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. I promise the next couple of chapters will be longer!

John left not too long after their conversation and Sam saw him off with Dean. Once he'd left, they settled down to watch some mindless T.V. and Dean reminded him that "Just because Dad is gone, doesn't mean I'm not still gonna make you practice shooting and fighting outside with me."

Sam just stuck his tongue out at him and settled back into the crook of Dean's arm to watch as Coyote was completely screwed over by ACME INC and Roadrunner for the millionth time. He was never clear on why this was considered 'classic children's television'. It all seemed very violent, peculiar, and really went against every rule of science Newton ever discovered. Not to mention the fact that no matter how often Coyote dived off of a cliff or Daffy was blown to smithereens, they always seemed to be back after the commercial break, angry, but otherwise unscathed. Sam tuned out and used the time for thinking.

He knew he'd have to be much more careful about his comings and goings, with Dean home. He already had a bit saved up, although not quite enough for the jacket yet, and he didn't have the foggiest clue how he'd explain it once he did. He supposed he'd have to play it by ear. It didn't seem practical to say he'd stolen it. Dean had always specified never to take anything of real value because those are the stores that not only hunt you down, but actually press charges and really, they did not need that kind of trouble. Sam would have to think on it some more later.

For now, he needed to do some planning for when he could get out and continue making that well-deserved money. How sad is it when you can list your talents as researching, playing soccer, throwing knives accurately, and blowing men? Sam shook his head. He ought to know better by now than to actually consider these things. Maybe he'd take up whiskey.

In any case, he could go out when Dean went out, but if Dean stayed in, well, obviously he couldn't escape that easily. Dean wasn't going to be leaving him alone too often. Sam scoffed at the thought that Dean was convinced he needed a baby-sitter. But then Sam had an idea. Unless.

Unless the baby-sitter didn't have to be Dean. Sam could go out with Lexy, or she could come over, in the evenings. As to whether she stayed once Dean had left or dropped Sam at Bangkok, well, Dean didn't need to know that. Sam decided to bring it up. He cleared his throat.

"Wassup Sammy?"

"I was thinking-"

"Yeah, you do that too much."

Sam glowered at his brother.

"I know you like going out and getting drunk at night, don't ask me why, and I was going to say that, if you um, wanted, maybe, uh, Lexy could come over." Dean raised a single eyebrow. Sam hurried on. "I mean, cause what Dad said and stuff I thought you might want someone to watch out for me while you're out... doing whatever it is that you do out."

Dean leered at him. "I think you know exactly what I do when I'm out."

Sam's ears grew hot around the tips. His voice got a little louder too. "It doesn't matter, never mind."

He made to get up, but Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to the couch. Sam didn't resist.

"I understand Sam." Dean's tone and face were much gentler now, having lost the mocking edge. He always knew exactly how far he could push his brother.

"I think it's a good idea and if Dad seems to think there might be potentially more danger, we can definitely enlist her. Normally, your word would be fine, but I'll have to see what I think of her before I abandon you to her protection. As it is though, you know how to handle yourself, more than Dad gives you credit for, and it's not like I'm going to go out every single night or anything."

Sam practically glowed with pride. Dean trusted him. Suddenly, a tidal wave of guilt washed over his glow. Dean trusted him to stay home and stay safe and Sam was sneaking out to whore himself out. For Dean though, he insisted to his conscience.

I'm doing it so he doesn't have to worry about me so much. I doubt he'd think it was a fair trade. Sam shoved his conscience to the cobwebbed recesses of his mind and gave it a time-out. Dean had been watching all the emotions flying over Sam's face with a strange interest. He was especially freaked out that it seemed to settle on resignation of all things. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on with his little brother, but Sam beat him to the punch.

"So, I was wondering..."

Dean closed his mouth and waited for Sam to continue.

"Maybe we could rent some movies today? I know Dad wanted us to keep up with practice and training, but maybe we could take a day off?"

Dean smiled hugely and Sam smiled back, both of them looking forward to a long day of pizza, bad action flicks, tacky dialogue, and enough ice cream to make anyone's stomach ache.

"Just this once Sammy, don't think this is going to become a normal thing." Dean warned, grinning as he did so, to let his baby brother know he was just as much a fan of taking some time off to just hang out as the next guy. Besides, when was the last time they had spent a whole day together just hanging out, not worried about anything? Too long ago, Dean decided quickly. He grabbed the newspaper from where their father had left it before, scanning the pages for a local fair or something for them to attend. Watching movies wouldn't be bad; although they'd both been known to go a little stir-crazy sometimes.

"Hey Sammy, there's a Renaissance Faire going on right now. Maybe we could go and you could be among your own kind! Just think how many nerds there'd be for you to play with!"

Sam glared indignantly at his brother.

"Yeah, just think how much you'd eat! And probably try to save some damsel in distress from a toy dragon." Sam snickered at the thought of Dean battling a puppet or someone dressed up. Everyone knew there was no such thing as dragons, but Sam had always wished there could be. He'd love to be a dragon slayer, even if he'd never tell Dean that. Dean waggled his eyebrows.

"You know you're the only damsel for me Samantha."

Sam gritted his teeth and launched a pillow at Dean's head. A drag down, all out war began between the two of them, racing around the couch, hiding in the bathroom, tackling each other and running off, and running crazily in circles. They were both panting hard when they finally came to a truce in the kitchen. Sam's stomach growled loudly and Dean groaned.

"Deeeeeean!" Sam whined, feeling hunger hit him suddenly. He felt almost weak in the knees with it. Considering how small he was, and would always be according to Dean, it really didn't make any sense for him to always be so hungry. Their father assured Sam that there was no such thing as a short Winchester man, and Sam fervently believed him. He'd think of that when Dean was teasing him for his apparently bottomless stomach or being the smallest kid in his class. He knew girls grew and matured faster than boys, really he did, but it was still difficult when they were taller than him, when he had to look up to speak to them. In that way, like so many others, he was jealous of Dean. Sure, it was probably easy to look so smooth and sexy when you could lean down to a girl, tuck a curl of hair behind her ear, and whisper something, tilting her head up to eye level when you spoke.

Sam shivered as his brain dragged him to dirtier places about the benefits of being taller than whoever you were seducing, wishing violently that someday, he'd be taller than his brother; his father too, although he didn't really want to associate his father with his line of thought. But tall, massive even. Mentally, Sam drooled over the thought of being tall, having muscles that stood out, looking older, more mature, more like Dean. Dean who had been steadily growing into his shoulders and whose hands had gotten huge and Sam had watched him grow, a disturbing mixture of jealousy growing as well. Jealous because he wanted to look like that too, but jealous also of the girls who got to have Dean in the only way Sam had ever been denied. It wasn't rational, Sam knew, but there it was. Emotions were a complicated thing.

Dean had been snapping his fingers in front of Sam's face for almost a minute before he seemed to register the movement. After the general teasing for being hungry again so soon after they'd eaten breakfast, Dean had felt the beginnings of worry when Sam seemed so unresponsive. And had such a strange look on his face. Dean had been close to shaking him when Sam began blinking again and returned to the world, shaking himself and sitting down at the table, looking down and then at Dean expectantly. Dean blinked.

"What the hell just happened Sammy?"

Sam shrugged.

"I dunno. I was just thinking is all."

Dean was skeptical. It seemed downright unnatural that someone Sam's age could get that absorbed in his own mind. It was something their father did all the time, but Dean sighed and got to work on some soup as Sam's stomach reminded them both it was hungry NOW. Dean mused as he turned up the heat on the stove. Sam seemed to be growing up and, no matter how much Dean didn't want him to and tried to continually coddle him, much to Sam's anger and dismay, Sam was growing up fast.