I haven't really done a Weechester fic before, and I've been reading so much of them lately I kind of want to write one lol.

Edit: I am planning on updating my other stories, especially my stories like Powerless and Captive and Wild By Nature. I have not forgotten them!

Prologue
11 year old Dean placed a cold cloth on his younger brother's forehead. Since their father had left them alone yet again Sam had developed a fever and chills. Dean had thought about telling his father but realized that Sam most likely had some sort of flu virus. It would be foolish to call John over something that Dean had already dealt with before. He had taken care of Sam when he had the chicken pox and when their father was too unglued he had taken care of infant Sam when Sammy had the croop. This would be no different.

Sam was moaning in his feverish sleep. Dean rushed over to his brother, worry in his eyes. Even though Sam could be a pain in the ass Dean still hated it when he saw him in pain.

"Sammy?"

Sam twisted in his sleep. Through his incoherent mumblings Dean recogizned one word.

"Mommy"

Dean froze as he heard Sam whisper that name. He swallowed and shook Sam's shoulder.

"Sammy?"

Sam moaned in response. His face was twisted up in fear and pain and confusion.

"Sam!" Dean's voice was harsh when he spoke now, determined to snap his brother out of it.

Sam's eye's snapped open and he looked around in a dazed manner. His hair was soaking in sweat and so was his clothes and bed. He stared at his older brother.

"Dean?" He whispered weakly and groggily.

"Yeah Sammy." Dean managed to relax his breathing.

"Where's mommy?" Sam's voice sounded desperate and weaker than usual. "I want mommy."

"You...you can't have mommy Sammy." Dean tried to hide the hurt in his voice.

"Why not? Where is she?"

"She...she's gone."

"Gone where?" Sam's eyes flashed nervously. "Was she mad? Did she leave cause she was mad at us? At me?"

"What?" Dean's eyes stared sharply into his younger brother's face. "Where did you think of something like that?"

"Don't know..."Sam mumbled. "Why isn't she here, if she's not mad at us?"

Dean hesitated. John had told him only to talk about Mary on a need to know bases. John had never exactly come out and told Sam that his mother was dead. Sam had always just grown up without one.

"She's...she just can't come back Sammy."

"Why not?" Sam looked confused. "Doesn't she want to? Doesn't she love us?"

Dean closed his eyes. He wanted to tell Sam the truth, that their mother was dead. But he didn't want to right than and there. Not when Sammy was sick like this.

"She loves you Sammy, she loves both of us. She just can't come back home."

"Is she lost?" Confusion flickered in 7 year old Sam's face.

"Something like that," sighed Dean.

"We should find her," Sam insisted weakly, the fever still growing. "We should bring her home...for daddy...that would make him happy."

Dean swallowed back the tears again.

"Not now Sammy, you're sick. You should go back to sleep."

Sam nodded agreeably, clearly already exhausted again.

"You...you're not leaving...are you?" He asked desperstly and Dean managed to smile.

"No Sammy, I'm not leaving you. I'll be here when you wake up."

Sam nodded tiredly and Dean suggested for him to move to the next bed so he could change the sheats. Sam slowly and weakly walked over to the bed with Dean's help. Quickly he sank into the new fresh seats comfortably and rolled over on the side.

When he did so Dean slowly started to message his brother's shoulders until Sam sank back into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Dean sighed. These kinds of conversations with Sam was exhausting, answering all these questions. Sam never seemed to tire about asking whey they lived like they did, whey they did this and that and so forth. Even John noticed how curious Sam was and warned Dean not to answer too much. That Sam wasn't ready to know yet.

He watched his brother sigh deeply in his sleep for a few moments. Finally he flicked on the television set to watch some mindless cartoons. As he did, though, he jumped at the banging of the door as it was broken open. He went to grab the gun that was nearby but as he picked it up he felt a gun on his own head and a low voice telling him to drop it. He stared at the other person in a mask who was pointing a gun at his sleeping brother and fearfully he obeyed. As they ordered him to walk out of the room and picked up his brother he never took his eyes off of Sammy knowing that he had to protect his baby brother...no matter what.

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