowded playground and Dean looked among the crowd for any sight on his brother, but still he couldn't see him.

Listening, he could hear someone yelling again, and this time it sounded like a name. Moving closer to the front gate, Dean strained his neck to see if he could spot Sam anywhere, but without success, that is, until he heard his name being yelled clear across the playground.

"Deeeeeean!" There was Sam, his little legs kicking up dirt and stones as he ran full speed towards his brother, his arms out wide like he was trying to fly or catch one of the birds in the store parking lot a few blocks from their house. Dean was certain something had attacked him, or was coming after him, it was the only explanation he could come up with that would explain his brother's… smile? Dean didn't have time to process that train of thought as he knelt down to Sam's level and his brother launched himself at Dean, wrapping his small arms tightly around Dean's neck and breathing heavily against Dean's shirt. Dean hugged his brother tight to his chest, the worry and fright bleeding out of him all in quick succession. Giving another tight hug, Dean let his brother go and held Sam at arms length and looked at him questioningly.

"You hurt anywhere Sammy? Did something happen in class?" Dean was still baffled by Sam's behavior and Sam giggling and shaking his head at the question only confused him further.

"No Dean. We were busy all morning in class, doing crafts and making paintings and drawings to hang in the classroom. I made one of me and you and Daddy in the Impala Dean! Do you want to see it?" Sam was practically bouncing on the spot, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Dean couldn't help but grin at Sam's enthusiasm.

"Yeah dude, let me see it." Sam grinned at him and slipped out of his backpack and let it drop to the ground, and pulled the zipper back and dug around in his backpack, pulling out a slightly crumpled sheet of white paper, and handed it to Dean.

There was the Impala, in all her glory drawn in a decidedly unsteady hand, with two small blue stick figures and one tall green one standing in front of it. The taller of the blue ones with what looked like spiky yellow hair and the other with brown squiggles on top of its head. The green one was standing beside the front of the Impala, with what looked like a bag of salt at its feet, and black squiggles for hair. Sam's quiet voice had Dean looking up from the picture in his hand.

"You think Dad will like it Dean?" Sam looked unsure, biting his lower lip and casting wary eyes on his brother. Dean chuckled, and ruffled Sam's hair affectionately before standing to his full height.

"It's awesome dude. Of course Dad's going to like it. We'll hang it up on the fridge when we get home so Dad can see it when he gets back, okay?" Sam's broad dimpled smile was his answer and Dean couldn't help but smile back, as Sam shrugged on his backpack again.

Over his shoulder, he saw Mrs. Campbell coming out of the school building, and searching the crowd. She spotted them, and he waved his acknowledgment at her, and she disappeared back into the school. Dean turned around, tugged on Sam's sleeve until he had Sam's full attention.

"Sam, why did you leave the classroom? I told you to wait there and I would come and get you. Next time, just wait there and I'll pick you up, okay?" Dean tried to keep his voice light, but today had really scared him.

Sam squirmed, not liking to be scolded by his big brother.

"I'm sorry Dean. Tony and Matt wanted to go on the swings before they went home and I didn't see you right away, and I… I wasn't sure you'd come back." The last few words were whispered, as Sam kept his focus on the dusty ground. Dean sucked in a breath. How could Sam think that he would leave him there, alone? Dean crouched down and waited till Sam raised his eyes to meet Dean's.

"Why would you think that Sammy?" Dean waited while his brother shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked everywhere but at Dean. Finally, watery eyes met his, and Sam spilled out one of his darkest fears.

"It's just… Dad leaves all the time, and I never know when he'll be back, or if he'll come back, Dean. I just… I wasn't sure if it was something I did, and that maybe you'd leave too because I did something wrong." Sam's eyes swung back to look at the ground and Dean bit his lip to keep in tears that he hadn't cried since his mother died. Dean tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. God, what was this life doing to his little brother, where he thinks his family will just up and abandon him?

Dean rested his hand on Sam's shoulder and waited till his brother looked at him again, feeling his insides twist as he saw tears brimming the edges of his little brother's eyes, threatening to fall.

"Sammy, listen to me when I tell you this. Dad's always going to come back. He's not going to leave us and not come back and look after us. Dad's busy at work, you know that. And…"

"But Dad doesn't take care of us because he's working all the time! You look after me; make sure that I brush my teeth, and eat my breakfast, and you make us both dinner, and you make sure I go to bed on time. Dad doesn't do that very often anymore." Sam stuttered out, falling silent after his outburst.

Dean had to marvel at Sam's perceptiveness. Yeah, Dad was busy, but he was hunting the bad things that hid in the shadows out there. So yeah, Dean helped out at home, making sure Sammy was happy and healthy to the best of his ability. It was his job, and he was happy and content to look after his baby brother. It gave him a sense of purpose and responsibility, and he prided himself in being able to care for and look after Sam. He certainly wasn't about to pawn his little brother off on the first doorstep he ran across.

"Sam, Dad may not always be around, but I promise you, we won't take off without you. I won't take off without you, alright?" Dean watched as Sam unconsciously scratch his arm where a red welt from a mosquito bite had appeared, trying to come to an understanding about what Dean was telling him. A few moments later, Sam muttered something under his breath, and Dean had to strain to hear what he was saying.

"You promise Dean, that you won't leave me behind?" Sam held Dean's gaze and waited for an answer. Dean smiled, before once again, standing up and adjusting his hold on his backpack.

"I promise you Sammy, that I won't leave you behind. Don't ever doubt it." Sam beamed up at him, and Dean smiled back, and pushed his brother ahead of him, and out through the gates and back towards home.

"How about we stop off at the bakery when Dad gets back and pick up a treat for tonight, huh buddy? I'll even let you pick." Sam grinned, and bounced with excitement down the street, until a wickedly grinning Dean added, "But I get to pick the movie!"

Sam groaned. "Deeeeean!"

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Dean was brought out of his thoughts as his brother opened the door and deposited himself in his seat, slamming the door closed.

"You remember the cream?" Dean asked, his brain trying to catch up with the present, and not getting stuck in the past. Sam shot him an annoyed look, and handed him a coffee before taking a sip of his own. Dean took a slurp of his, letting the hot liquid burn a trail down his throat. Hot and full of cream, just the way he liked it. Starting the car, and pulling out back onto the highway, Sam broke the silence.

"You know, there's a priestess in Idaho who may have a lead to help us get you out of your deal." Sam stared at the floor, not sure how Dean would take that information. After all, Dean could change his mind on a dime, if the situation called for it. They hadn't really broached the subject of saving Dean from his demon deal since Pittsburgh.

Dean kept his gaze on the road in front of him, casting a sideways glance at his brother, before mustering up a response.

"Yeah, we can stop in and take a look around. We don't have any hunts on the radar at the moment. A day or two won't hurt." Dean ignored Sam's shocked and relieved look and cranked up the music, "Nothing Else Matters" booming out of the speakers. Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat, casting furtive glances at Sam, amused that Sam was chuckling quietly at Dean's steering-wheel-turned-drum-set as he matched the drummer's beats perfectly.

Dean stepped on the gas pedal and floored it, heading towards Idaho. The lady might not know anything, but Dean wasn't going to let that dictate the journey. They still had just over 3 months left to find a way out, and Dean had a promise to keep. And he never was one for breaking promises.

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A/N: Hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you think.