A/N: First story...really hope I didn't screw it up! And in case you dont know, im in love with limp!Sam but unfortunately this is a fluff, for my writing skills cease to let me write something dramatic when I'm in a good mood from just baking brownies and not failing miserably.

Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural I would be rich, famous, and would have put in at least two more hugs.

Dean 17/18, Sam 14.

I Can't Cook

Dean had just gotten to the front door of the latest and greatest crappy motel. Once again in a new school, and once again coming home from a fight with two of the senior football jocks. Looking at girls wasn't a given to new kids apparently, so if the new kid did then the jocks would give them hell to pay.

Jocks apparently lived for unfair fights and after the first five minutes it was six of the jackasses against one Dean. Needless to say Dean put up a fight but he had lost, hurting his ego more than his knuckles.

Just to make matters worse, Sam had gone home early without a word, the door seemed to be jammed again, and their dad had left a week ago and promised to be back Thurday. It was Sunday, and they were out of the money their dad had given them. It was also Dean's birthday.

Their family didn't celebrate brithdays anymore though. Or at least, that's what John Winchester must have thought because Dean couldn't reacall the last time his dad celebrated his or Sammy's. Above all Dean always made an effort to celebrate his kid brother's birthday, just to let Sam know that it was a day worth celebrating. At least to Dean it always would be.

Dean finally gave the door a hard shove with his shoulder and got the thing to open. He threw his backpack on the ground and had his head down, already starting off to his and Sam's shared room when he stopped in the bedroom's doorway.

What is that smell?

Then there was what sounded like a gunshot from the kitchen. Immediatly Dean's hunting skills were put into gear and he turned abruptly away from the doorway and expected the worse.

Don't be sulphur. Or a corpse. Dear god Sammy better be ok or I'm going t-

He didn't even notic he was running until he stopped and stared at the sight in front of him and tried to hold back a laugh.

Sam was rubbing furiously at his eyes, trying to get the brown gunk away. He shook his head and reached blindly towards the rag on the counter and tried to wipe most of it away.

Dean came up behind him and put his hand on the bony shoulder, making the kid whip around.

"Dean! W-why are you home so early?" Sam questioned.

Dean smiled and was about to answer that it was time for him to be home and school ended an hour ago, but he noticed something smoking slightly from behind Sam.

He pushed Sam gently to the side and took a look at the microwave. It was covered in the same brown slimy stuff as Sam's face and smoking slightly with the door ajar.

"What'cha been up to Sammy?" It was unusual for Sam to be in the kitchen alone, let alone using the microwave.

Sam looked down."I..I was trying to make brownies...but the microwave's possessed or something..."

Dean had his mouth open to tease his little brother to no end when a shiny glimmer caught his eye and he moved some of the brown gunk away to find...foil?

"Hey Betty Crocker, you didn't make the brownies with foil, did you?" Dean joked and arched his eyebrow at Sam who was looking at him as if he were ridiculous.

"Yeah. Isn't that how you're supposed to do it?"

Dean was taken aback by Sam's response.

Sammy's supposed to be the smart one! Doesn't he know not to use foil in a microwave?! What if it had ACTUALLY blown up! His face could've been taken off or something! Dean angrily thought as he let his emotions out with words.

"Damnit Sammy, you cant put that in the microwave! That shit explodes! What if your face had been by it or something?!"

"I was trying to make them for your birthday..."

Dean immediatly stopped fuming and looked at his little brother. Sam had the puppy dog eyes on full-force and Dean just couldn't be mad at the kid.

"Dude, you can't even operate an easy bake oven. Don't try to use a microwave."

"I swear there's something wrong with the microwave!"

Dean smiled a little. Sam's big hazel eyes and mop head looked pretty funny with brownie gunk all over his face and in his hair.

"Whatever. Come on, I'll help you clean up."

After some cleaning (and whining on Sam's part because the exploing brownie mix wouldn't come out of his hair without a fight,) Dean sighed and splayed out on the couch. So far his birthday seemed to be pretty eventful.

Sam sat down by him, freshly showered.

"Sorry Dean. I just wanted to make your birthday better since I heard what happened at school and dad hasn't been home-"

Dean put his hand up and stopped him. "Hey, I have an idea. C'mon."

Dean headed out with Sam trailing slightly behind. "Where are we goin'?"

"You'll find out." Dean smirked.

They drove for about ten minutes or so when Sam's eyes bugged out of his head.

The other day on the way home he had found an old field about ten minutes away from the motel they were staying in. It was nothing special, but it didn't have any fences and you could just drive out and park.

Dean had gotten out first and went to the trunk, leaving Sam to look out over the field as the sun had already set and the night sky was above.

Dean grabbed a beer for him and soda for Sam out of the trunk. He walked over to the hood of the impala and sat down, looking over at his little brother who seemed to be utterly amazed at the sky.

"Look out Sammy, you're face will be stuck like that if you're not careful."

"Shuddup." Sam muttered without any real heat as he jumped on the hood too.

God, is this kid ever going to grow? He's a friggin' beanpole.

He pushed the thought aside before he handed Sam his soda and they both looked up at the night sky for what seemed to be like forever. Dean's thoughts wandered and he thought about all his past birthdays and what he had done for Sam's so far. He glanced over at said Mop Head and noticed how he was practically falling asleep.

Sam needed to get one thing out before he drifted away. "Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I cannot cook."

"Well gee, where'd you get that idea." Dean snorted as he saw the big puppy dog eyes slowly closing for the last time tonight.

"Just wanted you to know that you're my personal chef and I am never making you anything ever again."

"Well thank goodness for that."

After there little conversation Sam finally went to sleep and accidentally dropped his empty soda on the ground.

Dean decided he better hit the hay too, but before he could fall asleep one last thought went through his mind.

Sam isn't going to sprout up and be taller than me, right?

He dismissed the idea. Nah. The universe can't possibly be that cruel.

A/N: Well that's it. It was just something that popped into my head while I was baking brownies. Just like Sam, I cant cook and I'm waiting to see how my baking skills are going to turn out.

Hope this story didn't turn out horrible! Review if you can, it would mean the world to me! :)

Stay Lovely, -L.B.