Dean, Sam, James, and Melissa arrived at their small house near four. Melissa and James gave them a small tour, telling them to make themselves at home. They left their bedroom for last.

"Ok, and here's the best part; your room!" Melissa beamed. She lead the boys into the room and their jaws hit the floor. The room was beautifully decorated with a soft white rug, beautiful green lamps, clocks that actually worked, their own television, and a king sized bed. The bed had a huge green down comforter and tons of pillows. Sam nearly squealed with delight and ran and flopped on the bed. Dean just walked in the room, in total awe. This was nothing like the room back home.

"Dean look!" Sam yelled, and ran to the small desk in the corner. Sam sat down and flipped on the small desk lamp and bounced in his seat. "This is the best room ever!" Sam smiled, his first real smile in a very long time.

"Yea, thank you, it's…awesome." Dean smiled shyly.

"Ok boys, dinner will be in forty five minutes so-" Melissa was quickly cut off by Dean and Sam hurrying to leave the room.

"Whoa, boys were are you going?" James asked.

"You said dinner is in forty five minutes; we gotta make it." Sam reasoned.

"When you live in this house, you are not ordered to make dinner. Yes we will have you help out around the house, but here you are to be kids, not slaves." Melissa said sadly.

"Really? You don't want us to make dinner?" Sam questioned.

"Yes I am. Finish unpacking and relax. This is your home for now, enjoy it!" Melissa beamed, and followed her husband into the kitchen.

Sam and Dean didn't have anything to unpack. They continued to look around the room, then crept around the rest of the house, getting the lay of the land. They quickly found themselves in the kitchen, watching James and Melissa.

"You boys unpacking already?" James asked.

"Well, sir, we don't have much to unpack." Dean said, head looking at his sneakers.

"Hey Dean?" James asked.

"Yes sir?" Dean quickly answered.

"I'm not a sir, geez, you make me sound like a old man. And in this house, we look in each other's eyes when we speak." James put a finger under Dean's chin and lifted it so they could see each other. "Ok?"

"Yes sir- I mean James, sorry." Dean smiled, eyes moving from James' face to the floor.

"Don't worry, we'll work on it." James smiled, and clapped Dean on the back. He felt the teen flinch under the touch, but seemed to be getting use to "kinder touches."

The four of them quickly made dinner, laughing and joking the entire time. Sam and Dean had never experienced something like this. They were happy, with people who wanted them around. It was nice, and sadly unfamiliar to them. Both were waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under-neath them…

Sam volunteered to set the table. He pulled out four plates but in the process knocked a glass cup out of the cabinet. Both boys held their breath, waiting for the explosion.

Sam scampered off the counter and started to clean the broken glass, Dean quickly following.

"Boys! Wait! You'll cut yourself!" Melissa yelled, causing both boys to immediately drop the glass and shrink back from her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," was all Sam repeated, Dean taking a protective stance in front of his brother.

"Hey, it's ok, it's just a glass. It's not a problem. James, go get the vacuum." Melissa stated quietly, as to not startle the boys. She carefully stepped over the glass and reached a hand for Dean. He quickly put his hand up in front of his face, but when he saw she was not striking him, he grasped her hand. She pulled him to his feet and Dean did the same for Sam. Sam kept his face down, not believing they weren't mad.

"Sam, it's really ok. Those glasses are eight years old, and not a collectors piece." She smiled, gently pushing the boys bangs out of the way.

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They ate a wonderful dinner, the boys eating most of it. They were still living in the moment, get what you can because it will most likely go away.

Dean and Sam offered to do the dishes, and James and Melissa let them. Both boys were so used to being good soldiers that it would take some time to break them of that habit. Melissa and James were watching television when the boys entered the room, after they were finished with the dishes.

"Is there anything else you would like us to do?" Dean asked, still working on the eye contact.

"Actually, I was wondering if we could sit and talk. You can ask us questions and we can ask you questions. This way we know each other better."

Both boys agreed and instantly pelted them with questions. "Where did you live? How did you meet? What did you wanna be when you were little? What's your favorite place?" Melissa and James answered them and asked the boys questions too.

"What do you boys want to be when you grow up?"

Sammy quickly answered, "I wanna be a lawyer!" Dean on the other hand hesitated, his reply was simply, "I never really gave the future much thought."

After two hours of questions and laughing, Melissa decided to dive into the deep end and ask the question, "Who hurts you boys?"

Both boys tensed and fidgeted under the question. Both boys had a silent agreement that they would never tell, because telling would get them in trouble. The boys looked at each other, communicating through their eyes.

Should we? Sam asked.

I don't know. You trust them? Dean asked

I do. Sam nodded.

Dean turned back to the Clarks' and felt his mouth go dry. He didn't know what to do. Finally he spoke out, if only a whisper.

"Our Dad."

"For how long?" Melissa asked

"The first time he beat us was when I was 6 and Sammy was 3."

"Why?" James asked, trying to keep his temper in check. Six and Three? What could they have done to merit a beating?

"I had a accident." Sam whispered, eyes tearing up." He only used to hit us when he was drunk but now, it's all the time."

"Why?" Melissa asked.

"We deserve it. We make mistakes and he punishes as he feels fit." Dean whispered.

"Hey listen you two. Nothing you did should have led your father to beat you. This is not your fault." Melissa stated, but both boys kept quiet.

"Was he the one who beat you this last time?" James asked. Deans face paled and he turned away, not even being able to mention his attackers name.

"No, it was our Dad and his…his friend." Sam choked out, subconsciously running a hand up and down his neck.

"What happened?" Melissa asked.

"I don't want to talk anymore!" Dean yelled, and left the room. Sam quickly followed his brother out of the room.

Melissa and Dean were surprised by Dean's sudden change in attitude.

"I think we're getting somewhere." James said.

"Yea, let's get them to bed, and we'll go to bed as well."

Melissa and James made their way upstairs and said goodnight to the boys, who were still wearing their day clothes.

"Boys, don't you have pajamas?" Melissa asked.

"No, we only have two shirts and two jeans." Dean answered sheepishly.

"Well, tomorrow we'll go shopping." Melissa declared.

James stuck his head around the corner. "Oh boys, are you in for it!" All three guys laughed, and Melissa faked being mad.

"Oh stop. If you need anything, please come get us." She kissed Dean and Sam on the forehead and left the room. The two boys had plenty of room on the gigantic bed but slept right next to each other, peacefully.

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John and Lloyd were in a small diner in New Jersey.

"Did ya get any more information Lloyd?" John asked his friend, who was currently sitting behind a laptop doing research.

"Seems like your rug rats are in a small town in Pennsylvania, living with a cop and his wife."

"Good, we'll find them soon." John nodded, sipping his coffee.

"Yes we will." John missed Lloyd's sick, curved smile.

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Back at the Clark's, three people were woken up by someone screaming…

pLeAsE ReViEw