It's my first story in Supernatural that I dared publish, my first story in English and my first story here. Quite a lot of first times.

Please, tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Dean! Nor Sam for that matter. Actually, I really don't own anything Supernatural.

~~*~~

THIS TOWN

"This town is SO getting on my nerves," said Dean, watching local girls talking to local guys – lucky owners of really big – and new - cars and really small brains. No one here seemed to understand the word classic.

Sam just shook his head and went on walking through the local park. Good-looking mothers were watching their nice-clothed children and gossiping about all the great garden parties they had been to recently and nice jobs their husbands had.

"Oh, I do hate this town," added Dean, feeling a bit ignored.

Sam just murmured, without turning to his brother, "I kind of like it".

"Come on, Sam. Chicks here are awful!"

"Not all of them are bad. Unless you define awful as 'not jumping into your bed'."

"Yeah, that's the definition." Sam snorted. "And what do you mean by 'not all of them are bad'? Are some of them not bad, huh, Sammy?"

"Don't call me Sammy."

"Ok, so there is. What's her name?"

"There isn't any girl, Dean, I just hate your generalizations. And your attitude. And you."

Yeah, there definitely was a girl in Sam's life. Wow.

"Sam, you know we will leave this town soon, don't you? Better not to start anything you will be sorry to leave behind."

Sam didn't say anything for a while.

"Sam?"

Finally he looked at Dean with a heartbreaking impossible hope in his eyes.

"Dad has a lot of jobs around here. Maybe just a few more weeks?"

~~*~~

Dean and John were working in silence, the only sound coming from guns they were cleaning.

"I've packed a few bags. You'll do the rest of it. We are leaving tomorrow, I want you ready the moment I come back from this job," said the older guy, while he was finishing with the last shotgun from the impressive arsenal laying on a table. "And make sure Sam packs all his things. I hope he won't cause any trouble this time, I'm tired of his whims."

Dean remembered Sam's hopeful eyes and – as much as he hated this goddamned town – decided he would rather stay. Now it was only about convincing Dad. What can be easier? Well, apart from everything?

Dean was desperately trying to come up with some idea how to achieve his impossible goal. Finally he decided on a lie: "Dad, I think I might have heard about a possible job a few hours from here. It wouldn't hurt to check. Better not to leave anything behind your back, you know." After all, he could find a job somewhere near.

"Son, there always is something that might be a possible hunt in the few hours' drive radius. The point is to go only after those leads, that are worth it."

"Yes, dad, I know." Shit. Well, he did try.

"Great, than pack your bag. Today get into your car what you can live without. Rest in the morning. And I don't want to wait for any of you tomorrow. I am tired of this town."

"Tell me about it," snorted Dean, while putting the weapons in the duffel bag. He will have to tell Sam they are going, Dad conveniently won't be there for this crisis. At least he honestly tried. If only Sam could appreciate it instead of pulling the puppy eyes act again. Or worse, the resigned look. Somehow, Dean couldn't get rid of hopeful one his brother gave him last afternoon. He felt like he was screwing up. Not everybody hates this town.

"Maybe we should stay." No sooner had he said it, than he realized that now all the hell will brake loose. And he knew this from experience, and not only Sam's - not making a fuss about everything like his brother did didn't mean he had never stated his own opinion himself.

"What?" John halted middle-step. "You suggestin' we shouldn't hit the road yet?"

"Sam will be disappointed."

"Then I'm glad he isn't the one calling the shots here. I want you both ready tomorrow morning. End of discussion."

Dean wanted to turn away and get to packing - it was a really crappy town after all - but this look on his brother's face was still hunting him.

"Do you even care?" he fired without thinking, again.

"Care about what?"

"Sam."

"What the hell are you talking about? Of course I care about you boys, you are my sons!"

"So you did notice how badly Sam takes this lifestyle?"

"Your brother tantrums won't change who we are and what the world is. They won't save any lives either."

"But your not being so stubborn can make the life of a person better. Maybe it should mean something if that person is your son. The boy spends most of his life as the new one and he hates it. But you don't really give a damn."

"You sayin' I don't care? You are crossin' a line, boy! And your brother needs to finally understand that he can't always get what he wants. Nursing his whims won't make him any good."

"Don't make it look like it was about him. Don't act as if you were a concerned parent." Dean was getting bitter, he knew it, but it was all too far gone now. "You don't even know him anymore."

"What have you said, boy?" John was close to hissing now, his anger almost filling the room and Dean knew he had to back off. Someone had to be an adult in this family.

"Dad, I know that that you are saving lives and that it is more important than Sam having friends. It's just – I'm sorry for him. He really wants to be normal. He'll never be."

Dean didn't expect the sad look his father gave him. There was silence for a while, before John finally spoke:

"Well, I guess the boy will learn that he can't have everything one day anyway. And maybe he needs to have a bit of a life." His voice turn stern again. "Just to know what are we fighting for."

"Thanks, Dad. He will really appreciate that, I'm sure."

John didn't look so convinced but only nodded and headed to the door. After all, there still were things which needed killing out there.

"Dean," he called from the doorstep "never doubt that I care about you. Any of you." And he disappeared into the night.

~~*~~

"We are leaving." Sam didn't ask. He just stated, looking like a bitten puppy. A heavily disappointed and pretty pissed off bitten puppy.

"What?" Dean didn't get at first what was his irritating little brother whining about this time.

"Dad's bags are packed. We are going the moment he comes back, aren't we?"

"No, we are not."

Sam expression was shocked. Not happy yet, not relieved, he seemed to be too much taken aback for that.

"I talked to Dad. We are staying here a little longer."

No more disappointed little puppy. Now it was just a pissed puffy.

"Wow, a nice little family fight on my behalf. Thanks, Dean".

Certainly, not the reaction Dean was counting for.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Dude, I'm fourteen. I don't need you to fight my fights anymore." Sam turned on the heel and went to his room. "Not that you've ever been any good at it," he added before slamming the door.

Maybe Dad knows Sam after all.

A/N: Thanks to Little Girl, who reviewed and pointed out some mistakes.

I love constructive criticism!