I would like to thank everyone for their comments and suggestions. You may find a lot of what you suggested in this chapter. I greatly appreciate the feedback and suggestions!

It only took a few days for Dean to get Sam back: the old sticking your hand in warm water while you're sleeping until you pee the bed trick. Sam was so embarrassed he couldn't even explain to his dad why they needed to go the laundry mat. Dean stood in the doorway to their bedroom giggling as Sam tried to stutter out what happened.

"I just…" Sam mumbled. "I just think it's time that we do laundry. Dean's clothes really smell."

"Are you sure it's not your stuff, Sammy?" Dean laughed.

John looked between his boys.

"Please, Dad," Sam begged. "You can just drop me off at the laundromat. I have a roll of quarters, you don't even have to give me any money. I'll be safe. I won't get kidnapped."

"You might need a babysitter, though," Dean laughed.

"Is everything alright, Sam?" John asked.

"Yeah, I just really want to do my laundry," Sam answered. "And maybe some of Dean's clothes."

"And you're sheets?" Dean snickered.

"Seriously, Dean?" John sighed, finally understanding what Sam was trying to tell him.

"Funny's funny," Dean shrugged.

"Mean," Sam squeaked.

"You made my face numb," Dean shot back. "You really think I wasn't going to do anything to you?"

"Maybe if you didn't rub toothpaste all over your face, your whole face wouldn't be numb," Sam shouted. "Who puts toothpaste all over their face? Weirdos that's who."

"You don't know anything," Dean spat.

"It was harmless," John sighed.

"If I did that to him you'd kick my ass," Dean replied.

"You make Sam cry you get your ass kicked," John replied. "He's smaller that you."

"Totally not fair," Dean said rolling his eyes. "You're not being fair."

"Looks like the two of you will be spending the afternoon in town doing laundry," John said shaking his head. "Collect everything and put it in the car. I'll drop you off. Just don't kill each other while you're there."

Dean shoved at Sam as they walked back into their bedroom to collect all their stuff.

"There was literally no way to get around telling Dad," Sam sighed. "I didn't want you to get in trouble."

"I know, Short Stack," Dean answered picked his clothes up off the floor and shoving them into his duffel bag while Sam pulled his sheets off.

That night Sam put a bunch of their dad's shaving cream in Dean's hand and tickled his nose, covering his brother's face in the stuff. It was the best he could think of in a short period of time. A decent amount of it ended up in Dean's mouth.

"Trying to kill me isn't a prank!" Dean yelled trying to get the shaving cream out of his mouth.

"I wasn't trying to kill you," Sam yelled back, causing John to enter the room.

"What's happening in here?" John yawned.

"Dean's freaking out about nothing," Sam explained. "Some shaving cream got in his mouth, now he thinks he's going to die."

John sighed and shook his head. "You are the biggest drama queen I've ever met."

"But Sam-" Dean tried.

John held his hand up. "You boys need to knock off the pranking shit. I'm pretty much done with both of you."

"Sam's not playing fair," Dean whined.

"If you can dish it out," John said seriously. "You can take it. If you don't want to take it, leave your brother alone. You've done fair worse stuff to him than he's done to you."

"But you're helping him!" Dean whined. "You're giving him ideas and and helping him set them up."

"I went to the store," John corrected. "What he did with what he asked me to pick up is his business. I want the two of you to knock it off before one of you gets hurt."

Dean rolled his eyes and spit some more of the cream out of his mouth.

"If I did half the shit Sam's done to me, you'd ground me for life," Dean said.

"Watch your tone with me, Boy," John warned. "You're older and know better. Sammy's defending himself. There's a difference. Clean up this mess, both of you."

"Yes, sir," the boys replied in unison.

"And when you're done," John continued. "How about you boys clean the rest of this place? It's getting disgusting; like living with two little pigs."

The two boys sighed as Dean grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and wiped his face.

"And you call me a baby," Sam said under his breath.

"I can hear you," Dean said, he rolled up his t-shirt and whipped Sam in the thigh with it.

"I really don't get why you have to be such a baby when I fight back," Sam said looking at his brother. "You complain over and over that I don't fight back but then when I do, you get all five year old about it."

"I do not," Dean defended.

"You do," Sam countered. "I put shaving cream on you face and you told Dad I was trying to poison you."

"It's toxic," Dean said seriously.

Sam stared at his brother with an extremely serious face, unblinking. "You're an idiot."

"Shut up," Dean scoffed. "Help me pick up this room before Dad comes back in and whoop us."

They started school in upstate New York and on the second day of school Dean superglued Sam's zipper on his book bag shut so he had to rip it to get it open. Sam sat in the middle of the classroom red faced while his new classmates stared at him. Sam had a hard enough time fitting in without looking like someone who'd never had a backpack before. There was no way he'd ever make friends at this school with a first impression like that. He was going to murder Dean the next time he had the chance.

When he got out to car where his dad was waiting after school he felt like he could scream.

"You're never going to believe what Dean did to me!" Sam growled throwing his torn bag into the car before him.

"I thought I told both of you to knock it off," John sighed as Sam slammed the door shut behind him. John held up Sam's book bag and shook his head.

"Yeah, well, you know Dean's not so great at listening," Sam huffed as John dropped the car into drive and started toward the high school across town to pick up his other son.

"What are you gonna do?" John asked looking sideways at Sam.

"Ask you to make Dean buy me a new book bag," Sam shrugged.

"That's a start," John said reaching over and ruffling Sam's hair. "A real good start."

Everyone is an expert in something, and Sam Winchester, at eleven years old, was a scholar of his older brother. He knew more about Dean than Dean did. He knew things about his brother that Dean would never admit about himself. He knew that Dean still had a firetruck he got for his fifth birthday in his duffel bag, he knew that Dean somehow got a cupcake and put a candle in it for their mom every year on her birthday, he knew that Dean knew more about Batman than any other human being Sam had ever met, and he knew that Dean was terrified of snakes. Dean carried himself like nothing could phase him, but Sam knew differently. He knew how freaked out Dean got around slimy and crawly things. Sometimes Sam wondered how Dean ever expected to be a hunter like their dad when he was so squeamish, but he also knew he'd end up in a headlock, being tickled until he peed himself, or punched, if he asked.

If Sam knew anything, he knew Dean. So using that to his advantage, he set up his next prank. Sam borrowed a toy snake from his new friend at school and carefully shoved it under Dean's pillow with just the head sticking out. He smirked to himself as he almost skipped out of their bedroom to the kitchen. All he had to do now was wait.

"We're leaving next week," Dean was complaining. "What's the point of doing homework if we're not going to be in town long enough for it to even get a grade."

"Because I said so," John replied, doing his best to shove Dean down into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I don't want to," Dean said trying to squirm from under John's grip.

"I don't want to have this conversation with you everyday, but here we are," John spat back. "Sam always does his homework."

"Sam's a nerd," Dean rolled his eyes. "And a baby."

"And smarter than you," Sam said climbing into the chair next to his brother. "Because I do my homework."

"This is stupid," Dean sighed picking up his pencil and opening his math book.

"Just like-" Sam started.

"Enough, Sam," John warned ruffling Sam's hair. "Just do your homework. I'm gonna finish up the last bit of this hunt."

"Can I help with that?!" Dean asked excitedly turning toward his dad as he walked away.

"When you're done your homework," John called back.

"Geometry isn't going to help me hunt," Dean mumbled.

"Helps you learn how to read track patterns and attack points," John replied. "You can use what you learn in your math class to work out war strategies. Just do what I say, Dean. It's can't be all that hard."

"You have no fuckin' idea," Dean sighed.

Dean ended up heading to bed first that night, Sam was still in the bathroom brushing his teeth when a loud girlish scream filled the small apartment. Sam heard their father's loud footfalls across the floor as he spit and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Sam walked calmly out of the bathroom and tried not to smile as he walked over to the bedroom door so see the commotion.

"Kill it! Kill it!" Dean squeaked.

John sighed as he pulled the plastic snake from under his pillow. He glanced over at Sam, shaking his head with a hint of a smile before tossing the thing over at the older boy.

"What the hell!" Dean backed out of the way. "Get it away from me!"

"How are you going to hunt monsters if you're afraid of a plastic snake?" Sam giggled.

"Not funny," Dean said seriously.

"Hilarious," Sam replied doing his best Dean impression. "You're just jealous of my genius."

"You're a dick," Dean continued pushing past his dad to his own bed.

"I gotta great role model," Sam smirked.

"Knock it off," John said. "If you can't take it, Dean, don't dish it out. I've told you that a million times. You ruined that kid's book bag. Listening to you scream like a little girl is a good comeback."

"I didn't scream like a girl!" Dean huffed."Why are you always taking his side?"

"Because that was funny," John answered. "Good night boys."

Sam couldn't help but smile as he climbed into bed.

"I'm gonna get back," Dean said turning off the light between their beds.

"I know," Sam shrugged. "But I will forever have that girly scream in my head."

"You're a little bitch," Dean chuckled. "But, that was good though. Scared the shit out of me."

"That was the plan," Sam nodded rolling onto his side to look at Dean who was on his back staring at the ceiling. "Can this be over now?"

"Oh hell no," Dean laughed. "You're not winning. Good night, Sammy."

Dean rolled over to face that way away from Sam. Sam rolled to look up at the ceiling with dread. "Good night Dean."

It took Dean two days to retaliate, at least Sam figured Dean was trying to retaliate, or he was getting back at their dad for always taking Sam's side. But judging from the way Dean's eyes bugged out of his head when their dad came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel with purple liquid dripping down his face told Sam otherwise.

"Which one of you two idiots did this?" John boomed.

Dean looked to scared to speak, Sam slid in line behind his older brother, a defense he'd always went to in times of trouble.

"Well," John continued. "If I'm keeping track, Dean glued Sam's bag together so Sam but a snake in Dean's bed, so Dean decided to fill the shower head with kool-aid."

"Yeah," Dean said in the smallest voice Sam had ever heard his brother speak in.

"What?" John said stepping closer with his hand to his ear. "Come again?"

"Yes, sir," Dean said slightly louder. "I did."

"And is it funny?" John asked.

"It… it… it…" Dean stuttered. "It woulda...woulda been if it was Sam."

"How about the two of you go running?" John said. "Get dressed and go."

"How far?" Dean asked as Sam ran toward their room to get ready to go.

"Until I think it's funny," John growled.

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was going to try again or it that was the end of the war, but it seemed like both boys would do anything to get their father to stop glaring at them as they drove across the country to Idaho following something John, once again, wouldn't discuss.

"Maybe we can help," Sam tried. "I'm getting good at researching stuff. You know, maybe, I can look up lore and stuff for you."

"We'll see," John grumbled.

"You'll want to take the next exit if you want to stop for the night," Dean said softly from the passenger's seat. "Doesn't look like there's lodging in the next hundred miles or so."

"I gotta make it to town by tomorrow," John replied. "So I can get the two of you registered for school so you can start Monday."

"An extra day outta school's not gonna hurt anything," Dean tried. "We've missed more than that because of the job before."

"Yeah," John sighed. "And you really shouldn't. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing this right, the way the two of you are always at each other's throats. I don't know."

"I'm sorry," Dean said softly.

"It's not your fault kiddo," John sighed. "I made a choice a long time ago, too late to change it all now."

When they finally settled in Idaho Sam decided he really liked it there. He made a few friends, and there was even a little girl he liked. By beginning of November, Dean had a girl he liked, Janie -really liked, by the looks of things. Dean seemed to think it was okay to bring this girl into their room all the time. Sam hated it. Who knew what the two of them were doing in there? Dean swore it was homework, but Sam knew Dean's feelings about homework, so he doubted that could be true.

"I don't like her," Sam told his brother one night long after she'd left for the night shortly before Thanksgiving. "I don't like her being in my room."

"Still believe in cooties?" Dean asked.

"No," Sam snapped back.

"What do you think we're doing?" Dean asked seriously. "The doors open. Dad won't let me close it."

"I don't know, kissing," Sam answered. "I don't want kissing happening where I sleep."

"Give it time, little brother," Dean chucked pushing himself off his bed. "Give it time."

As Dean left the room, Sam knew that he had to strike.

He knew that Dean would be caught off guard. It would give him the upper hand in this war. He wasn't going to sit back and let Dean do whatever it was he was doing with that girl in his room.

Sam asked his new friend Levi to go to the mall the next afternoon after school, where he bought all the supplies he'd need for what he knew would be a perfect prank with the money his dad had given him. He snickered as he rummaged through Dean's duffel bag and laid out his plan. It was going to be glorious.

Dean was shifty all the following morning, and Sam could barely contain his giggling, but he he did his very best not to give himself away.

"What's wrong with you?" John asked over his breakfast bowl.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged.

"Stop squirming," John demanded.

"I can't," Dean mumbled pulling at his jeans. "I'm itchy."

"Are you?" John sighed.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "I think… I mean it has to be the soap from the laundry mat."

"Does it?" John asked. "It has to be."

"Yeah,"' Dean replied moving around in his chair doing his best to get comfortable. "I think I'm having an allergic reaction. That's what happens right? You get all itchy and hive-y?"

"We talked about this," John said seriously. "But maybe we should talk about it again to get it to sink in."

"About what?" Dean asked. "Laundry soap?"

"VD," John replied. Sam nearly spit his oatmeal across the table. This was far better than just putting itching powder in Dean's underwear. It was better than anything he could have ever imagined.

"I don't… I didn't… I haven't…" Dean stammered. "All I've done is kiss her."

"I knew it!" Sam yelled. "In my room!"

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said rolling his eyes. "I don't have an STD. You have to actually, you know." Dean made a crude hand gesture. "And we haven't. You make us keep the door open!"

"Then explain yourself," John said. "Or stop twitching because it's annoying."

"I'm itchy!" Dean yelled.

"Don't talk to me like that," John growled back. "Look, I'm not an idiot, Dean. I know that you and this girl are getting serious, more serious than I really want to see my fifteen year old getting. We talked about this before the two of you started going together."

"We're not doing anything!" Dean swore.

"Then what's going on with you?" John demanded.

"I don't know!" Dean cried. "All I know is I'm itchy! I didn't do anything."

"The last time you boys did laundry was two weeks ago," John said seriously. "It doesn't take two weeks for the body to react to an irritant. It happens nearly immediately."

"I don't know, Dad," Dean replied, desperation spreading across his face. "Janie and I have done nothing but kiss, and every time we do that you seem to sense it and break it up. I don't have a disease. I swear."

"I'm taking you to a clinic to get it figured out," John said, anger growing in his eyes. "Then lie to my face some more."

And at that point Sam just couldn't hold it in anymore, he started laughing, a fine spray of oatmeal covering the small the table they sat around.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled. "This is too rich."

"Bite me," Dean said rolling his eyes.

"I would," Sam said. "But I don't want to get itching powder in my mouth."

"You little…" Dean reached across the table in an attempt to grab at Sam, but Sam was faster and small and easily got away before Dean to grab him.

"I would have said something before, but you getting lectured is funnier than you being itchy." Sam shrugged.

"What have I ever done to you?" Dean whined, standing up.

"Loads of stuff, Dean," Sam replied. "I could start listing now and not be done until I'm forty!"

"Knock it off, both of you," John said slamming his hand on the table. "I thought this prank shit was over."

"It was until Sam did this," Dean replied.

"You have that girl in my room," Sam spat.

"Doing nothing!" Dean exclaimed. "Sweet Jesus, Sammy. You think I'm pissing on your bed when your not around. I don't need a girl in there to do that. We're doing homework. She's in my math class. Why are you such a little freak!?"

"Don't talk to your brother like that," John sighed.

"You were about to take me to a clinic for an STD I don't have!" Dean yelled. "Why do you always take his side? It's not fair. I don't care that's he's younger. He's being a freak and jerk."

"I have the best to learn from," Sam scoffed.

"Go take a shower," John replied. "I'll take Sam to the laundromat and he'll clean your clothes. I want this prank shit to be over with. I've had enough of the two of you being at each others throats. I've had enough of one of you whining like a girl while the other one laughs. I've had enough of being accused of taking sides by two little children. So this is over. It's over right now!"

John slammed his hand on the table then stood up to leave. He slammed the door of the trailer behind him as he walked out.

"It's not over, Sammy," Dean threatened. "Not even close."