Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts

Sam and Dean are unrelated and 19 and 15.

No spoilers here, but seriously... DEAN! GET OVER YOURSELF! Seriously. I miss the Dean from seasons 1-3. T^T That Dean was protective and big-brotherly.

This story really DOES resemble True Brotherhood, doesn't it? -_-' Apparently I borrow from myself. *Fail*

Anyway, this chapter is not my best written work. Mostly just a layover point in the story :P

Enjoy chapter eleven!


John sighed at his own indecision as he waited for the food. All of this was way too much for him.

He could handle Dean. Hell, he has become very attached to Dean over the last few years. Kid had a good heart. Sure, he had obviously been a raving alcoholic and the town's pimp before he met him. But considering Dean had only been sixteen, John was much more inclined to blame Dean's parents for his behaviour. He knew it wasn't right to think badly about the dead, but Dean's parents obviously did something wrong if their son was that wasted at the age of sixteen.

But after his family died, fueled by a need for revenge not unlike John, Dean sobered up almost immediately and buried himself in hunting. It was not an easy first month, between the grief and the withdrawal from alcohol. But Dean managed to muscle his way through it. While John never let him help on demon hunts, Dean had studied everything he could on demon lore. John was sure that boy could put Bobby to shame at this point. But over the last few years, John has seen how compassionate Dean really is, despite his temper, and it actually made John feel guilty that he's been encouraging Dean to pursue hunting. That boy didn't deserve this life.

But even if John had tried harder to convince Dean to live a normal life, Dean would have still downright refused. He felt as though the responsibility of his entire family rest on his shoulders and wouldn't be lifted until he feels his family has been avenged. And in his mind, nothing else was going to put his mind to rest.

So, John has been dealing with all of this for the last few years. The last thing he needed was to deal with Sam, who seemed like a perfectly fine... thing. But the issues Sam have are way beyond John's call of duty. Even if they proved indefinitely that Sam was, in fact, innocent, he has been traumatized to such an extent that John didn't even know where to start. He couldn't do this alone.

He needed help.

---

For the longest time, Dean just sat there with an arm around Sam's shoulders, his mind wandering aimlessly.

At some point, Sam hesitantly leaned his head to rest on Dean's shoulder. At first, Sam's head just lightly touched his shoulder, testing the waters so to speak. When nothing happened, Sam slowly allowed the full weight of his head to lean there. His body tensed, waiting for some sort of reprimand. But then, when Dean did nothing to hurt him, his body relaxed. He was still trembling minutely, but his bony body was now mostly relaxed against the back of the couch and Dean's side.

Dean watched Sam silently through his process. He wanted to see what Sam would do without Dean's influence. So he didn't even move as Sam tried to allow himself a small pleasure. When he finally started to relax against Dean's shoulder, Dean couldn't help but smile. He gently rubbed his fingers up and down Sam's arm, ignoring how bony it was and trying to get Sam to relax even just a little bit more.

Sam had no idea what he was doing. The feeling of the solid, warm arm on his shoulders was confusingly comforting. Oh, how Sam has yearned for a comforting human touch like this. It made Sam feel guilty, knowing he didn't deserve this kind of human contact, but he couldn't bring himself to shrug it away as he should. It wasn't until Dean's fingers started to slowly rub his arm that Sam noticed that his head was resting on Dean's shoulder. Sam stiffened in fear for a moment, fearing Dean's reaction. But moments passed and Dean didn't do anything. He didn't shove Sam away and spit on him, he didn't try to dump holy water on him, or anything else. So Sam slowly allowed his body to relax, though his shaking didn't cease.

Dean felt oddly... protective. He felt this impulse to just wrap his arms around Sam and protect him from everything that Gordon did to him.

Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes when he realized he was thinking this. He wasn't one for the touchy feely crap. In fact, he abhorred anything resembling a chick flick moment. It wasn't like him at all to have these sort of... impulses.

But feeling Sam's skeletal body trembling against his, Dean couldn't help but feel very protective over him. He had no idea why, but the feeling was there.

The voice in his head kept repeating to him that this thing was a demon, the same kind of creature that murdered his family. The same god damned thing that ended Adam's life as he screamed for his big brother...

But that voice was getting smaller and smaller the more time he spent with Sam.

He had only known him a few days, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that Sam was harmless. If he was dangerous, he would have at least broken a window by now. Or something.

But no. The most damage he's done is to himself. Either by hitting himself or ignoring his human needs, he has only harmed himself since Dean met him just a few short days ago. He may react to holy water and iron and be bound by a devil's trap, but he was the least demonic being Dean has ever met. Demons goad others and thrive on their pain. Hell, sometimes they thrive on their own pain. But from what Dean can tell, all Sam wants to do is hide in the background; bring as little attention to himself as possible and be completely compliant. Dean's met humans more demonic than Sam.

Dean had no idea what Sam was. But the one thing he's sure of is that Sam is not a demon.

---

Sam jumped as John came into the motel room, a spike of fear shooting through him. He sat up straight and leaned away from Dean, silently chiding himself for having given himself that comfort.

Dean jerked his arm away in surprise as Sam jumped. He watched as Sam immediately sat up and stiffened, his gaze downward. Dean was starting to figure out that this was Sam's default position when he didn't know what to do with himself or was scared.

John dumped the food on the table as he shrugged his jacket off. "Eat up. I wanna hit the road as soon as possible."

Dean frowned. "Where we going?"

"Bobby's."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Bobby's? Why?"

John's gaze flickered to Sam's prone form before returning to Dean. "I've talked to him about what's going on. He wants to see us."

Dean nodded. He's met the grizzled hunter only once, but it was a good first impression. He was about John's age, but snarky and really knew his stuff when it came to anything supernatural. Not that John didn't, but John always called Bobby when there was something they needed help with.

Yeah, Sam probably qualifies.

"But first," John said as he sat down at the small table. "We eat."

Dean looked over at Sam, suddenly remembering trying to get him to eat a single fry. Oh, this should be interesting. He got up and helped John empty the brown bag of food. His eyebrow went up again as he pulled out a salad.

"Figure it'll be easier for him to get down," John said quietly, avoiding Dean's stare.

Dean looked at John with a small frown. No way...

John was embarrassed. Whether he was embarrassed for being caught buying salad or being caught trying to do something kind, Dean didn't know. But he did find it very amusing.

John looked at Dean and his eyes narrowed when he saw the smug expression on the young man's face. "What?"

Dean shook his head innocently. "Nothing." He put the salad down and walked back to the couch, a serious expression replacing the look of amusement. "Sam?"

Sam lifted his head slightly in acknowledgment, but said nothing.

Dean sighed as he knelt down in front of Sam. Wanting to get Sam out of his shell but not knowing how, he placed a hesitant hand on Sam's knee. Dean shifted uncomfortably as he felt the impossibly small knee cap under his hand. He doubted he would ever get used to just how skinny Sam was. "We got some food for you here."

Sam stiffened, involuntary tears brimming in his eyes at the mere thought of food and what torture Dean might have in mind.

"I know you don't like to eat," Dean said quickly, trying to keep Sam from getting too upset. "But I promise, we're not gonna hurt you."

Sam's trembling remained steady as he gave a small nod, not really believing him.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "C'mon, Sam. I don't know what Gordon did to you. But I promise, we will not do the same."

Sam nodded uncomprehendingly again and stood, keep his arms down at his sides and his gaze at his feet.

Dean indicated the table. "Let's sit down."

Sam followed Dean numbly and sat down where he told him to. The salad was placed in front of him and he just stared at it. He kept his hands firmly in his lap. His past lessons have made sure that Sam would never even be tempted by food ever again.

John watched Sam with a sort of sadness. He could tell that Sam had no desire whatsoever to even try and eat. What could Gordon have done to push Sam into such a mentality?

Dean nudged the salad toward Sam, desperate for him to gain a few pounds. "C'mon Sam..." Dean said pleadingly. "Eat."

This time, Sam shook his head, still avoiding eye contact.

"Why not?" Dean said. "You obviously need the food. Why won't you eat?"

Sam just shrugged. "Not allowed," he said quietly.

Dean sighed. "Sam. You ate that fry back in the car, remember?"

Sam frowned. He took a moment to try and remember what Dean was talking about. When he did, his stomach clenched at the memory.

"You ate something and we didn't hurt you." Maybe logic will get through to him, Dean thought hopefully. "We had no reason for hurting you then because you ate something. There's no reason for us to hurt you now."

Sam swallowed hard, looking at the salad again. His stomach already started to ache at the sight of it. He shook his head again. "Please don' make me..." he whimpered. "Please...?"

Dean closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had absolutely no response for that.

John sighed, leaning forward and stabbing some of the lettuce with the plastic fork. He held it up to Sam's face. "C'mon Sam. Just a bite."

Sam's eyes widened at the fork hovering in front of him. Suddenly feeling cornered and very ill, Sam shrunk back into his chair, his trembling increasing. "N-no..."

John sighed, placing the fork down. He looked over at Dean, who had been watching and now look very disappointed. John looked at him with an expression that said, Hey. I tried.

Dean really, really wanted to hit something right now. Mentally restraining himself, he started eating his own meal. He was almost ravenous at this point, but felt slightly guilty that he at least had the ability to eat. He turned slightly away from Sam, trying to push him out of his mind for the moment so he could eat his burger in some semblance of peace.


Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD