"Dean, it's too late. I saw them closing up the office when I left the building."

"Shit," Dean murmured. He washed a hand down his face and rubbed his eyes. Sam didn't say anything, not knowing what to do and willing to let Dean call the shots. He watched his brother slowly lull his head down to look at Oscar who was still holding Sam's hand and was now looking up at them with wide, trusting eyes.

Dean rolled his.

Dean shifted his stance and sighed as he bent down to look up at Oscar.

"Okay Oscar your aunt's running really late."

"Yeah. She should be here," he replied openly.

"Yeah," Dean muttered contemptuously, "she should," he finished, rubbing his hand down his face. He looked at his watch then at Sam as he stood back up. "We're gonna go over where his aunt should be picking him up and wait like fifteen more minutes."

"Okay," Sam nodded and looked down at Oscar, "c'mon bud we're gonna see if she'll still turn up okay?"

"Okay," Oscar replied, and they started walking.

"So Oscar," Dean started, smiling down at the kid.

"Yeah?"

"How do you know Sam?"

"Sam, he reads to me," Oscar replied happily. Dean grinned and looked at his brother. Sam smiled and rolled his eyes.

"We get paired up with fifth graders to help them read. Oscar's my reading buddy."

"Can Oscar read?" Dean asked, curious.

"Yeah!" Oscar answered defensively. "I can!"

Sam shrugged and nodded.

"Some, yeah," he said lightly, encouraging.

"Very cool, Oscar," Dean said evenly, raising his hand for a high five. Oscar laughed and tried to meet his palm with Dean's. He failed, given the heavy leather sleeve covering his hands.

"Why's he wearing your jacket, man?" Sam asked, "Aren't you cold?" He added, giving a furtive glance towards his brother, looking for any indication his older brother couldn't handle the weather.

"Kid was shaking when he came up to me at the bleachers," Dean shrugged.

"Was he wearing his jacket?"

"Yeah but it was retar-" Dean stopped as Sam's eyes widened. "I mean... uh..." Dean grappled with his words, somewhat confused by his own terminology, while they both glanced at Oscar. The slip had gone over his head. Dean huffed a relieved, awkward laugh, "had holes in it and shit."

"Shit!" Oscar shouted and started laughing, "you... said shit."

Sam gave Dean an exasperated look. Dean rolled his eyes and murmured "whatever" as they got to the spot Oscar had indicated was where his aunt normally picked him up. It was essentially a patch of trampled dead frosted land on the block's corner, easy to see from the bleachers. Sam realized Dean had been faced this way when he'd been doing jumping jacks earlier.

There was a useless chicken wire fence that bordered the corner and Dean strolled up and leaned against it. Oscar followed him, letting go of Sam's hand.

"Oscar c'mere," Dean beckoned and Oscar trundled his way to face him. Dean turned Oscar to the side and dug into the pockets of his jacket, pulling out his cigarettes and lighter.

"Real nice, Dean," Sam commented judgmentally as Dean lit his cigarette and put the pack and lighter into his back pockets.

"What?" Dean asked, then gestured towards Oscar. "I can tell Oscar's not gonna make these kinds 'a mistakes," Dean said happily, if not somewhat cryptically. Sam, again, rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Smoking's bad, Dean," Oscar informed the big brother. Dean gave Oscar a withering look and Sam smiled.

"You should listen to him," Sam advised.

"Yeah," Oscar agreed, obviously bolstered by Sam's words.

Dean looked at Sam and held his gaze, dropping the mood into something intangibly sadder than his little brother had expected. Sam's smirk melted to concern, catching the exhaustion and pain in his brother's eyes.

Dean broke the look to glance at Oscar who was still standing before him, still anticipating a response. Dean looked down.

"Yeah I know," he said wearily, taking another puff.

Sam caught the body-shiver that went through his brother just then. Dean was supposed to be in bed asleep right now, not doing jumping jacks to keep warm while waiting for a kid to get picked up by an irresponsible relative.

"Dean, you thirsty?" Sam asked, pulling a water bottle out of his bag.

"God yeah," Dean sighed gratefully, reaching out for it. His balanced faltered at that, his footing almost getting the better of him until he leaned against the fence and used it to sink down into a crouch.

"Dean, you dizzy?"

"Just gimme the water I'll be all right," Dean grumbled, holding his head down between his knees while reaching out. Sam made sure he had a good hold of it before turning to Oscar.

"Hey Oz I want you to take that jacket off for a second-"

"What? Why?" Oscar asked, confused, while Sam worked his own jacket off.

"Just for a second, Oz," Sam promised. Oscar huffed and started wriggling out of the over-sized leather contraption.

"Sam, don't do that," Dean whined lowly, still facing the ground as he slurped from the water bottle.

"Dean it's cool I'm really warm right now anyway," Sam reassured lightly, knowing Dean wasn't in much of a position to throw his weight around as a big brother just yet anyway. He pulled his jacket all the way off and bit off a small yip of displeasure as a thick gust of freezing wind and rain pummeled him. He managed a whispered curse, then helped Oscar get Dean's jacket all the way off him.

Dean glanced dully at Sam's actions and waved a limp hand at Sam, a disapproving do what you want Sam gesture. Sam retaliated by pitching Dean's rolled up jacket at his stomach. Dean jerked with surprised but caught it.

"Put it on," Sam called over the wind as he turned to help Oscar into his jacket. When he turned, Dean was pulling his collar up as high as possible as a barrier against the wind. Sam stood there, looking at the two of them, then turned around and squinted past the wind and rain, searching for even just the slightest glint or glimmer of a headlight on the roads. Hopefully Oscar's aunt would give them a ride home too.

There was nothing though. Sam stepped further out and into the street, willing a car to arrive any second now.

"C'mon, c'mon," Sam whispered, rain water dripping into his eyes and mouth.

"Sammy get back here!" Dean's deep voice cut through the weather and Sam turned, seeing his brother standing now, his arm over Oscar's shoulders as the kid huddled in next to him. Sam jogged back to the fence, shivering cold, his hair wet. As soon as he came close enough Dean's arm shot out.

"C'mere, man," Dean coughed, pulling Sam against him. Sam went with it, pressing his back against his brother, trying to make himself smaller as he grabbed the folds of Dean's jacket and closed them in front.

"We gotta get out of this weather," Dean said, his head down, talking to both Oscar and Sam. "Oscar you're coming back home with us, okay?"

Sam nodded, wholeheartedly for this plan of action. He could feel his brother shaking against his back.

"The weather. It's bad!" Oscar shouted.

Both Sam and Dean managed to laughingly shout, "yeah!" back before Dean started nudging them forward. Oscar must've been okay with their plan because he went willingly, grabbing onto Dean's hand and holding it like he'd never let go. Sam moved to Dean's side, still under his brother's jacket, and wrapped his arm around his waist.

Sam had the entire walk to think about all the shit that could go wrong, gloriously backdropped by howling winds and a severe thunderstorm practically directly overhead. Dean managed their pace, every once in awhile bending down to listen to Oscar's breathing to make sure they weren't going too fast for him. Sam wanted to shoot out ahead and prep the room for their arrival but he was too worried about his brother. Dean's grip on him and Oscar never wavered but he still looked like death warmed over.

After four blocks, they finally reached the motel's parking lot. Sam was impressed Oscar hadn't complained once, the kid stoically trudging along with Sam and Dean, focus and determination in his eyes.

"Watch your step," Dean called.

"I know, Dean," Sam replied irritably.

"Wasn't talking to you, idiot," Dean shot back.

"Oh."

They stumbled their way up to the building and finally reached the shelter of the roof's overhang. Sam heard Dean breathing heavily over him and was about to detach to take stock of his condition when a throaty, thickly-accented voice boomed out.

"What the hell is this?!"

Sam turned and saw a huge bulldog of a man busting his way out of the motel's office at the end of the walkway. The rickety door slammed against the wall rivaling cracks of thunder as the manager bore down on them.

"What did I tell you? Huh? What did I tell you?!" Lars - Sam remembered his name now - shouted.

"De-"

"I got this, Sam, get Oscar into the room," Dean said sharply, shoving the key into Sam's hand while pushing him off and towards Oscar.

"But-"

"Damn it, boy, I said pay by six pm on Thursday." Lars roared. Dean gave Sam a severe look and Sam knew best not to argue.

"C'mon, Oscar, c'mon," Sam beckoned. Oscar's eyes were nearly frozen in terror watching the man approach. He snapped out of it when Sam started pulling him away and up to their door and gasped as the man walked right past them to face off against Dean. Sam made to close the door but stopped to watch through the crack as Lars stopped barely an inch in front of Dean, hovering over his big brother.

"What day is it?!" Lars shouted into Dean's face.

"Friday, sir."

Sam's jaw fell.

"And what day did I say you had to pay me?"

"Thursday, sir."

Dean was legitimately respectful. Why wasn't he being a smart ass?!

Sam felt a tugging on his sleeve.

"Sam! Sam get away!" Oscar pleaded. Sam shushed Oscar and turned back.

"-stopping me from calling the cops right now to get you and your little buddies off my goddamn property, huh!?"

"I can pay you right now - this past week and another week in advance - in cash, sir," Dean replied weakly.

"Let's see this," Lars challenged angrily, stepping back and lodging beefy hands against his hips. Sam could see his brother now, sorely pulling out a wad of cash from his jacket pocket rolled together by a rubber band.

Sam cringed. Dean hadn't had the time to separate the money: Lars was going to overcharge now that he'd seen it.

Dean peeled off bills and Lars held his hand open between them.

"This past week," Dean coughed, placing a stack onto the man's hands. He resumed the count for next week's charge.

"You sick, boy?"

"No, sir," Dean responded immediately, attempting to sound stronger. It didn't work but Lars said nothing. Dean finished counting the bills and handed him the next payment.

"Next week."

Lars took the money and stood there, recounting it, thoroughly ignoring Dean's miserable position, soaking wet and shivering before him under the blasts of winds that were only picking up speed.

"-Ssssaaam!" Oscar shouted from behind. It was too loud and Lars cocked his head towards their room. Sam gave a small gasp and backed away from the crack. He leaned forward when he heard Lars speaking again.

"This looks good, kid," Lars said roughly, "but, uh..."

Sam's heart sank, wondering what Lars was going to add to the charge.

"What about the retarded kid you got in there I saw? He staying with you too?"

Dean's respectful, stoic posture disappeared as he hunched, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he looked back up, Sam saw the defeat in his eyes.

"Lars, c'mon man, he's just a kid-"

"No. Wrong. He's a third occupant. That's ten more per night besides whatever damage he does to the room while he stays."

Dean and Sam unconsciously reacted with the same expression of furious indignation.

"What the fuck? He's not going to damage anything in this toilet you call-"

"Do you want out?" Lars shouted, silencing the older brother. "Because I will gladly kick all your asses out in the pouring fucking rain right now, Dean. Do you want that?!"

Dean bit his lip, his jaw clenched, his eyes livid.

"No, sir."

"Good," Lars said definitively and paused, letting time move and the rain fall loudly around them. "So we have an understanding," Lars stated and shot his empty palm out again. Dean gave a frustrated sigh, eyed Lars as he peeled a ten off the roll of cash, and slapped it into Lars' hand.

"He only staying for the night?" Lars asked.

"Yeah," Dean sneered. Lars stayed there, probably trying to stare Dean down into giving up what he thought was a lie. Dean didn't back down an inch.

"Good," Lars finally said, backing away, then pointed at Dean, "You better not take advantage of me on that," he warned angrily, before stepping back one more time to turn around and walk back to the office.

Released from the exchange - Lars' lumbering back to his office den of porn mags and Cheetos - Dean looked up, his eyes closed, and just breathed. Sam thought of it like Dean was re-centering himself. Normally his brother would punch shit or go out to get drunk right now but Sam knew Dean knew he couldn't afford the irresponsibility in those options at the moment.

Sam watched him slowly roll his head, stretching his neck, then lower his gaze to meet Sam's surprised eyes through the crack.

"D'you get all that?" Dean asked bitterly.

Knowing the ruse was up, Sam opened the door all the way.

"Sorry," he murmured, slightly ashamed to have witnessed that.

Dean walked slowly towards him. As he passed through the doorway he ruffled Sam's wet hair.

"S'okay," he whispered sadly, his voice taking on a scratchy, raw quality Sam didn't like.

Writer's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Please comment/review if you can spare the time! ~ Alex