A/N: Exams are over! Sorry this took sooo long
It was still dark, and the chill in the cramped dirt room was growing. The man hadn't shown his face in half an hour, and Dean was still trying to open the damned door. Sam was leaning against the wall, the cold seeping into his head.
"Maybe it's time we try something else" Collins sighed; he had rocked the baby into a stupor and was now trying desperately to get Dean or Sam to explain themselves.
"Maybe it's time you shut your mouth" Dean grumbled kicking the door one last time to no avail. The temperature was getting lower and Sam could see his breath. Suddenly, a tiny voice whispered in Sam's ear. It was a cold voice, a small voice filled with anger and false friendliness.
"You understand, don't you Sam?" The voice asked and Sam whipped his head around for the source of the din, but the man chose to remain invisible. "You, of all people know how horrible this world is for children…you've seen the monsters, Sam." Sam stood up straight,
"Dean" he said softly trying to get his brother to pay attention to the disembodied voice, but he and Collins were arguing again and neither of them seemed to notice the voice, or Sam.
"You don't need him, Sam, do you? You know he's always been there for you, but you're going to have to learn to deal with life without your big brother to save the day." Sam shook his head, and remained silent. "I can tell your childhood wasn't exactly a sitcom, Sam…" The voice trailed off and the room started to spin in front of Sam's eyes.
"Dean" Sam said a little more loudly, Dean finally stopped yelling at Collins and turned to his little brother who was slumped up against the wall.
"Sam? Sammy?" Dean felt the worry steal his voice as he rushed over to the dizzy younger Winchester. He shook his little brother's head trying to wake him up as Sam's eyes rolled back in his head.
"Sammy, you sit here…I'll be back in a few hours, Dean you're in charge." John Winchester's ragged face had lines on it that no man his age should have. His eyes had enough emptiness in them to rival the stares of comatose patients, and Sam knew that he wasn't going to be hunting anything that didn't come in a bottle.
"Yes, Sir." Dean said sitting on the almond couch with enough curious stains to scare away four year old Sam. Sam just nodded his bushy head to his father and sighed a little as the door shut quietly, as if his father was trying to be gentle.
"So, Sammy, what do you want for dinner?" Dean asked, pulling up a chair to the counter in their kitchenette so he could reach the cupboard. His big green eyes were met with the meager portions that the tiny family had to eat and they darkened. "Peanut butter and jelly, or….jelly and peanut butter?" Dean asked a small smile on his lips.
"I'm not hungry" the youngest Winchester pouted, lumbering over to the bedside table.
"You're always hungry" Dean grumbled knowing that Sam was. Getting no snide response from his witty little brother Dean decided to speak again, "What are you doing?" Dean asked, as he unscrewed the lid to the peanut butter. There was hardly any left, probably only enough to spread over one slice of bread. He sighed and opened the jelly, hoping he could make up for the lack of peanut butter, however there was even less jelly.
"Reading" Sam said pulling out the drawer of the tiny oak table. Dean raised his eyebrows and climbed off of the chair, taking two slices of bread from the half of loaf that they had and grabbing a knife from the drawer below the sink.
"Reading? Reading, what?" Dean asked preparing to make his patented pb and j sandwich.
"A book" Sam said a hint of whine in his voice. Dean looked over his shoulder and saw his tiny little brother curled up in the center of the queen sized bed, the bible in his hands. Immediately his stomach dropped and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"You know none of that's true, don't you, Sammy?" Dean asked and Sam looked up from the thin pages with a frown,
"Why can't it be true?" Sammy asked,
"Well, it's just a story you know" Dean said spreading the peanut butter on one slice of bread and carefully cleaning the knife before spreading the jelly on the other slice. "There's no such thing as God." The morbid statement coming out of the mouth of an eight year old would have been shattering if Sam had expected anything else. Their father had screamed into Dean the absence of God at an early age, Sam had been spared the lectures because he was just a baby but Dean's cold eyes were hardened from the ignorance of youth being ripped from them at an all too early age.
"Why not?" Sam asked his eyes still filled with the belief in Santa Clause and the tooth fairy, which Dean considered equally as childish as the belief in God.
"There just isn't" Dean said, remembering his father's voice which echoed in his ears,
"Nothing will save these people if we don't, there is nothing good out there to help them…you hear me? Nothing." The emptiness he had felt in the air around him that night was unforgettable, and he hadn't been able to shake the feeling of aloneness. He finished his sandwich and cut it diagonally into two perfect triangles, with a triumphant smirk he stepped back and admired his work.
"Well then who is watching out for us?" Sammy asked closing the leather book and eyeing his brother's sandwich hungrily.
"Dad is" Dean said ripping a paper towel off of the roll and wrapping the sandwich in it. "Now eat." Dean had walked over to his little brother and held out the perfect sandwich to him, the little boy grabbed it eagerly and after the first bite he looked at his brother curiously.
"Where's your sandwich, Dean?" He asked and Dean smiled,
"I ate it already, gosh Sammy, don't you pay attention?" Sam furrowed his brow but didn't press the matter any further.
Sam remembered that night vaguely, he had thought that Dean had eaten already, but now he knew better, now he wasn't four.
"Dad?" It was Dean's voice that broke Sam's slumber, his brother had been waiting up like an anxious parent for his father to come back in.
"Hey, Dean" John had said tip towing in the small room as if he really thought that either of his
boys were asleep, "are you hungry? Did you guys eat?" Even though John's vision was blurred he still felt
a little twang of fatherly responsibility. Dean shook his head,
"Yeah, we ate, I made sandwiches" Dean said and John nodded walking into the kitchen. He
opened the cupboard and frowned, he could have sworn that they had more food then that, he just didn't
seem to have time to go food shopping anymore.
"What did you guys do?" John asked, rubbing his forehead and kicking off his shoes.
"I watched some T.V and Sammy read." Dean said letting out a little sigh.
"Read? What was he reading?" John hadn't bought any books in a while, and Sammy had lost
his copy of Time magazine a week ago.
"The book that comes with the room" Dean said sleepily, his father being in the room Dean could finally let down his guard and let sleep enter his head.
"What book?" John's voice was harsh as it sliced through the air and Dean's big sleepy eyes snapped back and focused on his father who seemed to have grown five feet in height. Dean didn't answer and John raked a hand through his hair. With a great sigh he walked over to the end table, he didn't see Sam's wide eyes staring at him from underneath the covers as he slid open the drawer carefully as if some hidden foe was laying inside waiting to pounce. He gingerly lifted the leather bound bible into his hands and held it as if it was a deadly poison. "This book?" He asked the anger in his voice barley veiled by the false calm he had gotten very good at creating. Dean nodded, his eyes wide he'd never really been afraid of his father, but he had seen him angry and it was rather unpleasant.
"Yes, Sir" John narrowed his eyes and dropped the bible back into the drawer and kneeled in front of his eldest son.
"You know how I feel about that book, son" he said keeping his rising emotions in check.
"Sorry, Sir." Dean mumbled but John continued to stare down the eight year old,
"I don't want you or your brother reading it, is that clear?" He asked and Dean nodded, "you have to know that it's not real, none of it!" His voice was growing with suppressed anger that wasn't necessarily directed towards his son, he was angry at God, and Dean was the closest thing he could take it out on.
"I know, Sir." John groaned, why did Dean have to be so damn compliant? Why couldn't he give his father something to yell at?
"Do you? Do you know that there is nothing out there that can help you? There is no good force out there that is going to take care of you, so you've got to take care of yourself. There is nothing out there that is going to save your brother either, you hear that? Nothing out there is looking to help us out, the things that are out there want to hurt us. There is nothing that you can't see that you can believe in, okay? Only believe what you can see, have faith in reality." Dean's wide eyes filled with tears, but he swallowed them and shrunk away from his father,
"Yes, Sir." Dean had climbed into the bed he had to share with his brother but he didn't sleep all night. He kept his eyes open so that if anything came out of the shadows he would be ready.
Sam's eyes snapped back into focus and he drew in a quick breath. Dean was standing over him, gripping his shoulder tightly. For an instant eight year old Dean's face flashed in front of the man Sam was staring at and Sam smiled.
"You okay, what did he do to you?" Dean had apprehension in his voice and Sam didn't know how to explain the little trip down memory lane he had been forced to take.
"Nothing, nothing" Sam said standing up and brushing his clothes off.
"Are you sure?" Dean asked and Sam nodded combing the hair from his eyes,
"Yeah, I'm fine" he insisted but the worry didn't leave Dean's eyes and his eyes didn't leave his brother's face.
"Ah ha!" Collins was standing triumphantly by the open door and Dean finally tore his eyes from Sam.
"How did you-" Dean was dumbfounded and Collins smirked,
"I turned the knob" he said and Dean shook his head,
"No, I tried that, I'm not an idiot." Collins shrugged and eagerly stepped out of the room,
"It worked for me." As soon as Collins stepped over the threshold with the baby the couch slid across the room again and knocked Sam over, and pinned Dean up against the wall.
"Dean!" Sam cried out jumping to his feet and running over to his pinned brother. He tried to move the couch but it wouldn't budge. Dean's eyes got wide as they focused on something just behind Sam's head.
"Sam, get out of here" Dean said sternly motioning towards the open door. Sam knitted his brow and shook his head,
"What? Are you crazy?" Dean frowned,
"Sam, get out of here NOW!" He was scared now and it made Sam nervous.
"I'm not leaving you here." Sam insisted whipping his head around his face was almost pierced by five hovering syringes, he ducked them and they smashed against the wall next to Dean's head. The intense fear in Dean's eyes didn't evaporate,
"Sam, get out of here right now or I'll kick your ass!" The threat was obviously empty, but something in Dean's voice made Sam back up. He was still shaking his head as he backed up the three feet over the entrance once out of the room he spread his arms wide,
"Are you happy now?" Sam asked but Dean didn't answer as a shimmering figure stepped out from behind the door and slammed it in Sam's face with a short laugh. Collins rounded the corner back to the room, rolling his eyes,
"Hey, are you guys coming or what?" He asked, seeing Sam frantically pulling on the doorknob to the closed door as muffled screaming came from inside Sam didn't answer, instead he screamed,
"DEAN!"