Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever own anything related to Supernatural. I do own my own characters and places though.

Beta'd by Miss Tam!

A/N: Italics are memories and thoughts. Also I've kind of modeled where they are after my home town in California, but not exactly. I've also attempted to set it in 1995, as Sam is 12, Dean is 16, so apologies if I've mucked it up. Comments and reviews are loved! Other colors represent characters' writing.

Sam was suspicious. He'd woken up around 10am, disoriented and confused. He'd been expecting to be woken up at some ungodly hour by Dean ruffling his hair and saying goodbye. Maybe his father giving him a look and a "Stay out of trouble son," or something like that. He certainly hadn't been prepared to be allowed to sleep in and the extra sleep was somehow muddling his brain.

Upon moving into the kitchen, however, he noticed his father sitting at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper and sipping a large mug of coffee; looking for all the world like a normal father on a lazy Saturday morning. Sounds of sizzling and smacking filled the air, accompanying the smell of bacon crisping. Dean was humming something, that may or may not have been Hells Bells. He was swiftly going back and forth between a pan of bacon, jumping in its' grease; a pan of eggs scrambled with tomatoes in one half and green peppers in the other; and a small pot of something else. His father gave him a small smile and raised his eyebrows.

"You going to join me?"

Sam was bewildered, although his grogginess was quickly fading. He was tempted to mutter Christo, but he still wasn't awake enough to want to fight with his family; no matter how strangely they were behaving. Nevertheless, he sat down, gaping as Dean continued to hum and cook. Sam was still blinking stupidly a few minutes later when Dean handed him a mug. Sam just looked at it. Slowly, he raised it to his lips to inhale. It was hot chocolate. And it had been made with milk. Someone was feeling guilty.

"It's kinda hot, so maybe wait a minute or two before gulping that down, ya hear?"

Sam nodded, still silent and half-asleep, trying to understand what was going on around him. His father flipped to the next page of the newspaper. Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously. With both Dean and Dad acting so nice, Sam was positive that they were about to tell him something that he was not going to like. He'd experienced this before, although not for a long time. By now, now that he was old enough to really understand what was going on, their father usually just said whatever was on his mind and expected them to follow his order blindly. Sam was already beginning to have his doubts about the intelligence of that, but he kept them to himself. Mostly.

He waited for his drink to cool down and for the other shoe to drop. Instead, a plate heaped full of eggs and bacon was dropped in front of him, with a fork already buried in the yellowy goodness. Sam considered his breakfast. He shrugged internally, figuring that it'd be worth having a full stomach before the looming argument began. He ate excruciatingly slowly, savoring the home cooked meal.

Dean cooked for him, a lot actually, but usually it wasn't something with fresh milk or green peppers (something Sam adored and Dean had admitting to only putting up with for Sam's sake). More often than not, scrambled eggs came from cartons of pre-mixed liquid, had no milk whipped in with them, and bacon came only in diners. Dean came over and sat down with his own plate, frowning when he realized Sam had barely touched his food.

"Sam? Are you feeling okay?"

Dean asked, a touch uneasily. His face was torn between worry for Sam and... something else. Sam looked closer. An emotion kept flitting in and out of Dean's eyes as he glanced back and forth between Sam and Sam's plate. Dean swallowed carefully looking down at his own food with a touch of sadness, flicking his eyes back to his brother questioningly. Oh. He was waiting for Sam's approval.

Sam realized he was being kind of an ass and shoveled a big bite into his mouth quickly. It was still pretty hot and he burned his tongue as well as the back of his throat, but when he let out a few small noises of pleasure, it was worth it to see Dean relax and dig into his own meal. Sam coughed a few times and Dean abandoned his fork to quickly pour Sam a glass of water and bring it over. Sam sipped it slowly, waiting for his chest to stop spasming. Dean went back to eating, eyes trained on Sammy until he was sure that his brother was done coughing. If their father had witnessed the exchange, he made no comment on it. He waited until Sam and Dean were almost done before he started talking.

"Now, there is another hunt."

Sam's fork hit the table with an accusing clang and his suddenly watery eyes dropped to his lap. He knew this was coming, so why did it still manage to upset him so much? His father, seemingly unaware of him, continued.

"However, I wasn't the only hunter to respond to the distress call. As such, and due to the nature of the hunt I am opting to have Dean stay here."

Sam ducked his head further to hide the crazy smile widening on his face. He felt like he probably looked pretty dopey. Dean seemed surprised. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth scrunched up. He probably wasn't even aware of how adorable he looked when he made his perplexed face and Sam sure as hell wasn't going to tell him, for fear he wouldn't do it anymore.

"But, uh, Dad, I thought that um...?"

Their father cocked his head at Dean and bit the very tip of his tongue, before swallowing the rest of the swig of coffee he'd just taken. Dean abruptly stopped speaking and Sam felt a strange combination of anger that Dean already knew about this and hadn't said anything, and satisfaction that his brother was hearing something new too. It seemed, lately, like all Sam ever did was sit and be told things that Dean had known about for quite some time and he was sick of always being the last to know. Sometimes, it helped to see that his big brother could be out of the loop too.

"It turns out that there are a few nests which are connected. Like a network. We're going to need to lay down some plans and get a lot of issues sorted out before we can even do reconnaissance. I guess I just figured that you'd be bored by a bunch of old men arguing. Most of them won't even tolerate any hunters under 18 so you'd be doing some real menial tasks if you came. I've been dragging you around a lot lately. Even a Winchester needs some time to rest and recover."

John finished his coffee with a mighty gulp and a belch. He folded the newspaper and set it down on the table, looking straight at his sons, his teasing tone gone. Dean had gnashed his teeth and balled his hands into fists at the idea that he wasn't old enough or capable enough to work as a member of a team, but he calmed down to continue listening when he saw his father lose the joking manner.

"It's not just that though."

Sam looked up at the abrupt mood change. His father hesitated, although his sons weren't sure why. He gave a sideways glance to Sam.

"I'm not saying anything is going to happen, because I don't think it is, but one of the vamps got wind of some hunters on their trail. This happened before I joined the hunt, so they told me about it a couple of days ago. Vampires, in general, are not killers. They take some blood, an amount that isn't fatal, from their victims and usually abandon them. Sometimes at a hospital if they're feeling generous.

I wouldn't claim to be their biggest fan, but their leaders don't want the attention, so mostly they fly under the radar. Too often for my taste, a group will break off, yelling about their rights as a superior species and them being at the top of the food chain so why should they let the humans live? It's the same with turning, I've gathered. These rebel groups indiscriminately turn people. Whereas usually there are formal ceremonies and many rules, not the least of which being that the person has to want it. I guess basically, this group of bloodsuckers threatened the hunters' families; claiming any who even remotely helped extinguish their connected clan would be placing their loved ones in danger."

Sam was actually immensely impressed at his father's description. The fact of the matter was, a year ago, maybe even a few months ago, John would never have been able to make the distinction between true monsters and monsters of circumstance. He'd have wanted to kill them all. Sam wasn't sure if that meant his father was starting to choose his battles or if his knowledge and tolerance was expanding, however minutely. He wanted to believe the former. Dean rolled his eyes; not sure why his father was making such a big deal out of nothing. He'd been worried just now!

"Dad, all monsters say that."

His father nodded gravely. "And the ex-wife and 3 daughters of Jason Catraz, the one who first located them and sent out the distress call, were found dead yesterday afternoon. All of the blood had been drained from them, but it looks like the vamps then slashed them up, just for the hell of it. No one is even sure how they found out about him or why they did this, other than as a warning to stay out of their business. There was some serious torture there and no one's sure if they were already dead when it happened."

Dean paled and sat back heavily in his chair. He knew his father was implying rape, even if he didn't want to mention it out loud. Don't need to scare Sammy after all. He's old enough to know what's going on and to learn to protect himself, but there's no reason to be throwing ideas like that around. He has nightmares as it is. He nodded a few times, biting his lip before he said anything.

"Gotta look after Sammy."

John nodded his confirmation. "Now, I did just agree to help and, as of yet, I haven't actually done anything. It might be that the principle man who began all this will be the only one to suffer, sad as it may be. Just keep an eye on your brother, but I don't think you need to be especially worried,"

John grinned crookedly at his oldest.

"I think you can still go out at night, anyway."

Dean grinned back and Sam rolled his eyes, getting up to put his plate, fork, and mug in the sink. John sat back.

"I don't really have any idea how long this is going to take, so I'm going to leave you two with quite a bit of money. Make sure that you only spend it on groceries, you hear?"

"Yessir." They chorused. Dean got up and cleared his and John's places and proceeded to begin washing the dishes. Sam was so happy he could barely contain his glee. After a moment's consideration, he abandoned his normally grouchy and wary exterior (ever since he hit eleven anyway, which was a long time ago, damnit!) to go hug his father tightly. John was surprised, but returned the hug gruffly. Before he let go, Sam whispered:

"Thanks Dad."

John nodded tersely, and Sam just about skipped off to his and Dean's room.