Title: Easter Eggs

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester

Rating: K

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Summary: "After school we'll go to the store and get your stupid eggs as long as you promise not to tell dad, alright?"

Just a quick one shot for Easter...

"Aw c'mon dad!" the eight year old whined. "Everybody else says they're going to. Why can't I?"

"I already told you Sammy, we don't have the money. Besides, painting a couple of eggs is a waste of time – you need to be training, not painting, alright?"

"But I don't wanna train!" Sam yelled, his eyes filling with tears. "It's not fair! We never do anything fun," he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest and jutting out his lower lip.

"You don't have time for fun," John replied sternly. "Now go get ready for school."

"But-"

"No buts, Samuel. Dean is waiting so you need to grab your bag and move. Now."

Sam glared at his father but said no more -- he knew arguing with John Winchester was just a waste of time because no matter how much yelling and arguing he got in, he would always lose.

Sam walked down the sidewalk slowly, his feet barely lifting as he dragged them across the pavement slowly, one after the other: right, left, right. It was a continuous pattern, and to Dean Winchester, twelve years old and just about a teenager, any small annoyance such as a younger brother's sulking was bound to make him crazy – and he was just about there at this point, the scuffled dragging of Sam's feet mixed in with the fact that he had to go to school – he was a hunter, what exactly could he accomplish by sitting around all day and learning how to add two numbers together? But he was ready to snap because he wanted Sam to stop pouting and to walk properly, and he definitely didn't want to go to school. But he also knew that yelling at Sam would only make things worse, so he pushed his emotions aside as he came to a stop, turning quickly to warn Sam before he collided with him. Sam's head was down as he walked, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, feet still dragging across the cement – and he did almost run into Dean.

"Whoa, Sammy, watch it," Dean warned just in time, taking a step back as he spoke. The younger Winchester stopped immediately, looking up at Dean with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity in his features. "What?" he mumbled.

"Just listen," Dean ordered. "Okay?"

"Come on Dean, we're gonna be late," Sam replied, moving to walk again. Dean put a hand on his shoulder, momentarily surprised at how tall Sam was becoming – he was now only about a head shorter than himself – then began speaking again. "I got some money left over from my last game. After school we'll go to the store and get your stupid eggs as long as you promise not to tell dad, alright?"

Sam looked up at Dean, a huge grin plastered across his face, eyes shining with excitement. "Really? I can paint-"

"Yeah, now shut up about it and get moving – we're gonna be late."

Sam headed off again, this time with a bounce in his step as he went, easily gaining distance ahead of Dean. Dean smiled, knowing he would probably get in trouble once Dad did find out(Sam never could keep a secret, no matter how hard he tried) yet he didn't care. Sam was still only eight and deserved to spend Easter like every other kid out there. And Dean would make sure that Sam would get the exact same treatment on every holiday afterwards, because he deserved to have a normal childhood, just like everybody else.