Hello all! Welcome to another chapter that was never supposed to be written. Sometimes ideas just hit me with a 50 pound bag of potatoes and keep hitting me until I write them. It can be very annoying. Nonetheless, here you go. I'm not even exactly sure what this is, but it exists, so. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Oh don't I wish I owned them.

Takes place pre-series.

Warning: Crying?

Ages:

Dean: 18

Sam: 14

Carter: 5

Dean bustled around the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and some cereal. He tossed the empty milk jug and strode over to Carter's sleeping figure. He knelt one knee on the bed and bent over her. She laid on her stomach, face pressed to the pillow and hair sprayed over her eyelashes. Her arms sprawled in all directions and her legs tucked close to her chest. Dean wouldn't have guessed it was comfy, but she was still sound asleep.

"Hey, Carter, wake up. It's time for school," Dean said softly and nudged her shoulder. She emitted a soft moan and pulled her arms back into her body. She pushed her hair out of her face.

"Daddy?" She asked, mistaking and hoping it was her dad who had woken her up. Dean recoiled slightly. Carter sat up and pushed the rest of her bedraggled hair out of her face. She blinked around the room and didn't see her dad. She gazed confusingly up at her brother. "Where's daddy?"

Dean pushed off the bed, ignoring her question, "Your breakfast is ready. We don't have any milk, though. I'll pick some up later." Carter crawled out from under the covers and plopped down onto the floor. She clambered onto a kitchen chair and watched as Dean poured some water from an old bottle into a slightly dirty cup. She rubbed at her eyes and reached for her cereal bowl.

"Is daddy coming home today?" She asked softly as she gripped the cold spoon in her hands. Their father had been on a hunt for two weeks now and they were running low on funds. Not only that but Carter had begun growing a deep fond for her absent father. The new bond could be chalked up to the fact that she had learned about monsters only a month before.

"Probably not." Dean handed her the cup and grabbed his own bowl of cereal. "Eat your breakfast."

"Can you call him?" Carter asked, not taking a bite of her food.

"He's busy, Carter," Dean snapped, getting annoyed at all her questions. He wanted his dad to be there, too, but John's job always came before his kids. Dean had learned that fast.

Carter looked down sadly and took a bite of her cereal. The dry flakes slid down roughly and tears welled in her eyes. She was terrified for the man. She wished her daddy didn't have to do dangerous things that could get him killed. She wanted her daddy here, with her. Didn't she deserve that?

The rest of breakfast went by quietly. Every now and then, Carter would sniffle her tears away and Dean would give her a side glance. After her bowl was cleared, Dean pulled out her clothes for the day and told her to get dressed fast. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair with a long face. They walked out to the Impala, with Carter in the back seat and Dean in the driver's seat. As the wind whipped through the open windows, Carter let her tears drop from her eyes. She gripped her backpack to her chest and watched the houses zoom by.

After five minutes, the giant elementary school came into view. Dean parked the Impala in the parking lot near the kindergarten rooms. He climbed out, Carter following slowly behind. Before she could drop to the ground, she dangled her feet over the edge of the seat and put on her backpack. Her eyes matched quite brilliantly with her pout.

"Hey," Dean stopped her and took her face in his hands. "What's wrong?" He wiped away one of her trying tears.

"I don't want to go to school," she said tearfully and looked down, new tears falling.

"And why's that?"

Carter looked up at Dean, her eyes wide. "Because I miss daddy!" A sob finally broke through and she pushed her fists to her eyes. Dean sighed and lightly pounded his fist on the roof in anger. His jaw clenched subconsciously. He wasn't mad at Carter, he was mad at his dad. He knew his job was important and that he was saving real lives, but he was crushing his own kids in the process. He wished there was some middle ground where his dad could still hunt and spend time with his kids, but that was near impossible. Unfortunately, most hunters couldn't have a good home life, or most of them didn't even get a chance. Where the Winchesters stood on that scale was hard to determine. At least they had a dad, no matter how distant he was. Dean just couldn't stand to see his sister being so crushed.

The school bell rang, calling all kids to their rooms. Dean fixed himself and grabbed Carter from her sitting position. He plopped her on the ground and shut the door, grabbed her hand and led her to her classroom. Carter kept crying, but she went along with her big brother. She went willingly where he led her but stopped short of the door to the room. The teacher, Ms. Maron, always smiled as she greeted every kid that came in the door. No one's parents led them to the door, but yet Carter still needed her dad to be there.

"No!" Carter called and gripped Dean's leg tightly, she buried her head in his jeans and Ms. Maron looked over in concern.

"Stop it, Carter," Dean hissed.

Ms. Maron walked over, "Is everything okay?" Carter looked away, wiping some tears on Dean's pants in the process. Ms. Maron looked over at Dean.

"She just misses our dad, that's all."

Ms. Maron looked at Dean with concern. "When will she see him again? Tonight?" Ms. Maron remembered Carter's dad quite well. She had been in the office when the man signed Carter up. He was tall with dark hair and a poisonous, worn out look. He had a couple cuts over his face, which she had chalked up to some kind of accident. Maybe a branch falling or a small tumble down stairs. Carter was there, too. She seemed tiny as she stood next to her dad, hands gripping his one. Ms. Maron remembered exactly what they were wearing. Mr. Winchester wore a dark jacket with faded, ripped jeans. They didn't look like the kind you bought ripped, plus they had odd dark stains. Carter wore blue leggings with a large AC/DC shirt over top. The shirt was so big that it extended to her knees and the sleeves went to her elbows. Looking back, Ms. Maron realized it probably was a hand-me-down from her brother.

"Not for a couple more days, actually."

Ms. Maron's thoughts started to spin. A couple more days? How long has he been gone? And all at once, everything started to make sense. The reason Dean (who should be in high school right now) brought his sister to school every day. The reason why Carter was always asking when lunch was. The reason her clothes always looked well worn and dirty. The reason her and her brother were so close. The reason being her father was never there. Ms. Maron pushed all these thoughts aside quickly. She could deal with it all later. Right now, she needed to deal with the crying kid on her hands.

She knelt down to the crying kindergartener. Carter was still facing away from her teacher and still had her arms wrapped tightly around Dean's leg. And the tears still flowed freely. "Carter, can you look at me, please?" She readjusted her grip on Dean and turned to face her teacher. Ms. Maron smiled softly. "You wanna come to class with me?" Carter shook her head no. Ms. Maron bit her lip. "Okay, how about this: since you miss your dad so much, why don't you draw a picture for him for when he gets back? He'll be very happy to have it."

Carter's tears stopped flowing and she looked at her teacher. "Can I- can I use markers?" She asks timidly.

Ms. Maron smiled wide, "Of course! You can use anything you want! So what do you say, will you come to class with me?" After a pause, Carter nodded her head. She released her grip on Dean's leg as Ms. Maron stood up. She threw a goodbye at her brother and followed her teacher into the classroom.

Seven days later, questions about when her dad would be coming home had ceased. Carter was once again used to the fact that he would be gone awhile. The picture she made for her dad days ago was within reach wherever she went; she wanted to make sure she could give it to her dad the moment he came back.

And it was that day after school when she finally could. The bell rang, dismissing everyone from their classes. Carter grabbed her stuff and trudged out to meet Dean. (He had made it a point to pick her up after school every single day.) All of the children ran to their parents or walked slowly to continue talking to their friends. Carter stood at the back, eyes glazing over everyone, trying to find her big brother. It was only when parents started to leave that a familiar face appeared behind everyone. A smile split across her face and she ran to the man.

"Daddy!" She called and jumped into his arms. She looked up and saw him smiling back. He had old cuts over his face along with a bruised eye and a gash across his forehead. Carter ignored them as she always did.

"Hey, kiddo," he said at last, when he released his youngest. She immediately tore off her backpack and started searching for her picture. She pulled it out and ignored the torn corners and wrinkled look; it still looked perfect to her. She smiled wide as she handed it to her father.

"I made this for you!"

He knelt down to his daughter and gripped the picture in his hands. It was a drawing of a stick figure family. A tall stick man with two shorter stick men stood around a small stick girl. Carter pointed to the tall man. "That's you, daddy. And that's Dean and Sam," she pointed to the shorter men, and lastly to the little girl, "and that's me!"

"It's very beautiful, Carter," John said and gave his daughter a hug. "Now, let's go back to the motel, okay?" He stood up and gripped her hand. They walked off smiling, back to their temporary home. And for a moment, everything was perfect.

And if you never cherish those moments, what would you be left with?

Well, there ya go. Did it satisfy your weekly Carter needs?

Yeah, I'll do better next week. Cya!