7:15 A.M.

They found themselves a bench to sit on, one that was remote enough to be ignored by the presently awake townspeople, and hidden under the shade of a large oak tree for good measure.

Dean and Sam were practically shoving their nachos down their throats as their metabolism finally caught up to them. While they were enjoying themselves, Conner, on the other hand, was still staring at his untouched pile like he was attempting to understand its existence.

"I've never had... nachos before." confessed Conner, and he pronounced the word 'nachos' with some difficulty, as if he was saying something in a totally new language.

"About time you tried them then." said Dean.

It looked like Conner was about to say something when his stomach grumbled loudly.

"Sounds like you haven't eaten in days." remarked Dean.

Conner blinked the momentary shock and confusion away and chose to stare at the grass. "I haven't eaten at all. I don't need to eat." he muttered.

As if to contradict him, his stomach growled again, so furiously this time that Conner doubled over in pain and nearly dropped his nachos.

"Really?" responded Dean, raising an unimpressed, teasing brow. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Conner had even eaten anything recently other than the scant meal he served him earlier.

Conner gradually straightened himself up, the last traces of resistance abandoning him as a breeze flew by and let the aroma of the nachos hit him in the face. Cautiously, Conner picked up a small piece, examined it for a moment, then put it in his mouth.

"So how is it?" Dean asked.

While chewing ever-so-slowly, a faraway look entered Conner's eyes, as if he was searching for the right answer. Eventually, he swallowed his first nacho and got another one; the same pensive expression appeared, like he was struggling to figure out what to say. Then he got a third, a fourth, a tenth… soon, the thoughtful look melted away and his eyes got brighter and more enthusiastic with every bite.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." snickered Dean, returning to his own nacho-pile. Although, he did not get far as he almost immediately felt Sam tugging at his right side.

"Dean, I want more nachos." he said.

Dean glanced up to survey their environment, only to learn that there was no longer a single vendor in sight.

"The nacho-guy's already gone." he said.

He was met with his brother's teary, puppy-dog look, and somehow the splotches of cheese on his cheeks merely enhanced it rather than ruined it.

Sighing, Dean handed the rest of his nachos – which had not even reached their halfway-point – to Sam. "Here."

As Sam happily dug into some more nachos (and got his face even dirtier), Dean leaned back further into the bench until his spine was pressing against wood. He tilted his gaze up and noticed that the sky was still a dark, cloudy gray, meaning that another heavy downpour would be imminent.

Just then, at the corner of his vision, he saw Conner presenting his nachos to his face. Dean turned to his left and was greeted by Conner's steady blue gaze; when seconds passed and Conner still did not put his nachos down, realization dawned on Dean.

"What're you giving me these for?" he asked a little tersely.

"I want you to have them." said Conner.

Dean blinked in surprise. "Don't you like them?" he inquired.

"I do, but you like them more." Conner replied calmly.

After a moment passed when Dean tested Conner if he was really sincere about the offer, Dean breathed out a word he rarely got to use: "Thanks."

It was… weird to say that word, it sounded nearly foreign on his tongue. For the most part of his life, he had always been the one to give and Sam always the one to receive. He accepted that fate a long time ago, so it was kind of nice for him to get something for a change.

A tiny bell tinkling in the distance alerted them to the arrival of an ice cream vendor.

"Hey, Sammy, go buy us some ice cream, will ya?" said Dean, handing his brother some money.

"What flavors?" he asked.

"The usual." Dean answered.

Sam nodded and sprinted off… only to come back a couple of seconds later. "Does Conner have a usual?" he asked.

Dean looked to Conner, except the response he got from him was a confounded, wide-eyed expression.

"Give him vanilla." said Dean, repressing an eye-roll.

With that, Sam took off, faster this time so he could catch up to the ice cream vendor. That left Dean alone with Conner and, for a while, they sat in an unexpectedly comfortable silence.

Then Conner spoke up. "Ice cream?"

It was not instant, though Dean ultimately detected the utterly clueless tone in his voice, the same one he used when he first heard about nachos. "No one ever gave you ice cream before?" asked Dean.

"Matters like these are unnecessary for my family." said Conner.

'Unnecessary'? What were they, health-freaks? "You've got a sucky family if you live like that. You gotta make up for lost time." said Dean seriously.

Conner stared at him, almost unblinkingly, and Dean could pretty much see his brain treating his words like a piece of information he should bear in mind. He was really starting to remind him of Sam, the only difference was that he did not talk much.

Just then, Sam finally returned with their ice cream: strawberry for him, chocolate for Dean, and an innocently plain vanilla for Conner. As Dean and Sam instantly began licking at their ice cream, just like with the nachos, Dean noticed Conner just intently studying his treat, as if there was a code buried deep within that had to be deciphered.

A sigh escaped Dean's lips before he nudged Conner's shoulder and broke his attention. Conner's startled eyes quickly snapped up to meet Dean's and Dean gestured at his ice cream, silently commanding him to eat it.

Once the uncertainty dissolved, Conner gave his ice cream a tentative lick. He blinked a couple of times in confusion. "It's cold." he observed absentmindedly.

"Yep." said Dean.

Conner studied his ice cream considerably. "It's already cold out here. And we're also consuming something cold," he went on.

"We're awesome that way. Ain't that right, Sammy?" hollered Dean.

"Uh-huh!" Sam cheerfully replied, his face messier than ever with cheese and strawberry.

They entered into another relaxed silence after that. Occasionally, Dean would sneak glances at Conner to check if he was really eating his ice cream and not staring it down. However, it turned out that that would not be a problem anymore as every lick Conner made, his eyes sparked a little more in fascination and enjoyment, which urged him to attack his ice cream with more zeal.

Then he licked too hard and his vanilla scoop fell to the ground.

Simultaneously, all three of them stared at the fallen ice cream in stunned horror, with about the same intensity as anyone would give when faced with the end of the world.

"There's still the five-second rule." Sam meekly offered.

And that was when a group of joggers decided to run by them and, in turn, reduce the vanilla ice cream into goo.

Dean looked at Conner and saw a miserable – essentially heartbroken – expression on his face. Next to Sam's weepy puppy expression, this was the saddest thing Dean had seen in his life.

"Here, Conner. You can have the rest of mine." said Dean, offering him his ice cream.

Conner studied the chocolate ice cream for a moment. "But that's your ice cream." he said.

"And you gave me your nachos." Dean countered.

Dean could simply be imagining it, but he could have sworn that Conner was trying to blink back some unshed tears. "Thank you." said Conner quietly as he took the ice cream from Dean.

It was not until Conner overcame his shame and shyly licked at his new ice cream did Dean's worried gaze leave him.

With his nachos already gone, Dean's thoughts were left to wander. As his mind went from one random subject to another, his hunter's common sense kicked in and he realized something: when they had unearthed Conner from the pile of leaves, every bit of Conner's unprotected flesh became covered in scratches. Sneaking a glance at Conner now, Dean could find not even a single line marring his pale skin.

"Look, Dean! I want that bike for Christmas!" exclaimed Sam all of a sudden. He was jumping up and down on his seat, one hand shaking Dean and the other pointing at a mountain bike that just went around the curve. Dean had to admit that that bike truly looked impressive.

"You're too short for that bike." said Dean.

"No, I'm not! I got taller last month!" cried out Sam, straightening his back for emphasis.

Dean ruffled his hair and easily made him sink back down. "You're still too short. You're better off riding a pink, girly tricycle." he chuckled.

"But I don't want a girly tricycle." said Sam.

"Tough. It's that or no bike for you until you get really, really taller." said Dean.

When Sam crossed his arms and pouted at him, Dean simply laughed harder. "Come on, Conner. Let's rent some bikes so we can rub it at Sam's face." he said as he got to his feet.

Technically, Conner was still shorter than Dean, but he was slightly taller than Sam so that made all the difference. Dean walked a few steps forward, and when Conner failed to appear beside him, he whipped around and saw that he was still on the bench with Sam.

Conner tilted his head to the side. "Bike?"

There was that clueless tone again.

As reality sank in, Dean's eyes widened and his mouth hung agape for a second. "You're kidding me!" he groaned.

8:02 A.M.

"Alright. Sammy, check him for me. Helmet?"

"Check!"

"Knee pads?"

"Check!"

"Elbow pads?"

"Check!"

"Bell?"

"Check!"

"Brakes?"

"Check!"

"I'm not certain about doing this." admitted Conner nervously. He was sitting - or rather, frozen in place by fear - on a blue bike. He was geared up and basically ready to go, scared stiff or otherwise.

"Shut up, Conner. You're learning how to ride a bike whether you want to or not. The nachos and ice cream, I could deal with; but it's just embarrassing for a kid not to know how to ride a bike. Handlebars?" Dean continued in an all-business tone.

"Check!"

"Front wheel?"

"Check!"

"Back wheel?"

"Check!"

"Pedals?"

"Rider?"

Sam walked over to Conner and gave him the most serious expression he could muster. "In case you break all your bones, I'm gonna give you a big hug right now." he said. He then lunged forward and hugged a very bewildered, terrified Conner. "Check!" he happily proclaimed.

Dean performed a quick mental checklist and nodded to himself when he covered everything. "Okay, you're good to go. Just remember my instructions from earlier, and whatever's gonna happen, I want you to know that it was nice meeting you, Conner." he said.

"Yeah." joined in Sam as he went beside Dean. As one, they gave Conner a soldier's salute.

Conner's eyes widened even more in terror. "But – "

"Go!"Dean shoved him down the fifty foot-tall hill and the air was filled with Conner's screams.

Conner sped down the path like a bullet, and when he made it to the bottom and still kept on going, Dean playfully elbowed his brother's ribs and threw him a wicked grin.

"After him!" he exclaimed.

A brief, wide smile played itself across Sam's lips before they ran down the hill and tried to catch up with Conner. It was not long until Conner's awkward, shaky swerves brought him to a large crowd of people; luckily, everyone jumped out of his way with so much vigor that would put Moses and the Red Sea to shame. All Dean and Sam had to do was stay on the trail of parted people and listen to Conner's cries of terror.

When Conner was within their sights again, his bike jerked and wobbled so precariously that he almost crashed into the bongo drums of a street band. However, at the last second, he managed to turn to the right and got himself into another steep decline.

As the Winchester brothers passed by the band, Dean could have sworn that they discontinued their first song and began playing 'Highway to Hell' on purpose.

To be honest, Conner was holding on longer than Dean suspected, and the thought of a lengthy chase was actually kind of thrilling. Soon enough, things got more exciting when Conner unintentionally veered onto the path that was headed straight for a wedding procession.

The bride and groom were already joyously running toward their carriage, oblivious to the approaching threat. Conner's screams only gave them a second's notice before he zipped in between them. The bride and groom fell to the pavement, and the bouquet flew up into the air and landed on Conner's basket.

Dean and Sam exchanged disbelieving, mischievous glances with one another before breaking into a fit of laughter. They picked up the pace as Conner entered the picnic grounds; needless to say that the situation got a little messier and more chaotic as food started flying off everywhere.

Dean actually had to backtrack for a minute to swipe off an abandoned slice of pie. If this continued, they might have to use Conner in a grocery store or a mall or something considering how effective he was at dispersing people.

Then, Conner uncontrollably ventured into jugglers' territory – more specifically, jugglers who juggled burning chainsaws, axes and machetes.

"Pedal, Conner! Pedal!" urged Sam.

"Eyes in front! Keep that thing straight!" shouted Dean.

Even with his back turned to them, Dean could already see Conner's eyeballs threatening to leap out of their sockets if that meant they would remain intact.

"Deeeeeeaaaaann!" Conner shrieked as he entered the death-zone.

There was a part of Dean that doubted Conner getting out of there alive. But, miraculously, the same uncoordinated swerves that led him there in the first place were successfully weaving him side to side and out of harm's reach. It was an unbelievable sight, and Sam and Dean were unable to stop themselves from cheering him on.

"You're doing good! Just keep going!" yelled Dean.

"You think he'll make it to the end of the park?" Sam asked eagerly.

"If he doesn't crash into someone's dog, maybe." said Dean, although he was already sure that Conner was going to make it, even if it was only through sheer dumb-luck.

Before long, the ungraceful jerking motions disintegrated and Conner was finally riding the bike smoothly across an empty pathway.

"You're doing it! You're doing it, Conner!" Dean exclaimed.

"Alright, Conner!" cheered Sam.

Though still at a distance, they were close enough to Conner to see a breathless smile light up his features.

"It's almost like I'm flying again!" he said excitedly.

Dean did not know what he meant by that (must be the adrenaline making him say crazy stuff) but he was actually kind of proud of him. He got him to learn how to ride a bike.

He looked ahead of them and saw the park gates getting nearer. "Okay, Conner, you can stop now." said Dean.

Yet Conner still kept on going.

"Conner, stop! You're gonna crash!" Dean screamed.

"I can't!" yelled Conner.

The gates were getting closer and closer, and Conner's speed appeared to be increasing…

"Conner!" Dean and Sam shouted in unison.

9:26 A.M.

They located a small clinic on the other side of town, which was harder to reach because Conner had difficulty in walking. Sam and Dean had to support Conner most of the way; luckily, people made way for them when they noted how beaten up Conner was.

When they arrived, Dean asked the first nurse he saw if she could help treat Conner; however, all the nurse did was roll her eyes at them.

"Money before medicine, boys." she sneered.

Dean wanted to stomp on her foot, although upon hearing Conner moan in agony beside him, he had no choice but to get some money.

11:00 A.M.

When it was obvious that the pain was getting worse for Conner, Dean and Sam hid him away in an alley behind a dumpster, telling him not to go anywhere or reveal himself unless they returned. Once that was accomplished, the brothers set off for their pick-pocket spree, which generally involved Sam playing the role of an innocent, lost child who went up to random strangers while Dean craftily took their wallets.

There were times when their cover got blown, but after a while, Dean had acquired enough money for some medicine, plus a few extra cash for a whole week's worth of food and maybe even a new toy or two.

11:41 A.M.

The nurse did not seem too suspicious that a couple of kids had gotten a great amount of money in such a short time. She gave them a ticket with a number on it and told them to wait for their turn.

Their number was 39.

The current number on the display board was 4.

With a sigh, Dean decided that they should go out for lunch first.

"Okay, but can I steal the lollipops first?" Sam whispered, surreptitiously pointing to the unguarded bowl at the counter. Those looked like the kind that kids got whenever they visited a place like this, and it was clear that it had not been emptied for some time.

Dean looked around and noticed the nurses were not watching, and the other patients waiting in the room were too occupied with their thoughts to bother with acknowledging anything else.

"Good idea." commended Dean.

"It's actually Conner's," replied Sam.

Stunned, Dean glanced at Conner, who immediately blushed and stared at the floor when he realized he was being scrutinized.

"It was merely a suggestion." murmured Conner sheepishly.

Suggestion or not, Dean could not help but smile in admiration. Maybe with enough time, they could take the Sunday school-nerd part right out of him and totally replace that with something more along the lines of a Winchester.

12:35 P.M.

Conner did not know what hot dogs were. Big surprise.

Dean ordered a mega-foot-long for him so Conner would always remember hot dogs.

1:16 P.M.

As Conner got more and more tired with moving around, Dean got a skateboard that 'just so happened' to be lying on the side of the road, next to a bunch of teenagers making graffiti on a wall. The teenagers were not happy when the three of them took off on it.

Eventually, they managed to lose them. They let Conner sit on the board for a while; Dean attached a string to it so he can pull him. Things got a tad boring after they reached two blocks, and from there, an idea sparked and there was nothing to stop them (or at least Dean and Sam) from 'extending the advantages' of their booty by going on a joy ride on the skateboard across town. The city hall and library ramps were good places to start with, although their time there was short-lived since the guards shooed them off.

Then they found a construction site and all hell broke lose.

Poor Conner though. Dean sincerely hoped he did not pee in his pants... albeit, since Conner only borrowed them from Sam and not him, Dean supposed it was alright.

4:28 P.M.

At the end of the joy ride, all three of them were thankful to be in the clinic. Sam suffered from bruises and scrapes, Dean from a skinned elbow and Conner… well, nothing he did not already have.

The nurse treated their injuries first: apparently, Conner's ankle was seriously sprained, almost broken, which explained why he had a hard time walking. After a splint was tied to his leg, the nurse made Conner take some pills that she said would help with his ankle and the light fever that seemed to have returned.

The three of them barely managed to step out of the clinic when Conner's medicine kicked in and made him incredibly drowsy. Sam volunteered to stay by his side to keep him from falling to the sidewalk. Dean pulled their skateboard along and began the long journey to their motel.

5:03 P.M.

Along the way, the three of them stumbled into a bunch of older kids who, at first, brutally teased them and hurled threats about venturing into their territory. At the moment, Dean wanted to avoid trouble, but when one of the kids saw Conner as the easiest target, fist raised and aimed at his stomach, Dean snapped and went full-on attack mode.

Sam was still too young for a direct fight, so that left him guarding Conner if one of the other kids tried sneaking to them. In the end, Dean sent the gang running with their tails between their legs; the only problem was that he had used their skateboard as a weapon and had ended up breaking it.

Dean sighed and looked around if there was anything they could use that could carry Conner, who was already having a tough time keeping his eyes open. When Dean found nothing suitable, he ran his fingers across his hair and, reluctantly, gave Conner a piggy-back ride.

6:40 P.M.

"How're you doing up there, Conner?" Dean asked. He could feel the warmth of the fever radiating off him, and as much as he wanted to be in the presence of heat in this cold weather, it just felt weird doing this.

Conner blinked sleepily for a few times. "Feel weird." he murmured.

"That's okay. That just means the medicine's working through you." said Dean. They were almost there. He could see the motel sign flashing in the distance, beckoning them closer.

Dean turned to his right and saw that Sam was still holding Conner's hand, although Dean was uncertain whether Sam was worried for Conner or Conner was getting scared with what was happening and needed comfort. Could be both. Either way, all Dean knew was that Sam had not let go of Conner's hand since he started carrying him, which was odd since Sam did not attach himself to strangers so quickly.

"Dean," Sam piped up, gesturing at Conner.

Dean looked over his shoulder and discovered that Conner had fallen asleep on him. "Aw, Conner!" he groaned.

Luckily, the motel was within a stone throw's away and Dean hurried the rest of the way there, Sam struggling behind him. Before the situation could escalate into an even higher level of 'chick-flick moment,' Dean laid Conner on the couch and wiped the drool off the back of his shoulder.

Studying the person sleeping in front of him, Dean could not help but think that this was the guy responsible for the long day they had had. This stranger, who came out of nowhere and was now stuck with them until further notice, had briefly brought back a sense of harmless excitement back into their lives, even without meaning to. This kid, the most vulnerable Dean had ever seen, had become his responsibility ever since he found him in the rain last night.

"Get a pillow for him. I'll find a blanket." Dean ordered without thinking. He barely even knew Conner, and yet he was beginning to feel a sense of attachment to him.

A minute later, Sam returned with one of the extra pillows in the closet, while Dean held in his hands Sam's baby blanket, which they somehow managed to keep throughout the years. It was thin, moth-eaten and had an embarrassing duck print on it; however, it was a definite improvement from the pile of towels Conner had to make do with last time.

Carefully, Dean lifted Conner's head so he can slip the pillow underneath. Next, he covered him with the blanket and tucked him in, though not as gently as he would with his brother.

"Should I wake him up for dinner?" Sam asked once Dean was done.

Dean considered it for a moment, but when he glanced at Conner sleeping so soundly – not at all sickeningly pale and shivering – he replied, "Nah. Just let him sleep."

Sam walked over to Conner. "He could be hungry." he said imploringly.

"We'll have a big breakfast tomorrow then." said Dean.

His brother appeared like he wanted to argue but instead let it slide. He turned to Conner again and knelt down at his head.

"Goodnight, Conner." Sam whispered, then kissed him gently on the forehead.

That caught Dean entirely by surprise. Sure, he noticed Sam making an effort to get close to Conner, but this was… too much. As much fun hanging out with him today was, Conner was still a stranger to them, just a random, ordinary kid who did not need to get dragged into their life. The last thing they wanted was to start getting attached to people like him; if there was anything Dean had learned, it was that family was the only one he could trust, and Conner was unquestionably not family.

"Yeah, night." said Dean as he ruffled Conner's hair a bit. Without another word, Dean went to the kitchen to cook up some dinner for him and his brother.

TBC


This would've been up yesterday but I accidentally replaced the file that contains the first half of this story, so I had to start all over... after some pissed-off moping anyway.

Hopefully, there aren't any loopholes here X_X