Hey there:)

Sometimes the weirdest things prompt plot bunnies and this one wouldn´t leave me alone.

A lot of thanks and virtual cookies go to Soncnica, who did an awesome job with betaing this, all remaining mistakes are mine alone.

Dean is 14 in this little story, which would make Sam 10 years old. Enjoy:)

They´ve been waiting for about two and a half hours now. Occasionally, someone would be called inside the examination rooms, but for most of the time, the white, double winged door stayed close. Dad had disappeared behind them half an eternity ago, but Dean wasn´t worried. He wasn´t.

It was nothing really, just a nasty cut from the last poltergeist hunt, where Dad managed to fall through a window and cut himself on the shattered glass. Even though he took care of it in his usual thorough way, it seemed to have gotten infected. Every morning he changed the bandage but somehow, there was no real healing visible. Dean knew his Dad was pissed by this totally unnecessary delay, especially since it was caused by something as mundane as a broken window. He had eventually brought up the idea to visit a doctor and received the expected: "What for? It´s not like I´m made of glass". He had made an effort not to laugh at that.

But after changing his bandage yet again this morning, six days after the hunt, and still not finding the desired improvement, his Dad finally saw reason.

If it had been one of them who was hurt like this, he wouldn´t have hesitated to pull out a fake insurance card and drive their asses to the next ER, but he seemed to consider himself indestructible. Not that Dean could really blame him, since he thought the same thing about his Dad most of his life. Not anymore, though. He was a man now, John starting to rely more and more on him on important things like hunts and research and as a reasonable adult he knew the danger that came with believing in immortality. John himself had told him that after the close call with a wendigo six months ago and Dean tried to take the lesson to heart.

When it came to himself, John was a little less willing to risk drawing attention to them by seeking official help, but he too lived according to his words, proved by the fact that they were sitting in this waiting room after all. To Dean´s surprise, he actually took it quite well, joking that a hospital might not even be that bad an idea, considering his only other option was Uncle Bobby - Sam still insisted on calling him that - and an open promise to amputate limbs that got hurt through "unnecessary idiocy" with one of his rustiest spoons. After that Dean spent most of the drive to the hospital reassuring Sammy that spoons were for eating only and that Bobby didn´t even have a single rusty spoon, since he drove the boys crazy with his house cleaning mania whenever they stayed with him. No matter what the rest of the place looked like, doomed was he who dared to leave one dirty diner plate in the sink. Probably his way of dealing with living in a junkyard.

Now, hours after arriving at the clinic, Sammy had finished reading all of last year´s celebrity magazines that covered the table in the waiting room and managed to solve three crossword puzzles, asking for Dean´s help only for the sports questions. Because somehow, he seemed to know everything else and was always exited to share with his big brother, who was now able to name three different Korean rivers and five antique European poets and learned that "otiose" was just a fancy term for "useless". He really didn´t want to know where Sam learned all this stuff. The kid could probably win every quiz show currently on TV and make them millionaires before they knew it. Or drive Dean crazy, bets where still open what would happen first. Right now though, Dean wouldn´t mind a little entertainment, because he already counted all the tiles on the ceiling – twice; there were 265 - and the last time someone in the pretty empty waiting room had moved at all had been half an hour ago, when the old lady with the would-be sprained ankle remembered she left her flat iron on and hurried out of the room with a speed that allowed even Dean to diagnose her health.

Sammy didn´t seem to mind the quiet much. He sat silently on the chair beside his big brother, his legs still dangling in the air even though he gained several inches in the last month. His eyes were fixed on the little aquarium that stood on a small table at the other side of the room. It was obviously placed there to spread an air of relaxation in the waiting room and entertain those who waited. In Dean´s case, neither worked very well, because one could only watch six little yellow fish swim from the right to the left and back so many times and Dad was really taking his sweet time in there. Sammy, on the other hand, seemed totally transfixed by the animals, following their every move with his eyes from under his brown fringe. Dean watched his brother watching the fishes for a moment and wondered what he might be thinking. Sam seemed to feel his gaze, because he turned to face Dean, an unreadable expression in his face. Dean didn´t mean to be caught staring, but when Sam met his gaze quizzically, he simply plastered his trademark smirk in his face and knew his little brother wouldn´t question him. Maybe it wasn´t fair using Sammy´s hero worship against him like that, but Dean had a sinking feeling that he wouldn´t be able to do so for much longer and figured it was his big-brother- right to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Breathtakingly thrilling, isn´t it?" He jerked his chin in the direction of the aquarium.

"Yes, you´re right."

The youngest Winchester hadn´t really grasped the concept of sarcasm yet. Or he was playing Dean, one couldn´t really be sure these days. But his face was serious when he continued.

"But also kinda sad."

Dean felt his muscles tense. Sammy had a view on life that he couldn´t really follow sometimes, and it left him unable to sooth a pain he didn´t understand and something told him they were nearing that territory again.

"Why?" He tried to keep the wariness out of his voice.

Sam turned back to watching the fishes, not looking at Dean when he answered. "It´s just, they will never leave this place, you know?" Not liking the turn this conversation was taking, the older Winchester answered: "But why would they want to? They´ve got everything they need in there. They have food and these funny little plants and pebbles and they have each other." Sam seemed to contemplate that, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip. When he spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "But there is so much more to this world than they can see. What if they would like to?"

Dean had a feeling they weren´t talking about the fishes anymore. Choosing his next words very carefully, he responded: "Try to see it the other way. In there, they know their way around. They´re protected. No other fish or human or anything can hurt them. In there, they can live safely." He led the gravity of his words sink in, knowing that Sam knew what he was really saying. It was silent for a few moments, before Sam looked at him again, eyes bright and full of something Dean couldn´t really place. "But maybe they wouldn´t mind the risk. Maybe they would be fine with facing danger if they could have a real life in return." There was a pleading edge to his brother´s voice and Dean suddenly felt himself suffocating in the implications of what he just heard. Clearing his throat forcefully he answered harsher than he intended: " There is no risk. They are fish. If they leave the aquarium, they will die." Hating himself for the stricken expression he´d put on his brother´s face he added more silently, nearly apologetic: "Some things just can´t be."

Sam nodded jerkily before looking down, his bangs successfully hiding his eyes. Dean stared at the fish that didn´t seem all that interested in the world on the other side of the glass and felt irrational anger at them for having prompted this conversation. The life their family had was fine. It was better than that of most people, who spent their whole existence in ignorance about the true nature of the world. All of them lived in their own little bubble of safety like the fish in the aquarium. And people like them, they were the glass. They protected those inside, kept them safe. Without them, everything would fall into pieces. How could Sam not see that? The glass was who they were; their purpose. There was nothing to find, nothing to gain beyond it.

How come he could only see the borders, feel caged within them rather than protected?

Dean nearly jumped when his brother suddenly spoke up again. "Maybe you´re right." Heartbreak fighting with a gratitude that made Dean feel guilty. "At least, they have each other. "

Dean swallowed and placed a hand on his little brother´s back, wanting to lift the feeling of hopelessness that suddenly seemed to surround him. But he knew that there was no real comfort he could offer here.

John returned to them a few minutes later and Sam was back to his usual, worrying and babbling self within second, but Dean hadn´t missed the last sorrowful glance he cast to the aquarium when they left the room. And he figured, that maybe, he could never look at the glass quite the same way again.

So, that would be it for now. Comments and thoughts are always appreciated: