Dean slapped his brother upside the head as he passed him in the upstairs hallway. "You gotta walk to school from the garage today, dork. I got an early shift."
Sam's school was a bit of a hike from Dean's garage - eleven blocks - and normally, Sam would chuff and moan at this revelation, but today, he stayed silent. He stopped in the hallway, right where Dean had dropped the news and stood looking at his brother with an unreadable expression on his face.
Dean grinned, "Forget how to use your words there, Sammy?"
But when Sam swallowed visibly, and Dean noticed the kid's hands had begun to shake, he realized something was up.
"Sam?" Dean's eyes narrowed. Damn. He didn't like the way his brother looked all of a sudden - all the color had gone out of his face, and he looked like he was about to drop. "Sam! What's goin' on, man?" The older boy crowded close, ready to catch the kid if he fell.
"N-nothing." Sam offered up a sickly smile. "It's cool." He turned to make his way downstairs, but Dean wasn't having it.
"Hold up there." Dean grabbed his arm. "You gonna puke?"
But Sam shook him off, recovering. "Let go. I'm fine. Just need something to eat is all."
Dean let go, but his eyes never left his brother as the kid stumbled down the stairs. At the bottom, Sam stopped and glanced back up, and Dean swore he had tears in his eyes.
"What the hell?" Dean muttered, stopping his morning routine and trailing after his brother. But in the kitchen, all he found was Sam - no shaking hands, no teary eyes. The boy bantered with Bobby as usual. They both stopped what they were doing when Dean entered, and they looked at him expectantly.
"Thought you had to be at work this morning?" Bobby asked, sliding two eggs onto Sam's plate.
"Yeah, I do." Dean replied. He glanced toward his brother. "What gives, Sasquatch?"
Sam shook his head, "Don't know what you mean." He mumbled, burying his head in his plate.
Bobby stopped. "I miss something?" he asked the older boy.
Dean studied his little brother, knowing something was off, but unwilling to put the kid on the spot in front of Bobby. "No," he covered, "Just thought Sam wanted to tell me something."
"Nope." Sam answered absently, suddenly interested in the phone book that was propping up one of the legs of Bobby's table.
Dean knew he was lying, but he wasn't willing to push it. Instead he made himself a cup of boiled coffee and stood sipping it silently, shooting glances at his brother when the kid wasn't looking.
"I … I think I might stay home today." Sam suddenly revealed, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Sam didn't stay home from school. Not ever. Not even two days after he'd been strapped down in a basement and used as a human light bulb.
"Hunh?" Bobby asked, words failing him.
Sam shrugged, "Not feeling so good, I guess." He took a large bite of egg. "Maybe I could help you organize the books you got at the museum sale, Bobby?"
Bobby's eyes met Dean's. "I'd love to, Sam, but I ain't gonna be here."
Sam stilled, his fork partway to his mouth, and Dean swore he saw the kid's hand tremble.
"Where … where you goin'?"
Bobby studied the boy. "Got a hunt, Sam. Remember? I'm gonna go help Caleb two towns over. Probably a shifter, and it ain't no fun going up against one of those alone."
Sam looked up hopefully. "I could help? I could …"
"No way." Dean shut him down instantly.
Sam's eyes closed, and he placed his fork carefully back on his plate. "Why not?" He asked, not looking at his brother.
Dean saw the kid's emotions dangling there at the end of his sleeve, but he said it anyway. "Because you're sixteen."
Sam looked angry. But when his eyes met Dean's, all the older boy could see was naked fear.
Sam was terrified of something, and the realization rocked Dean to his core. Then Sam did something that worried Dean and Bobby more than anything that had happened so far.
He begged.
"Please, Dean?" He pleaded. "Please … I …"
Dean swallowed hard, not sure he wanted to hear what his brother was about to say. "What, Sam?"
"I just … I need to go with Bobby, okay? You're gonna be busy all day, and I … I don't wanna ..." He amended his statement, his eyes pleading. "Please? Please let me go?"
Dean felt like a class-A jerk, but there was no compromising on this. No way was his 16-year-old brother going hunting a shifter. "I'm sorry, Sammy. You can't go. The answer is no."
Sam stood up from the table, his hands balled into fists. "You're not my father."
Dean shook his head, hiding his hurt at Sam's words. "Well, I'm the best you got at the moment, Sam."
Sam turned to Bobby. "Please, Bobby? Let me come? I'll stay in the truck. I won't even get out. I promise."
The old hunter hated being caught between the boys, but he had to agree with Dean. Sam was just too young. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm with your brother on this one."
Sam stood alone in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes overflowing, looking like he'd just lost his best friend.
And the sight was enough to nearly break Dean's heart in two.
"Sammy. What's really goin' on? Tell me." Dean asked, stepping forward and tentatively placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. He half-expected Sam to shake him off in an angry show of defiance, but Sam just stood there, looking lost. He wouldn't meet either of their eyes as he said softly. "Well, if I can't, I guess I can't." He took a swipe at his eyes with the back of a hand.
"Sammy …" Dean started, but Sam shook his head and moved past his brother, heading for the stairs. "I'm … I'm going back to bed. I'll see you … when I see you, I guess."
And Dean and Bobby were left alone, feeling like Bobby had just held a puppy down while Dean kicked it.