Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and Warner Bros.

A/N - Welcome to my newest endeavour! This is a strange one because a few months ago, I'd never even watched one episode of Supernatural. However one global pandemic later/lockdown later, and I'm knees deep into Season 13 of Supernatural and working my way quickly through the remaining episodes. The show has helped keep me sane at a time when I really needed some sanity, and if this little story brings you even half the amount of enjoyment the show has brought me, I'll be one very happy author.

In terms of the story, I won't say too much now, however I do want to make a few things clear. This is set when the Winchesters are teenagers, but I also wanted to include Adam, so this is definitely AU. John is a little more unhinged and even more absent in this story than in canon, and although the boys have heard of Bobby, they've never actually met him. Having said all that, I do want to keep the characters in-character wherever possible, and as I'm new to the show, and British born-and-bred, I'm relying on you lovely readers to make sure I'm not failing in that regard. I'm strangely nervous, but I hope you like it at least. On with the story!

A Home For Wayward Sons

Chapter One

Sixteen-year-old Dean Winchester had one job. One purpose in life. One reason for getting up in the mornings, even the really, really crappy mornings. It was more important than Led Zeppelin, or his dad's Impala, or even that sweet looking chick with the big rack who worked at the local convenience store.

It was even more important than hunting.

Look after Sam and Adam.

It was a job he took very seriously, more seriously than just about anything, but there was no doubt about it; some days were easier than others…

"Come on, Sammy, just eat the damn cereal," Dean sighed, rubbing tiredly at his face.

The three of them were starting the day slowly in their latest motel room, sat around a grimy table in near silence as they ate breakfast. It had already been a battle to get 5 year old Adam up and dressed and Dean was tired before the day had even really begun. As usual, Sam had his head buried in a book an inch thicker than his head, but he did at least pause his reading long enough to eat another small handful of dry cereal. They didn't have any milk left, so the kid was making do.

"You want some?" Sam offered as he looked up at Dean, finally tearing his eyes away from the page he was reading. Dean smiled to himself. Sam was holding the knock-off Lucky charms box protectively under his arm, but Dean knew he would give some to his brother if he asked. He was a good kid like that. Not like most twelve years-olds, that was for sure.

"Not hungry," Dean replied stoically, pointedly ignoring his grumbling stomach. He hoped Sam and Adam couldn't hear the growls. He was hungry but they only had one cereal box left and there was barely enough cereal left in it to feed one of them, let alone three. At twelve and five years old respectively, Sammy and Adam were growing kids and they needed the food more than Dean did.

Look after Sam and Adam.

Dean was used to giving food up for his brothers; he'd been caring for them both for so long he barely knew how to do anything else. Hell, he'd been raising Adam practically by himself from the moment dad had dumped their half-brother on Dean with barely an explanation three years ago, when the kid had been barely two years old and still grieving for his own momma.

Luckily Dean, despite being thirteen himself at the time, had mostly known how to take care of a toddler, having done much the same for Sam only ten years ago.

He'd been looking after Sam even longer after all; from the moment he'd had to carry Sam's tiny ass out of their burning home when Sam had been 6 months old, his big brother responsibilities had been upgraded to surrogate dad and protector.

He'd had occasional help from various baby-sitters, of course, when Sam had been really young, and even more occasional help from their dad when he'd deigned to check in on them, but most of the child-rearing had fallen to Dean, so he'd been forced to learn quickly.

It had been hard, but they'd managed. Dean had managed. He didn't complain. He didn't wish for a better life. He managed. He'd do anything for his brothers.

Look after Sam and Adam…

"How about you, Adam, huh? You finish your toast yet, little man?" Dean asked cheerfully. The last of the toast, he thought to himself as his stomach grumbled again, although that was hardly Adam's fault.

Oblivious to Dean's inner turmoil, the five year old shoved the last of his toast into his mouth and munched on it happily. At least it hadn't gone to waste, Dean conceded to himself with a sigh.

"All gone, Dean," Adam grinned widely, showing Dean the last of the mush in his mouth.

"Gross, kid," Dean replied with a grin of his own. "Go get your bag then. Time for school."

Dean began to clear up the breakfast table before turning his attention to the middle Winchester.

"You too, Sam," Dean said, deliberately ruffling Sam's hair as he passed because he knew the kid hated it. He pointed to the cereal box that Sam was still hugging. "You can eat the rest of that on the way. We're going to be late."

It was their first day of a new school, and Dean was nervous, even though he was careful not to show it. This would be his seventh school in the same academic year, so being the new kid wasn't exactly new to him, but it didn't mean he liked it. He scowled as he pulled down the sleeve of his shirt before donning his worn leather jacket – a hand-me down from their dad - making sure all the bruises on his arms were well and truly hidden. He couldn't risk some nosy teacher taking too much interest; it was hard enough to explain why his dad wasn't around a whole lot, he could hardly tell anyone that the bruises were from being knocked around by a werewolf, not his dad…

At sixteen, John Winchester had finally decided Dean was ready for the big leagues. He'd been going on hunts for as long as he could remember, but now he was taking on more of an active role, something he had wanted to do for a while. He knew how much bad shit there was out there – hell, a yellow-eyed demon had killed his mother – so if he could make some of that bad shit go away for someone else…well, there were worse things he could be doing with his life. In hunting, he had a purpose, and he had been glad when his dad had started to trust him more. He didn't go all the time, mostly because he was still at school, and they couldn't really leave Sam in charge of Adam for too long, but he did like those times when he could go with his dad, as scary as they could be.

He wasn't just observing anymore. He was leading. He was killing. He was hunting.

And he liked it, despite the fact that sometimes he was hunted too.

Dean rubbed his arm absently, where the bruises on his skin had yet to fade. The last hunt had been rough, and despite his desire to get back out there again, Dean had to admit, he was glad of the longer break his dad had promised him this time. Anyway, Sam and Adam needed him. Their dad had caught the scent of a big motherfucker out in Oregon and John knew it would be weeks before he was able to gank the son of a bitch, and that there would be fallout when he did, so he'd left the boys in a crappy motel on the outskirts of Sioux Falls, South Dakota to keep them as far away as possible while it all went down.

Dean didn't know why he'd chosen this particular dump of a town to leave them in, but John Winchester never especially liked explaining his reasoning when it came to things like this. Dean knew Bobby Singer, dad's old hunter friend, lived close – though the boys had never met the man – but Dean knew without asking that he was only to contact Bobby in an emergency, and that having no food was not an emergency, not when Dean could fix it himself.

And he would. Tonight, after school. Or tomorrow. Even though he felt tired and worn and hungry. Sam and Adam came first. Sam and Adam would always come first.

Speaking of which…

"Come on, Sam, you slow poke!" Dean called out, grabbing his own bag. Sam was in the bathroom, probably obsessively primping his hair. Dean shared a knowing smile with Adam since Sam was always the last to be ready. While they waited, Dean gave Adam a final once over to check he was presentable and had everything he needed. School was new to Adam and Dean knew he needed that little bit of reassurance.

"Slow poke!" Adam parroted, sticking out his tongue at Sam as he finally exited the bathroom. Adam was bouncing a little bit, excited to get to school. Sam had rubbed off on him, and despite how annoying it was going to be to have two nerds in the family, Dean was glad about it; it made the normal routine much easier when the kids actually wanted to go to school, unlike Dean, who would rather be anywhere else.

In fact, if he had his way, he would have dropped out of school already, got a job or something in between hunts so he could support Sammy and Adam better than just hustling pool in the local bars at night. School was a waste of time that could be better spent earning cash or hunting demons.

But his dad had been clear. Finish school, or else. Dean had too much experience of what 'or else' meant to even think about disobeying the man. Dean loved his dad, but he was scared of him sometimes too. Ever since their mom had died when Dean had been four years old, their dad had been a little…unhinged. Sometimes, he seemed like the man he had been back then – making sure they were clothed, fed, happy – but most of the time, he was focused on only one thing. Catching the demon that had killed Mary Winchester. Everything else – including his sons – came a distant second.

Which meant Dean had to change his priorities to put Sam and Adam first.

So even though he hated it already, here he was dragging himself and Sammy and Adam to another crappy school in Crapsville, South Dakota…

"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked, finally ready to go. The kid was too perceptive for his own good. He'd make a hell of a hunter one day. He already researched better than anyone Dean knew, although Dean knew Sam still wasn't crazy about the life…

"Fine, kiddo," Dean replied, clearing his throat. "Let's get going. Probably shouldn't be late on our first day, huh? Especially since we have to drop Adam off first."

Granted, their dad didn't really give a shit about how well they did at school – he only sent them so that they wouldn't draw unwanted attention to themselves - but at least he'd actually registered them this time before he'd left to go on his latest hunt, unlike at the last school where he'd left it up to Dean to sort everything out. Which was difficult at sixteen, when he wasn't actually the freaking parent...

Dean shook his head, picked up Sam's backpack and shoved it into his brother's arms, ushering him and Adam out the door. They had a long walk ahead of them. Dean had barely scraped together enough money to feed the three of them the last couple of days, so no way could they afford the bus, and since their Dad had taken off in the Impala to hunt the big game, they had no wheels either.

They hadn't heard from him since he'd left, not even to check that they were okay but Dean tried not to be mad, since he knew his dad was saving lives. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. He just wished that the man had spared a thought or two for his sons before driving off into the night, because beyond paying for the motel in advance for the next two weeks, he'd neglected to leave them any money for food or school stuff.

Dean bit back his worry and bitterness and stress and tried to keep his game-face on. Their dad would be fine. He was a tough bastard, and he always came back for them eventually; Dean had learned long ago that there was no sense in worrying over things he couldn't change.

In the meantime, he had Sammy and Adam to look after. That was his job and it was one he took seriously. Dean knew he was screwed in the head himself and that he was pretty much a lost cause – that ship had sailed the moment he had carried his brother out of their burning house at four years old – but he'd be damned if Sam and Adam turned out the same way. They were going to have a normal life if it killed him.

And that meant school.

Dean studied the older of his two brothers as they walked together down the street, with Sam chatting to Adam about what he was going to be doing this year in class.

Dean would be graduating next year, if all went well, but he was worried about Sammy. His kid brother was smart, much smarter than Dean, but he was a little lacking in the social department, no matter how hard Dean had tried to teach the kid. It wasn't that Sam wasn't likable, or easy to get along with, it was more that he didn't really take his head of a book long enough to really notice anyone else. Unless he was with Dean or Adam, and then all he seemed to do was talk…

Sam munched on the rest of the cereal as they walked, passing some to Adam every now and again, and now chattering on about the pros of their store-brand version of cereal as opposed to the real thing. Dean could feel a headache building already…

"Sam, give it a rest, will ya," Dean said gruffly, letting some of his stress bleed out momentarily. "Just eat the damn things and stop yapping about it."

It was his hunger talking, but Dean regretted snapping immediately when he caught the hurt look on Sam's face and the scared look on Adam's. Adam was a shy, sensitive kid, all too easily spooked when tensions rose. It made Dean wonder what life had been like for Adam with Adam's mom, before she had died. Not that it was something he could ask their dad. It was another topic that was completely off-limits for John Winchester…

Still, Dean knew he had to temper his growing stress for the sake of his brothers. He knew Sam had probably picked up on his mood and that the kid was just trying to make it better, but all it did was remind him that he couldn't take care of his brothers. They lived in a crappy motel, had no money, wore clothes that should have been replaced three years ago, and they were routinely deserted by their dad for weeks at a time while he travelled across the nation trying to kill the demon that killed their mom. Dean wished he could be a better brother, but he just couldn't seem to protect Sam and Adam like he wanted to.

"Sorry Sam," Dean muttered. He squeezed Adam's hand reassuringly and was rewarded with a smile.

"S'alright," Sam said, with a small smile of his own that was full of forgiveness. Then he held out the almost empty cereal box. "You want the rest? I'm full."

No way the kid was full – Sam was at the age where everything he was eating when straight to his damn legs – but Dean took it for what it was; a peace-offering.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said, taking the last handful of cereal out of the box and shoving as much into his mouth as possible, before throwing the empty box into a nearby dumpster as they walked past.

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's Sam."

"Sammy!" parrotted Adam, grinning widely.

"Shut it, Addy," Sam told him, mock-angry but ruffling Adam's hair so that he knew he was only joking.

"Never!" Adam squealing, hiding behind Dean when Sam made to ruffle his hair again.

"I hate you both," Sam said, though his grin belied his words.

Dean smirked. "Bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brothers, but smiled back. "Jerk."

"Sammy!" Adam laughed.

Dean's smiled widen and he ruffled Sam's hair again, much to the twelve-year old's dismay, although Dean easily avoided the punch his brother playfully shot back at him in retaliation. Dean laughed, and grabbed Adam's hand again, ruffling the littlest Winchester's hair for good measure as well, before smoothing it out. They had to get a move on or they'd be late.

Maybe this town wouldn't be so bad after all; he could already tell that there were plenty of bars to hustle at tonight and Dean was confident in his ability to win plenty of cash, enough to get them plenty of food and still have enough left over to take the bus tomorrow. And at least Sam and Adam were smiling again. It would be alright, just like it always was.

He almost believed that for a second too, right up until the point a car came speeding around the corner, swerving all over the road, right through a red light, and heading straight for Dean and his little brothers.

Dean did the only thing he could do.

Look after Sammy and Adam…

Dean let go of Adam's hand and pushed his brothers as hard as he could away from him, working purely on instinct and praying like hell that they were out of the way. He heard a yell, a screech of tires, his own body hitting metal, and then…

Nothing.

A/N - So there you have it. I hope you liked it; any feedback would be greatly appreciated! I have more written but the story is still incomplete, so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted, but for now, and until next time, thanks for reading!