I usually do an intro, but I totally spaced out earlier. There is a warning for swearing, thoughts of depression and stuff, mentions/actions of eating disorders, heavy stuff, and possible self harm. And thanks to everyone who decides to review! I don't care if this story is months or years old, a review is a review and I'll take it however I can get it.

Sam is 13 going on 14

Dean is 18

I don't own SPN.

It didn't take long for the impala to stop moving again. This time at a shabby apartment building. It looked to be about 6 stories tall. The brick was faded to a brow and gray, the windows had worn curtains, and the ally beside it didn't look very safe. Pretty sketchy to me, that's probably why we have it, cheap.

" Each of you grab your duffel and find the door with the number 2 on it," John said while heading to what looked like the office.

" Can we even get into it without the key?" Dean asked.

" It should be unlocked," John called back and we all split ways. We had to climb two sets of stairs to get to our door. I opened it and looked inside. We walked into the living room. There was a pinkish couch, two recliner chairs, a rug, and a TV. The next room was the kitchen, on the left side of the living room. There was a stove, microwave, fridge, and a small table with three chairs. A hallway that connected both to the kitchen as well as the living room had four doors. Two on each side. The hall itself was pretty wide too. The first door on the left was a closet filled with cleaning supplies. The first door on the right was a bedroom, obviously the master. That meant that'd be dad's room. Second on the left was the bathroom. It was rather large. It had a nice shower, surprisingly clean. In fact, so far, everything has been clean. There is minimal peeling of wallpaper from the walls, the furniture is faded but clean, and the floors look swept. The last door on the right was obviously going to be our bedroom. There was already two beds with clean sheets, one bureau, one shelf, and a trash can. The beds were on each side of the rug floored room. The bureau was in between the beds, and shelf on the right side

"I call left and the bureau, you get right and the shelf," Dean said without letting Sam argue. That's usually how it went. Dean got to choose what he wanted and left Sam with whatever else there was. For today he was fine with it. There's just no point in fighting. He had little will to even try.

Sam went over to his new bed, one of many he has already had. It looked rather clean, okay to sleep on. Sam plopped on it, being utterly exhausted. Not eating enough was wearing him down. It has only been two weeks, but it was doing it's job. In fact, Sam hasn't even checked his weight for a while. He got up from the bed his body craved and to the bathroom. He was very pleased to find a scale in one of the corners. He stepped on and saw the numbers lay out in front of him. He wasn't sure weather or not it was a good thing he now weighed 128.6 lbs. Although he knew he wasn't really overweight, a nagging feeling in his gut told him he needed to lose more.

He looked at himself and wondered if Dean or is father have noticed. They had to have. He lost nearly 10 lbs in 2 weeks. Shouldn't they be proud of him? He needed to lose more. Just enough so that his dad will love him the way he loves Dean.

Sam laid in bed that night after pretty much avoiding any talk and social interaction, just thinking. All he could ever think about was all the calories that entered him system and if he was able to burn it off. He has found that he doesn't even get really hungry. Of coarse he does sometimes, but he's finding it easier to resist himself. And for that, he is proud of himself. Not eating candy, or cake, it makes him happy. Almost like he accomplished something for once in his life.

Sleeping was one of the best parts about being alive. He could get away from people and living for hours on end even if it felt like mere seconds. He finds it harder and harder to get up in the morning. But when he realizes that he needs to to get his father's approval, he finds the inner strength to get up.

This morning he was sitting on the couch, nearly spacing out when Dean came into the living room with a packet from the school he will be attending.

Dean started to fill out the forms, speaking out loud to himself.

" Height 5'7, weight 140, town of residence Derry, age 13-"

"14," Sam corrected. Dean looked up and knitted his brow.

" What? You're 13." Dean said, confused.

" Yesterday was my birthday you moron." Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean's face went paler than Sam could ever think possible. The guilt and shame that came across Dean's face in an instant was past anything Sam had ever seen. He had hoped that Dean would be guilty, but no where to this level.

" Oh my god Sam, I totally spaced out! I'm so sorry," Dean said, almost wanting to cry. He was so ashamed of himself.

" Dean its fine," Sam said not even meaning it.

" No it's not Sam, We forgot your special day," Dean got up from his seat.

" Where are you going?"

" I'm going to call dad and arrange a day out or something," Sam's face went cold. He couldn't let Dean do that. His father would think he was a baby.

" No Dean please, it's fine. I even got candy for myself from the store. Trust me it's totally fine." Sam said surprisingly convincingly.

Dean stopped in his tracks," Are you sure?" He asked one final time.

" Yes Dean. I promise," Sam smiled and started to think again about the calories.

I know its short, but I'm tired...