Author's note: Hey y'all! It's officially time for a new story.

This is story has certain characters borrowed from Ridley's and Tidia's brotherhood au.

Sam: 10, Dean: 14, Caleb and Joshua is also 22.

Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural or any of its characters. Only the idea and plot of this story are of my own.

Spn

Sam Winchester was hungry.

It wasn't this 'I'm hungry now I need to eat' hunger. It was more of an 'uncomfortable' hungry and ' constant pains in my stomach' hungry.

Sure, he was used to going a while with little food, what with his father going away on hunts and leaving him and Dean with a little amount of money. They'd buy what they could at the grocery store and economize and plan each meal.

But it never got this bad. This time, however, Sam was alone.

Dean, since turning fourteen, had started going more on hunts with one of the members of his family. So, when Bobby called John in the middle of the father's hunt two weeks ago, asking for help on his own hunt, John sent Dean to help his uncle.

Then, not two days later, John got an important lead on his hunt and he bustled faster than a tornado to gather his weapons and rush out the door, tossing Sam some money along the way and telling him he'll be back in two days.

The only problem was that John had given his son $10 instead of the usual $50 or $100, not even noticing his mistake. Neither did Sam, until he picked it up to go get some groceries a day after his dad left.

He was only able to buy a loaf of bread, a tiny piece of cheese and several water bottles since the water from the sink looked like someone would get malaria if they drank from it.

That was about twelve days ago, the loaf of bread was reduced to just one sliver of a slice, the cheese to nothing and he only had 1 water bottle. The only problem was that he would eat one tiny slice of bread and drink about two water bottles per day, which allowed the hunger to build up.

He thought of calling one of his uncles for help, but the one time he dialed Mac, Jim, and Bobby, the lines just rang out.

As Sam sat half slumped on the floor, stomach aching, dizzy, cold, and so so weak, the child cried and prayed that someone would find him before he wasted away.

O

Mackland Ames was in heaven.

He had finished some important stuff for the brotherhood days ago and was relaxing in his condo in New York, relishing the silence and calm that was never ever there.

His condo usually inhabited people around the clock, mostly a child, a teen and two young adults by the names of Sammy, Dean, Caleb, and Joshua, and the four of them were quite the pack. Pranks, teasing, movie nights and boys being boys tended to make the atmosphere noisy, crowded, and quite amusing. John often left Sam and Dean with the doctor in New York for months during the school year because he knew how tough moving schools was for his boys, especially Sammy.

But now, Caleb and Joshua were away helping Jim on a hunt in Blue Earth, and John had taken Sam and Dean to a town next to Blue Earth on a hunt, so Mack had the condo all to himself.

Just as he was about to finally head to bed, he decided to turn on his personal phone on after having broken it a couple of days ago and just gotten it back from the repair shop, and immediately groaned at the sheer amount of calls and messages that pinged up.

Scrolling through them, his eyes caught a number he memorized by heart. It was the number of the cell John left with Sam and Dean every time he goes on a hunt. He was about to press dial when his phone rang.

"Hey, Jim."

"Mackland, have you heard from Sammy?" came Jim's panicked voice.

Immediately feeling his worry rise, Mac stood up, too nervous to sit down "He called me a couple of days ago, but my phone was broken. I just saw it and was about to call him, why what's wrong?"

Mac heard Jim sigh "John got hurt, broke his arm and collarbone on the hunt. He told me that he left Sammy alone at the house, but I couldn't get anything else out of him. Turns out, Sammy called me too, but the call didn't register for some reason. I've been trying to call him for a couple of hours but he's not answering."

Mac frowned "But Sam always answers the phone. Especially now that school's out and John probably ordered the kid not to leave whatever dump he rented." He said, unable to leave the disdain of John Winchester's bad choices of living, especially ones he leaves his children in.

"Exactly."

"Alright look, text me the address of the house, I'll go pick up the tiger. Hopefully he's just sleeping or decided to take a stroll out of the house." Mac said to reassure himself more than Jim.

"Thank you, Mac. I'd go, but I need to stay with John."

"I'll call you when I get him."

"Alright, bring him home Mac." Jim said then hung up the phone.

Mac immediately dialed the youngest Winchester's phone number, but when he didn't answer Mac sprinted towards his room, changed and packed and flew towards the airport.

Mac couldn't feel the worry gnawing in his stomach during the wait at the airport, the entire flight, then checkout. Then he found his car parked in its usual Minnesota designated place and he drove like a madman to get to where he would hopefully put his mind to rest and find his Sammy.

Parking the car haphazardly, Mac ran to the front door and banged on it.

"Sammy? Tiger, it's Mac. Open up buddy." He yelled but got no response.

He banged and yelled for several more minutes but when he got no answer, he pulled out his lock pick set. Picking the lock, he entered the room stepping over the salt line and devil's trap, his gun in his hand.

"Sammy?" he called out.

"Uncle Mac?" came a tiny, barely audible voice.

Mac whirled around and his eyes immediately zeroed in on a huddled figure on the floor. All the blood drained from his face when he took in the child's appearance.

Sam was pale, huddled on the floor in an over large sweater despite the sheer amount of heat in the room from the hot Minnesota air and lack of air conditioning, and was even shivering. But what Mac noticed the most was how thin and fragile the kid looked.

Sam had always been thin and small. But now it seemed unhealthy and heartbreaking.

Quickly kneeling down next to the child, he quickly palmed the child's forehead and cheeks, wincing when he found it cold and clammy.

"Uncle Mac?" Sam asked, voice small and he sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

Drawing the small boy in his arms and onto his lap, Mac nearly cried at the feel of Sam's bones jutting out a bit more than usual and the thinness of his body. "Hey buddy, I've got you now Sammy." He soothed as he rocked Sam back and forth while the child buried his face in his surrogate father's chest and sobbed, clutching weakly at his shirt because he didn't have any energy.

Cradling Sam close to his body while whispering reassurances as the boy cried, Mac vowed to get to the bottom of how the baby of their family got into so bad a shape.

Spn