For Love of Money

Author's Note:

Prompt comes from Shahenaaz08: Pre-series AU. Sam is 12 and Dean is 16. John leaves the boys alone and Dean doesn't want to babysit Sam so he goes out with his friends and his brother gets hurt.

Their father had been gone for three days when Dean decided he'd had enough.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He just needed to get out of the room for a few hours.

Besides, Sam wouldn't even know he was gone.

SPN

Sam had been diagnosed with Autism shortly after his first birthday. He had not started walking when he should have been and he had yet to even say simple words such as 'Dada'. Although he was able to sit up, Sam refused to move unless John or Dean carried him to where they wanted him. Sam hardly ever reacted to his name and he refused to play games such as 'peek-a-boo'.

Not completely sure what to do- Mary would have known- John waited to see if Sam would start to act like a normal toddler.

Maybe he was just a late bloomer, John had told himself, but deep down, he was terrified that something was seriously wrong with his youngest son.

When Sam failed to develop the skills displayed by other toddlers his age, John took his son to the hospital. After a series of tests, the results came back positive.

SPN

Dean loved his brother; there was no question about that. But sometimes, he needed a break, some time to himself.

Since he had been four years old he had taken it upon himself to be his brother's caretaker but some days were better than others and Dean needed some space now and then.

W

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. He glanced at the sunburst clock on the wall above the beds and smiled. It was almost time.

Sam had 'zoned-out' a half-hour ago, as he usually did after dinner and would remain in his own world for hours. He sat silently on the edge of his bed, one hand raised in the air, waving.

Dean grimaced slightly. Sam's quirks seemed to have him deemed as a 'freak' or 'weirdo' by kids wherever they went.

Although Sam had Autism he was very smart- a fact that made Dean proud- but he still ended up in classes with the other kids who had special needs.

Sam didn't like to be away from Dean. Even though he barely seemed to notice he was there most of the time, the twelve-year-old knew when Dean wasn't nearby.

Dean couldn't imagine how Sam managed to get through the school day without him. He would walk Sam to his class, help him with his backpack and coat before heading over to the high school a couple of blocks away. He was always late for Homeroom but after explaining about Sam, his teacher- an older woman nearing her retirement- looked the other way.

Sometimes Dean would pick up Sam and the teacher would tell him his brother had spent an hour tantruming before finally calming down- a good day- or he would get a call in the middle of class telling him he had to come and get his brother because he was hitting his head against a desk or the wall or the floor.

W

Sam never spoke. He couldn't even say Dean's name. But his older brother somehow knew exactly what he wanted even when their father was at a loss as to how to decipher Sam's silent demands.

He didn't like the dark and would only sleep if every light in the motel room was kept on.

He didn't like to be touched.

He only ate orange foods. Carrots and Cheddar cheese were his favourites.

He enjoyed Metallica but hated every other band.

He only wore shirts if they were green.

He never went anywhere without his stuffed Teddy Bear whom Dean had named 'Bill'.

He only sat in the back of the Impala. He never took the front seat.

W

Sam didn't move from his spot at the end of the bed, even as Dean turned on the television.

He sat as still as a statue except for his one waving hand, the other clutching one of Bill's arms.

The sound of a car motor approaching elicited no reaction from the youngest Winchester but his brother jumped up. Dean parted the curtains covering the window and grinned at the sight of his friend, Jeremy, behind the wheel of his car.

Grabbing his jacket, Dean said a quick, automatic goodbye to his brother.

"See ya, Sammy! I'll be back soon. Don't have any crazy parties while I'm gone!"

Dean loped across the sidewalk and opened the passenger door.

"Hey," Jeremy said and pulled out the parking lot, "You ready?"

"Hell yeah!" Dean exclaimed happily.

SPN

Arthur Bradley and Ramon Bello pulled into the parking lot of the 'Lone Wolf' motel.

Although it wasn't the nicest place in town, it was always fairly busy.

There was certain to be some folks with cash staying at the place.

Bradley- driving a discreet blue panel van- parked so that he and Bello had a view of the rooms at the back of the motel and waited for night to fall.

They watched as a punk kid pulled up in an old T-Bird his father had probably bought for him and another teen from room 9 joined him, climbing into the passenger seat before speeding off.

Soon the outside lights came on and illuminated the parking lot as the shadows grew longer and the sun went down.

Bradley decided that it was dark enough and grabbed his tools: a coat hanger, a black plastic garbage bag and a gun. He pulled a balaclava over his head and exited the vehicle. Bello followed, also carrying a gun and wearing a balaclava.

The two men made their way swiftly to the first motel room and Bradley jimmied the lock with the coat hanger, letting themselves inside.

SPN

Dean couldn't believe he and Jeremy had been able to sneak into a R-rated movie.

He hadn't even been asked to show ID! He guessed he looked much older than his sixteen years.

He wished they could stay in town for longer but John was due to return from his hunting trip in a day or two.

Dean glanced down at his watch, checking the time and decided he had enough time to finish the movie before he had to go back to the motel.

He'd have to get Sam ready for bed in a couple of hours.

Dean's thoughts drifted away from his brother's nighttime routines and back to the movie.

Yeah, he could get used to this.

SPN

Bradley and Bello had scabbed some great loot: Money, credit cards, and jewelry.

Their greed pressed them onwards and Bradley picked the lock of room 9 with ease. He swung the door open wide and Bello rushed into the motel room.

"Whoa!" Ramon cried, startled by finding a kid in the room.

"What?" Arthur asked and then saw what his friend was looking at.

"The hell?" Bello asked, stepping forward.

The boy didn't react to their presence. He was sitting on the end of one of the beds, one hand clutching a stuffed bear toy, the other flapping in a comical waving motion.

The two robbers stared at the child for a long moment before Bradley moved.

"He ain't gonna do anything," he grumbled and shoved Bello forward, "Let's go."

Ramon gave the child one last look before he grabbed one of the duffel bags sitting on the floor, yanked the zipper open and dumped its contents onto the carpet.

Clothes and toiletries fell out. Bello bent down and pawed through them, searching for anything valuable.

Bradley tugged the drawers out of the dresser the television sat on and tossed aside anything he couldn't steal.

"There's no money here!" Bello announced, stepping on top of the clothes he's strewn about as he reached for the second duffel bag.

"Keep looking," Bradley hissed. He turned around and stared at the kid for a moment.

Stepping up to the boy, Arthur reached out and grabbed the front of his lime-green t-shirt.

The reaction was both instantaneous and alarming. The kid's hand stopped waving, his eyes went wide and he let out an ear-piercing shriek.

"What the fuck did you do?!" Bello called, crossing the room to his friend.

Bradley released the boy as though he'd burnt his hand but the screaming didn't stop.

"Shut the damn brat up!" Ramon begged.

If someone heard the racket they'd call the cops and then they'd be in for it.

Bradley raised his hand holding the gun and swung it at the child's head. The weapon connected with the side of the boy's skull and he fell of the bed, landing heavily on the carpeted floor.

Both men were panting from the adrenaline rush. They stared at one another for a moment before Arthur swore.

"Fuckin' kid must be one of those retards."

"We should go," Bello said.

Bradley nodded, "There ain't anything good here anyways."

The two men quickly crossed the room, only pausing to close the door before they hurried across the parking lot with their stolen goods and climbed into their van.

SPN

"Hey, Carla's just invited us to a party at her house if you want to go," Jeremy told Dean, lowering his cell phone as he ended the call.

Dean smiled. Carla was so hot and he'd love to go to her house but he couldn't. At least not tonight.

"Nah, I gotta get back and look after Sam."

Jeremy shrugged, "Whatever, man."

"Hey, I'll give you a lift back to your motel," the boy said and Dean nodded, grateful for the gesture.

As they approached the 'Lone Wolf' motel, blue and red lights flashed in the distance.

"Huh, wonder what happened," Jeremy said, "Maybe someone wrapped their car around a telephone post."

Dean didn't say anything. He suddenly had a bad feeling, his stomaching going cold at the sight of the police lights.

W

Cruisers were blocking the entrance to the motel parking lot so Jeremy pulled up to the boulevard.

Dean clambered from the car without giving his friend a backwards glance.

Policemen stood in front of one of the motel rooms, its open door displaying the catastrophe inside.

"Hey! Kid!" a cop called and Dean skidded to a halt.

"I'm staying in room nine," he explained.

"A number of these rooms were broken into earlier tonight," the cop continued, "I can't allow you inside until we are sure you're wasn't hit. There might be evidence."

"No," Dean said, startling the officer, "My younger brother is in our room and I need to make sure he's okay."

"Alright son," the policeman said and followed Dean to room 9.

The door swung open at Dean's touch and he gaped in horror at the mess revealed. Clothes were scattered all over the floor and Sam was nowhere in sight.

"Sammy!" Dean cried and stepped into the room, heart pounding in fear.

What if whoever had broken in had taken Sam with them?

Dean tried not to think of all the horrible scenarios involving Sam and his potential kidnappers when he caught sight of a small limp hand poking out from between the two beds.

"Sam!" Dean called, feeling relief rush and terror rush through him at the same time.

Stepping over their clothes, Dean crouched down beside his brother.

Sam was unconscious, blood coating the side of his face from a gash that started at his temple and stopped just behind his ear. His face was also bruised from the impact of whatever he'd been hit with.

"Sammy?" Dean reached out and pressed his fingers to his sibling's neck.

He heard the police officer talking on his radio, calling in paramedics.

Sam's heart thudded beneath Dean's hand and the older brother sighed in relief. Bending down, he picked his sibling up, cradling him against his chest.

Dean followed the policeman outside and into the parking lot. Other cops stared at him, surprised that there had actually been someone inside one of the rooms.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean murmured quietly, "I've got ya."

The teenager only took his attention away from his brother when the police officer approached him with a paramedic.

The woman smiled and Dean followed her to the ambulance.

"What's his name?" she asked and Dean told her.

Dean handed his sibling to the paramedic and watched as she assessed his injuries.

"He'll need stitches," she told Dean, "Are you coming along to the hospital?"

Dean nodded and climbed into the back of the ambulance.

W

Once Sam was resting comfortably in a hospital bed, Dean collapsed into the chair provided for visitors.

He felt like shit.

If he hadn't gone to see that movie with Jeremy he would have been able to protect his brother.

Sam still hadn't woken up but the doctor wasn't overly concerned. Sam ended up with twenty-five stitches and a concussion but it wasn't that bad. It could have been a hell of a lot worse.

There was a knock on the door and Dean looked up to see the police officer from earlier standing there.

"We need the contact information for your parents," the cop said.

"It's just my Dad," Dean answered, "And he's out of town right now."

The cop nodded but didn't leave, "We'll have to get him to examine the motel room and let us know if anything was taken."

Dean sighed, "Right now?"

"As soon as possible," the cop said before peering suspiciously at Dean, "How old are you?"

"Old enough," he replied.

"When your brother wakes up we want to talk to him," the cop continued, "He might have seen his attackers."

Dean snorted.

"Something funny?" the policeman asked.

"You can talk to Sam all you like but he's not going to answer you."

The cop frowned, "Just what-"

Dean interrupted before the man could become even angrier, "He has autism. He's also non-verbal. Hasn't spoken a word. Ever."

The cop looked as though he wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Oh, uh… I'm still going to need to get in contact with your father."

Dean nodded, grabbed a magazine off the bedside table and scrawled John's cell phone number onto the corner, tearing the paper in order to give it to the cop.

"He might not answer the first time so keep trying if he doesn't," Dean informed the cop, "He'll pick up eventually."

The officer nodded and left without another word.

Dean turned and looked at his brother.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of the white gauze covering the side of his brother's head.

"I should have known better," he continued sadly, "Next time I'm taking you to the movies with me."

W

Sam stared blankly ahead from his seat in the back of the Impala, one hand gripping Bill's leg and the other waving repeatedly.

Dean smiled slightly at the sight. Sam didn't even notice the stitches or the bruising along the side of his face.

John's hands tightened momentarily on the steering wheel before loosening.

He was just glad that his son was alright; both his sons, actually. He knew that if anything happened to Sam, Dean wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He had reamed Dean out the night before, after seeing their motel room- where nothing was taken, thankfully- and then Sam lying unconscious in the hospital bed.

John knew however, that Dean felt awful about what had happened without him having to say anything.

"I'm proud of you, son," John said without taking his eyes off the road.

Dean's eyebrows knitted in confusion, "For what? I fucked up?"

John almost smiled, "Yeah you did. But you've always been there for Sam otherwise, when I can't be. I know it must be hard for you to take care of him, putting your own life in second place for him."

Dean nodded. Usually looking after Sam was a thankless job; he wasn't even completely sure now if John knew just how difficult it was watching out for Sammy.

"But if I ever hear that you left him alone like that again," John said, his tone serious, "I'll kick your ass, you hear me?"

"Yes sir," Dean replied but smiled anyways.

Sam- who had ignored the entire conversation- continued to wave from the backseat.

Author's Note:

Thanks to maxandkiz, mb64, reannablue, AshleyMarie84, Priya723, Elishab68, SamDeanLover28, and L.A.H.H for reviewing.

Thanks to everyone who alerted, favourited or followed.

I am not an expert on Autism. I have read fictional novels (and fanfics) featuring characters with it and I have learned about it in school; I have even worked with students with ASD and Asperger's syndrome. I read up on some of the characteristics and signs of Autism for this fanfic using the website. If I have made any glaring errors, I apologize.

Please leave a review and a prompt if you have one. Thanks!