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: So, i've seen the promo and the clips for this weeks ep.... my response? IT'S ABOUT TIME!

This chapter was... interesting. Not as good as my last couple, but good enough to post ;)

(by the way, when I say I don't think I wrote a chapter all that good, that's because that's honestly what I think. Just me self-assessing myself.)

By the way... just out of extreme curiosity, how old are you guys? If you're not comfortable with answering, you don't have to, but I'm just curious who my audience is. (I'm seventeen. ;P)

Enjoy chapter twelve!

Sleep.

Ah, yes, that elusive thing called sleep.

Dean was downright exhausted, but he couldn't seem to relax himself enough to fall asleep. Maybe it was that he was just too tired to force himself to relax?

No. That was just what Dean wished was causing his insomnia.

It really wasn't unusual for Dean to stay up all or most of the night. Every since his family died, Dean had become a very chronic insomniac.

But tonight, it was not the thoughts of his family that was keeping him awake.

It was Sam.

Of course, what else has been on his mind lately? Even by supernatural standards, Sam was a conundrum in of himself. Because while Dean had come to the definite conclusion that Sam was not, in fact, a demon, it didn't stop Dean from wondering what exactly Sam was.

In all of the research that he had ever done, Dean never came across anything that would fit Sam's description. Well, technically a demon fit the description, but not when it came to behaviour. That was the real conundrum.

But, again, if Dean was honest with himself, he'd admit that that's not what was really on his mind.

Dean couldn't help but think of dinner. Sam refused to eat a single bite. Hell, he refused to even look at the food. It bothered Dean. It made Dean want to almost forcibly shove the food down Sam's throat just to get him to eat something. Except he knew that doing that would just traumatize Sam all the more.

Traumatize him. Dean's mind kept circling this topic; the fact that Sam had, indeed, been traumatized. If he wasn't a true demon and mentally just, in fact, a child, then what Gordon did truly did scar Sam psychologically. The evidence was right before his eyes.

He had gotten Sam to open up just a little that evening, when they talked a little about their mothers. Well, Dean talked about his while Sam couldn't even remember his. But then Sam got scared and closed himself off again, claiming he didn't even deserve to remember his mother or anything else before Gordon.

According to the file, Sam was only fifteen years old. God knows how many years he was in captivity under Gordon, or what Gordon did to him in those years. But Dean had full intention to find out.

More than anything, Dean wanted to make Sam better. Make him more than the shell Gordon has turned him into. He wants to get to know the Sam that's probably locked away, safe and hidden, in a small corner of his mind.

These thoughts actually scared Dean a little. Never in his life has he wanted to do something for someone else so badly. Just something about Sam has hit a chord with Dean. And now he wanted to do everything possible to rectify everything that Gordon did to him.

---

Sam had his eyes closed and was forcing his breathing to remain even, wanting to make absolutely sure the casual observer would think he was asleep.

He wanted Gordon. He wanted Gordon to take him back now. He couldn't take this. The not knowing what was going to happen, the unpredictable nature of these two men.

There was a routine of sorts with Gordon. Sam knew what to expect and he knew precisely what he was. No confusion and no beating arond the bush. Gordon knew what he was a treated him as such. Simple and straightforward.

But these two, this John and Dean, they seemed to be at least slightly confused. They knew he was a demon, but that little fact hasn't seemed to sink into their minds yet. If it had, they would be treating him like Gordon and the other hunters had.

And that's what Sam hated. Hated waiting for it to dawn on them exactly what he was. It just made the small things they did for him even worse. Buying him clothing and food. Everything would be torn away eventually and Sam knew he would be punished for not doing a better job of letting them know what his place was earlier.

And that knowledge is what makes everything that's going on now just that much more painful.

So, in the time that it takes for these two to realize what exactly Sam is, Sam will fulfill his true role to the best of his ability.

He is a demon and deserves nothing more than to rot in hell. If he can't go to hell, than hell will be brought straight to him.

---

Still unable to sleep, Dean crawled out of bed to go to the bathroom. Damn, why was he so tired, yet unable to get any freakin' sleep!?

After relieving himself, he splashed water on his face, trying to clear his mind. I'm not gonna be any good to anyone if I'm dead on my feet.

As Dean walked back to bed, he happened to glanced where Sam was sleeping, when he saw a brief gleam in the darkness. Dean froze, looking closer at Sam. He could have sworn Sam's eyes had been open. On closer inspection, Dean saw that Sam's eyes were closed, but his face was tense. As Dean took a step closer, he heard a hitch in Sam's breathing.

"Sam?" Dean whispered. "Are you awake?"

Sam's chest clenched and his breath involuntarily hitched again. His body started to tremble in fear, but he tried to keep the unnecessary movements to a minimum.

Dean sighed. He knew all too well from experience that Sam was definitely faking. "Sammy, I know you're awake." He knelt on the floor next to the couch, waiting for Sam to acknowledge him. "It's alright. Obviously, I can't sleep either."

Knowing it was pretty much useless at this point, Sam regrettably opened his eyes, jerking a little in surprise to find Dean right in front of him.

Dean smirked when Sam finally opened his eyes. "Hey, kiddo. Having trouble sleeping?"

Sam swallowed, his eyes glowing from the small amount of light streaming in from the window. Not knowing what else to do, he slowly nodded.

"Yeah, me too. Again, obviously." Dean looked over at John, who was completely sound asleep. "The old man can sleep through anything though." He looked back at Sam, who was looking at him with big curious eyes. He could feel his stomach clench as he thought about just how damn innocent Sam looked. "Anything in particular on your mind?"

Sam just shook his head and looked away, trying desperately to stay in his role as a demon. This wasn't a conversation a demon should be having... why couldn't Dean just figure that out, already? It would make everything so much simpler...

Dean frowned when he saw that Sam was starting to silently cry. "Hey, I didn't mean to upset you or anything..." He leaned forward and ran a thumb over Sam's cheek to rub the tears away, when Sam jumped back from the touch. He stared at Dean with something akin to fear as his breathing hitched.

Dean hesitated, his hand hovering inches from Sam's face. "I'm not gonna hurt you, Sam. I promise."

Sam didn't respond and the look in his eyes didn't go away. But after a moment, he gave a slight nod.

Dean smiled, rubbing his thumb over Sam's cheeks. Normally, Dean would have never been caught dead doing anything like this. Chicks are the ones who do this kinda crap...

But he could feel Sam relaxing under his touch, and as cliché as it sounded, it made Dean feel so incredibly good to be making someone else feel better. It was different than saving a person's life. This was on a much deeper level that Dean didn't even know he was capable of reaching.

This, more than anything, just intensified the need to help Sam; to make him better.

Sam closed his eyes as Dean touched his face again. It was odd... how soothing it was to have a rough thumb gently trying to make you relax. Sam could almost feel the tension fall from his body in small little pieces. It made Sam feel bad that he ended up crying more in response, but... for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel... like he was doing something wrong.

When he realized his tears were falling down more earnestly, he quickly brought his own hand up to try and stop the tears. "Sorry..." he mumbled quietly.

Dean just smiled wider. "It's okay, Sam." He put his hand back in his lap, watching Sam trying to compose himself. "You sure you don't wanna talk?"

Sam nodded automatically, still trying to get his tears to stop. He sat up as he started to hiccup, his silent crying not staying so silent any longer.

Dean watched Sam in sympathy, feeling a little awkward again. Not wanting John to wake up, (not wanting him to see Dean acting like such a girl), he straightened so he was on his knees in front of Sam, and wrapped his arms around him.

Sam only stiffened for a moment as Dean hugged him, almost immediately afterword relaxing into his arms. He didn't even know why he was crying like this. It was just something about what Dean was doing... it made his chest ache and then the tears came. When Dean hugged him, his sobbing just increased, his body shaking in uncontrollable spasms. Sam was starting to drown in some sort of grief, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what was causing this. Finally, instead of trying to work out this strange puzzle, Sam just let himself go. He sobbed hard and long into Dean's shoulder, gripping the back of his shirt tightly. He soaked up the comfort Dean was offering and, in a moment of insanity, hoped that Dean never let go.

It was a little awkward at first. But soon Dean was rubbing his hands up and down Sam's back (cringing as his fingers rubbed over Sam's shoulder bones and ribs) and quietly making shushing noises in Sam's ear, trying to get him to calm down. It started to feel really natural, when Dean suddenly realized what he was doing.

Dean was sleeping peacefully for the most part. But then he heard the pitter patter of feet and his door slowly squeaking open. Dean mentally rolled his eyes.

"De?"

Dean sighed as he turned over in his bed to face Adam. "What?"

Adam shifted back and forth from foot to foot as he fiddled with his pajama tops. "Can I sleep wit' you tonight?"

Dean visibly sagged in bed. "Go sleep with Mom and Dad..."

Adam sniffed as he brought up a pajama sleeve to wipe his nose with. "Please, De. I'm scared..."

Dean sighed. He knew Adam just had a nightmare, but he couldn't figure out why he couldn't just slip into their parents' bed. They didn't mind. So, Dean lifted the covers, albeit reluctantly, and let his snot-nosed brother crawl in beside him.

Adam smiled as he wrapped his small arms around Dean's chest and rested his head against Dean's shoulder. "T'ank you, De..."

Dean curled his nose up a little as he imagined his brother's snot getting rubbed onto his pajamas, but didn't say anything. He wrapped his own arms around Adam's body and automatically started to rub his back in comforting circles.

Soon they were both peacefully asleep.

Dean's stomach lurched at the memory. He almost pushed Sam away, not wanting any reminders of the past, especially not now. But Sam was still hiccuping in his arms, his sobbing finally starting to quiet. So, ignoring the small trip down memory lane, Dean just kept soothing Sam until he stopped crying completely and he only had the occasional hiccup.

Slowly, Dean sat back, still keeping his hands on Sam's shoulders. His shirt was wet and starting to get cold, but he kept his attention on Sam. "You sure you don't wanna talk?"

Sam shook his head, keeping his gaze away from Dean. For entirely new reasons, Sam did not want to have eye contact with this man.

It broke Dean's heart that this small skeletal creature in front of him was fifteen years old. At that age, Dean had already had sex several times and gotten drunk more times than he can count.

Suddenly Dean had a horrible thought about Sam being forced into sex, but he quickly pushed that thought away. This was neither the time or place for such thoughts.

Dean sighed, giving Sam a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Try to get some sleep. Trust me, it's not that comfortable sleeping in a moving car." With this, Dean stood and went back to bed. He almost immediately fell asleep, his mind pondering...

What the hell just happened?

Sam remained still until he was sure Dean was asleep. He felt the tears well up again, and goddammit! Why was he crying again?

He laid back down and buried his face in the pillow, trying desperate to hide muffle sobs that were bubbling out of his throat.

What's going on...? What's happening to me?

John turned over in his bed and finally fell asleep.

By the way, I will not be having any rape in this fic, just to let you know :P

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