Growing Up

-One Shot-

5-25-06

Summary: Dean realizes how much Sam has grown.

Dedidcated to:

In loving memory of Sebastian, my next door neighbor who was just found recently dead on his living room floor, he had been dead for about three days (well police don't know how he died or when)…God Bless you Sebastian.

Sebastian was only 42, rode his bike often, and was in great shape. Mom and I would play small tricks on him, like blocking off his driveways so he couldn't park his car, and he would throw tomatoes at us in our back yard. There is nobody who can be as good as a neighbor as he. God Bless you! We love you Sebastian! No one else took in strays like he did. My God he loved every one of them!

We love you Sebastian. You are one of a kind.

( and Kyo-san my fish, who I recently had to flush!)

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The car was silent…

Just the way he always liked it…

The thick book sat in his lap…

Along with a flashlight to read it with…

But no light shone. No book was opened, and no smile was on the boy. The boy frowned, his eyes gazing out the window. Dean, his brother, had been coughing and sneezing all day, his forehead had been all nice and warm, yet his father demanded that he come along on the hunt. His brother had the flu, but nothing was being done about it.

Sam rested his head upon the head rest. He was worried terribly about his elder brother. He hated it when Dean pushed himself further than he could go. Of course the boy had read the story The Little Engine that Could. The boy got the idea, you have to keep going, and no matter what you'll reach your goal. Or something like that. But at some point that engine goes weak, or turns off entirely. You can only push yourself so far. The twelve-year-old knew well enough that Dean's engine was nearly out of gas, with this flu weakening him so. An engine can't run without gas.

Sam opened the door to the passenger side of the old truck and slipped out. He needed some fresh air. His father wouldn't even let him roll down the windows. When Sam had worried about his older brother his father fought with him all the way.

"Dad he needs to rest!" Sam hissed at his father

"Sam! I am your father, ok. I will decide who can hunt and who won't." His father held a threatening finger.

"But you don't care about us Dad!" Sam yelled, tears were fighting to fall. He didn't want his brother hurt.

John acted fast. He pinned his boy to the hotel wall. "Don't you ever say that. I love both of you. That is why I want the boy to come with me. The quicker we get done with this the more research we can do for your mother."

"dad that isn't doing anything for us. All you care about is hunting; all you care about is bagging your prize. Mom is gone, I'm sorry I didn't know her, I wish I did. But can't we be a family once in a while? Can't we just rest from this stupid hobby?" Sam said the tears finally coming out.

"Its not a hobby!" John hissed. The boy was trying to get on his nerves… "Sam you understand very well why we are doing this! We are doing this to avenge your mother. You realize that if she didn't die then you would have…"

"Fine then let me come with you on the hunt!" Sam hissed

"No! You are too young and inexperienced." John hissed at his younger brother.

"Dean was younger than me when he started hunting." Sam yelled.

"Well you see, you don't know how to hunt half as well as your brother. And your still my baby boy!" John said.

"I'm twelve years old! I'm not your baby!" Sam yelled.

"Your not going and that is final!"

Dean walked back into the room with the coke that his father had asked for. "Got the coke for you dad…wait did you two just have another fight?"

"Your wrong!" Sam shouted and pulled out of his fathers hold. "And you know that dad! You know that!"

Dean frowned and held back his brother before he could go out the hotel door. "Sam! Wait!"

Sam wrenched away from his hold to and ran out the door. This was unfair. Dean didn't need to go.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard Dean ask Dad.

"Well, he doesn't think you should go on the hunt. He's worried about you Dean." His father replied.

Sam heard a loud sigh before deciding to run out further, he needed to find a quiet place.

Sam glanced around the empty field and gave out a lazy sigh. He leaned up against the truck. Suddenly a chill went down his back. He jolted up and looked around at his surroundings. Something was walking pretty briskly in his direction. Sam got this bad feeling, what ever was coming didn't seem good. The boy took a deep breath and gathered his bearings.

"If it doesn't feel good, then it is most likely bad."

Dean had told him this when he first was left in the car for the hunts. He was worried deeply about his younger brother being safe without him around. And now Sam didn't feel good about whatever was coming his way.

Sam made his way back into the truck and locked both doors. He rolled up the windows nice and tight, and pulled out the gun that his father kept in the side pocket of the car. It was a small '45 one that he kept for just-in-case.

He shivered as a dark figure made its way out of the trees and heading toward the car. He fingered the gun nervously. Suddenly the face of his brother, Dean, was in the window banging and yelling for him to open the door. Sam reached for the door but paused. This didn't feel right, he knew that if he opened the door then he might regret it. But it was his brother for goodness sake. What could his brother do?

"Dean?" Sam cautiously asked out the window. He got loud responses back telling him to open the door NOW! "But Dean you told me-'' Sam was interrupted by his brother who cursed and banged harder this time.

"Sam, open this door now! I need to get in it! NOW!" Dean yelled.

"My brother doesn't yell at me!" Sam said backing up slowly in his seat. "You're the shape-shifter aren't you?"

"Shape-shifter? No me and dad caught him a little while ago, I just need you to open the door." Dean hissed.

"Oh yeah! Then what is the password that you told me to listen to?" Sam frowned.

Dean cursed. "Just open the door."

"Dean would know what the password is." Sam frowned deeper.

His brother suddenly smiled a dark little smile. Sam didn't like it at all. It made him feel deeply uncomfortable. Dean raised the gun that he had held in his hand and shot through the window. Sam knew now that it wasn't his brother. It was the shape-shifter. Sam managed to duck in time just to avoid a bullet in his head. He pounced on the man's hand sliding around to open the door through the now broken window, and bit it hard.

"ARRRRRRGGGGG!" The man hissed in pain. He pulled back his hand and was surprised to see that blood had appeared.

Sam smiled showing his just put on braces. They may be annoying but they can scrape someone's skin pretty bad. Now Dean couldn't make fun of his braces anymore.

"You're an annoying little bastard aren't you?" 'Dean' hissed, before Sam could react the man had his hand pushing the button that unlocked all the doors.

"NO!" Sam yelled.

'Dean' opened the door and waved his gun around in the little boys face. "Now, where are the keys?"

"What keys?" The boy asked innocently.

"You know the keys that your father gave you to keep safe. And by the way put the gun back in the pocket that your father keeps it in. Its for emergencies only." The man said.

"This is an emergency." Sam hissed holding the gun tightly in his hand.

"Leave the deciding of that to Oprah." The man smiled.

"You watch Oprah?"

"Your brother does…"

"Wow two disturbing things today…" Sam closed his eyes. "You know I didn't need to know that…"

"Now give me the gun you little bastard!"

"You have you've used 'bastard' twice. You need to use a new name now!" Sam said.

"Fine, Give me the gun you little piece of shit!"

"DAD!" Sam yelled.

"WHAT?" The shape-shifter called out in surprise.

Sam took his moment. The stalling worked. He propelled himself out of the passenger window glass flew around him as he fell to the ground. He heard the shape-shifter cry out in surprise and open the door to follow on foot. Sam pushed himself up and started to run as fast as he could. Unfortunately as fast as he could, wasn't enough. The shape-shifter caught up with him in no time. The imposter grabbed Sam and thrust him against a tree, where the boy fell limp at the 'things' feet. The shape-shifter smirked, and pulled the boy's limp body over his shoulder, whistling a tune as he walked back to the truck.

With Sam's Brother…

Dean ran…

As fast as he could…

Even though…

Fever made him delirious…

And stumble…

All that mattered now was Sam, the shape-shifter –Who had turned into Dean, just not wearing the jacket- had gone in the direction of the car, and with his appearance, could get past Sam without trouble. His only bit of hope was the adivse that he had given Sam. "If it doesn't feel good, then it is most likely bad."

John –his father- who ran next to him, never minded the sweat upon his brow, or the cramps in his legs. His baby boy was in danger. That was the whole reason the boy couldn't come hunt. His little boy was a pansy. His baby boy didn't like to fight like his oldest did. But that's why he loved the boy. He loved Dean because he was his first born, he was strong, he was strong willed, and he would protect his little brother and his father at all cost. There was a sense of no-one-left-behind with Dean. He loved Sam because he was the one who brought Mary back into his life. Sam was so much like Mary, he had her hair, he had her personality, he had her sense of worry, and whenever John had felt bad he could always count on Sam to make him smile. Of course Sam didn't know he didn't have that effect. But he did.

"Dad…Do you think Sam's ok?" Dean panted, he was entirely out of breath. What didn't help was this flu that had caught him off guard.

"I'm sure he is."

John lied…

He wasn't sure…

At all…

And his boy…

Could be dead…

For all he knew…

An hour later with Sam

Sam stirred…

Man his head hurt like hell…

Maybe he would have Dean get him a Tylenol later. Maybe he would ask Dean why he had such a big migraine. Wait a minute…Dean!

The twelve-year-old opened his eyes and frowned. Then it hadn't been a dream. Dean, or the shape-shifter, had gotten him. He tried to move his wrist but found to his bewilderment that they were bound, so were his legs. "Shit," he cursed aloud. He turned his head to look out the window and was startled to find that he was inside the vehicle, but on the floor.

"So the bastards up…"

"You really must like that name don't you…" Sam weakly said.

"You daddy doesn't hide the weapons too well, I found the keys to the car, and the keys to his weaponry both in your pocket. Guess daddy can't trust his youngest and weakest boy." The thing sneered and snapped his attention back to the road.

The shape-shifter stopped the car and killed the engine. He picked up the trussed up Sam Winchester, and got out of the truck. He threw Sam roughly against the ground. Sam nearly lost consciousness again. He gave out a weak cry in pain.

"Can't have you crying out…" The shape-shifter produced a washcloth that the Winchesters used to wipe off the blood from their wounds. They usually didn't clean it until after a month. That one had been used fairly well…

It was stuck in the boy's mouth. Sam felt like wanting to vomit at the thought of where the thing had been, but he had to stay strong.

"So little Sammy Winchester. I need to know where your daddy keeps all the silver bullets, they weren't with the others…" The shifter had returned this time holding three knives in his hand. "I suppose you cant talk with that silly ole gag. Here I'll take it off and you can tell me where the bullets are so I can destroy them."

The shifter reached down and yanked the gag out of the boy's mouth. Sam spat upon the man's foot. "I wont tell you anything you piece of crap!"

"tsk tsk tsk. And I was hoping that you would be much more agreeable than your father…I guess all Winchesters are like that. I suppose that your mother was like that too."

"Leave her out of this!" Sam never really forgave himself. He had all those years blamed himself for his mother's death.

"She died over your crib…" The shifter continued. "And she shouldn't have, it would have been better if the demon had taken you." The shifter hissed. "You're a useless weakling who is no profit at all!"

"Shut up!"

The shifter stuck the gag back in the boy's mouth. "She died in vain. Maybe if she had lived then your brother could have lead a healthier life, maybe if she had lived then he would have had a normal life!"

"Shut up!" Sam yelled. Which sounded more like "Sthu thup." The shifter got it nether the less.

"Since you wont tell me where the bullets are I suppose I'll have to torture you to get the information." He raised the knife. "Lets see your agility, tied up."

Sam managed to avoid two knives, which stuck to the tree behind him. The third however struck home. It was embodied in Sam's shoulder. Sam gave a muffled cry in pain.

"Feel like telling me little boy?"

Sam gave the man a nasty glare.

"Oh well. Let me check on the rest of the weapons and see what I can do with them."

The shifter walked off to the small trunk filled with the weapons. Sam took that moment to roll backwards –despite the pain of the knife widening his wound each time he laid on it- and finally made it to the tree. He started to rub the boundings against the knife, he missed the mark a few times managing to catch his wrist. He just hissed in pain and kept on working.

After a good moment Sam had his hands free and was working on his feet.

"hmmm…no…not that one either…" The shape-shifter had all his attention on picking out the right weapon. Sam pulled off the nasty tasting gag, picked up all three knives and started to run.

"SHIT! HE'S GETTING AWAY!" The shifter realized what was going on and chased after the little boy. At this time of night it was extremely dark, and Sam stumbled on almost everything on the floor of the forest.

"Dean! Dad!" Sam cried out.

The shifter caught up with the kid, forgetting entirely that he held three knives in his hand. Sam struck back with one of them and it caught the shifter on the face, making a long cut upon his cheek. Sam really was glad now that he wasn't hurting Dean. After the shifter had put his hands to his cheek Sam kept running.

"You little sun-uva-bitch!" It hissed.

Sam kept running ignoring the curses being bellowed his way. He stopped just long enough to fling one of the knives in the things chest. It stopped, and slowed it down by only a few seconds, but it still helped the boy greatly.

He blindly threw the second one behind him, but guessed it had hit his mark when he heard a groan. There was the sound of something collapsing. Sam then realized that that thing had the car keys. He tiptoed back to where the shape-shifter was and found the thing had hit his head against a tree when attempting to dodge the knife. Sam dug around in his pocket and found the keys to both his fathers weapon container, and the keys to the truck. Sam then raced back to where the car had been left. There was a first aid inside there, but he had no idea when the shifter would wake up again. So he just ran inside and started the engine.

Sam had learned how to drive recently. "Just in case you need to, but only during emergencies." His father had said. This was an emergency so he stuck the keys in the ignition. By now his body was tall and lanky and he could reach the petals without any help. So Sam drove the beloved truck away through the forest. When he reached the road he stopped the vehicle and sighed. John and Dean were there most likely talking out what they should do. When they heard the vehicle come forward they stood at alert but Sam turned off the engine and crawled out. "Dean…Dad."

"Sammy, what is the password?"

"It's Led Zeppelin…"

"By God! It is Sammy!" Dean rushed forward and held his little brother in his arms. "Your injured Sammy! What happened Sammy! My goodness, look at your wrist! You have a gash in the back of your head Sam!"

"I'm ok…" Sam sighed collapsing into his brother's arms.

"Where are you, you little pile of shit!" Dean's voice echoed in the forest.

John and Dean raced to get the boy inside the car, and then they piled in themselves. Right now was not the time to go after it. They would wait until tomorrow.

Back at the hotel-room

Sam had fought well…

After telling his tale…

Inside the car…

Until they got back to the hotel...

Dean and John fussed over Sam as they cleaned the wounds on the back of his head, his wrist, his ankles (Sam had accidentally sliced himself when he was trying to break free), and some minor scratches and bruises from stumbling in the darkened forest. Sam had told them everything that had gone on inside the car.

"Man Sammy, you have grown up so much. I didn't think that you could do something like that…" Dean said sitting on one of the beds. He said it to no one in particular, because Sam had fallen asleep hours ago. "Sammy, you've grown up and I didn't see it coming…"

"I didn't either." John said. "I think your brother will be able to join us while we hunt…except he won't be going with us tomorrow, or in the car…I want you to stay with him while I hunt down that sun-uva-bitch."

Dean nodded. Now he really didn't mind babysitting. Maybe with Sam hunting, the family could be together a little bit more. Well, hunting isn't exactly a family sport, but it was something that they could do together.

(A/N: hate it tell me, loved it tell me. Just send a review my way! Please!)