Sam slept in late as usual. He couldn't understand how he could sleep in til 10 in the morning and still be utterly exhausted. It was down right confusing. Still, he got up and went to the bathroom. His empty reflection stare back in mirror. Green eyes gloomed as if they were dead and in a way they were. Sam sighed to himself and emptied his bulging bladder. That right there was probably the best thing he has felt in a while. Sweet, sweet release. He hopped into the shower for only a minute. Just a quick rinse so he didn't stink was all the effort he could muster. Sam walked over to the bag on the table with the burger his family had gotten him last night. It was probably crusty on the outside and soggy on the inside. He shrugged and unpacked the small meal. It didn't taste terrible but the dryness got a little overwhelming. What and eventful breakfast.

All of a sudden Dean burst in the door. Sam raised his eyebrow having a quick moment of déjà vu. His big brother came in like he had yesterday but this time the anger was crystal clear. His breath was so hot Sam could nearly see the steam coming out in huffs. Scared for his safety Sam subconscious backed farther into the table.

" I'm leaving, I'm going to a friends house he has work for me. I can't believe I just fucking got laid off, I'm the best mechanic they have! Shit and I gave dad the last of the money so he could go shopping! Huh, I gotta go!" Dean said storming out not waiting for a response. The door slammed and the eerie silence returned. Sam sat there in the same position for a good couple of minutes not really knowing what to do. He was all alone again, so what was he supposed to do? Sleep, eat? He couldn't go to school since it was parent teach conferences. Something he could never get his dad to go to anyway. He spaced off for a while, calming his mind and body. Eventually even that got bored and he looked around the room.

Deciding his best course of action, Sam got up and walked over to the remote. In the process he hit his cut finger and let out a hiss.

It was even a little funny to him, how he could be kicked in the ribs and not make a sound but a little cut makes him grunt and hiss.

He shook is floppy hair flopped down to watch the newest drama film. Despite how traumatizing it was for a dude, it kept his attention none the less. The old, staticky TV came in surprisingly clear too.

Several hours passed. The movies were getting boring and hunger starting to build again. Opening the mini fridge revealed three cans of beer and two ketchup packets. Of course. There was no food, that's why Dean had said he gave money to their father for shopping. Highly doubting that, Sam couldn't keep in the eye roll that shook his head. His dad was probably using the money on a hooker and/or alcohol instead of food for his children. Sam suddenly remembered their emergency money in the weapons bag. He carefully moved the guns and knives away from the little brown pouch that would hold their money. He opened the zipper hopeful just to be dragged down by the emptiness. There was nothing?! They had made it a rule to always make sure there was money in there. But, there wasn't, not even a dime. How was he supposed to eat now? Dean just left and who knows how long his dad will be out.

Not letting defeat take ahold of him, Sam took a deep breath and sat back down. He could wait for one of them to return, even if it took a day or two. He didn't get that hungry anyway.

He didn't think he would anyway.

By dinner time his stomach growled with great thunder. Despite being used to not eating for a while when his dad left them very little money, it still didn't hurt to have food. He liked food though he didn't get much pleasure like other people did. His classmates complain all day that they're hungry and cold. They didn't understand hungry and cold like he did. He has been starving and freezing throughout his entire childhood. He could stand it. So, that night he went to bed on an empty stomach. Every so often it would growl like a mother lion searching for her cubs, instead it's his stomach searching for food. He fell asleep anyway hoping he'd find his dad hungover in the other bed in the morning. One could only hope for such luck.

Morning light streamed through the windows and passed his eyelids. Squinting from the light he rolled over and let out a moan when he saw the empty bed. His dad hadn't come home. There was nothing Sam could do about it, so he fell back asleep. Though no dreams entertained his sleep, he was thinking. He thought about what he could do in a day all by himself. He could read though even that has to come to an end at some point. He could go to the neighborhood park. Take a walk. Boring things. He decided he has had plenty of time in bed. On this Saturday afternoon, he awoke to hunger. Still hungry after going hours and hours without a single bite. Last think he ate was a small and deformed, day old burger. That did nothing to stop growls and the numb feeling in his abdomen. Sam got up and stretched, still being careful of his ribs that were starting to feel better. Even though they were getting better, they'd just get insulted again sooner or later. Reaching for the phone, Sam dialed Dean's number. It rang, and rang. The digital sounds came to an end and Dean's recorded voice took its place. This is Dean, leave a message.

Bland.

Sam groaned and tried his dad just for kicks.

This is John Winchester, in case of an emergency call my son Dean at 903 449 6765.

Also bland.

Sam took the hint and stopped trying to reach them. His stomach loudly gurgled. A small hint of pain settled to the slightest. A sinking feeling in his gut he wished he could have forgotten a long time ago.

Sam quickly got dressed in his flannel shirt and jeans. Both starting to get a little smaller than he'd prefer. They had a few small holes due to being hand me downs from Dean. Oh yes, the absolute perks of being the youngest. You get the cheap trashy clothes while your sibling get fresh, nice ones. Story of his freaking life. He always got the bad end, always. Couldn't he get a break? Maybe just once? Sam stepped out of the door, a small breeze catching his hair. The brown locks danced in the wind. Despite the wind it was still a hot September day. Summer was ending and Fall would start to come in. The leaves would change and fall in pretty oranges, reds, and yellows. He loved Fall. It was right after a blistering hot Summer, yet right before a freezing cold Winter. It was just right. Sure Spring was between the two seasons too. But it was really wet.

Sam started towards the park. As he walked up the small hills and back down , all the while he kept staring at the ground. He didn't want to look at anyone in case they wanted to talk. He didn't like strangers, they didn't even know him yet they want to know how his day was and how old he is. Some seem innocent, but others just scream child traffickers. Something on the side of his vision caught his eyes. A few pieces of paper flapping in the breeze on the ground. He walked towards them and saw the two dollars staring right at his face. He looked around to see if anyone near him had dropped it, though no one was even on the same sidewalk. He picked it up and kept walking. A small smile edged on his face. Finally something was in his favor. He could get a little something from the store, even it was just a small bag of chips.

But, the smell of a food took his nose by surprise. And just like in cartoons, his nose lead him towards the source. Right to the park, a food truck sat with its colorful signs and shade. He couldn't resist. Sam needed food. After going three meals without a single bite, he was pretty sure his stomach hated him. He walked up to the truck and peered at the menu. He scrunched his face because everything was 5 or 6 dollars. Nothing he could afford. But those were all sandwiches.

" Excuse me, how much for a hotdog?" Sam asked the older man managing the register. He had white hair though most was gone due to balding.

" 2 with tax," he said kindly, cheery. Well, that's all Sam had for money. He could get a hotdog and call it good. He wouldn't be able to get much more at a store anyway, so he nodded at the man.

" I'll take one," Sam said eager to have some food. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled making him nauseous. It was weird to be hungry enough to feel sick, but sick enough to not want to eat. He licked his lips in anticipation, he could smell the sweet onions and greasy meat. Though he usually didn't like eating greasy foods, he felt like he was hungry enough to forget about that. Who cares if he has a heart attack in 40 years old?He's hungry.

After a couple minutes the man handed Sam a hotdog, so beautiful. It smelled like heaven, a little piece that floated down on a cloud. He walked over to an empty metal bench. He smiled at the hot dog ready to eat it, but a whine caught his attention before he could take the bite. Sam looked behind him, nothing. In front, nothing. He heard it again and looked under the bench to see a box. It was wet, soggy like. He got off the bench and kneeled on the hard ground. Rocks pricked his skin but he ignored it for the moment. Peering inside the box, he saw a dog. It was so skinny, shaking with fear. It looked at him with hesitation, then to the hotdog in his hand. Another whine left his clattering mouth. In the darkness of the box, Sam couldn't tell if the dog was brown or he was just dirty, either way he looked to pitiful. It kept eyeing the hotdog, it's nose lifting in the air because of the scent. With a huff of air Sam look at the small dog. He looked like he hasn't eaten in forever, and he himself hasn't eaten in two days. He felt so bad for the poor thing. Sam just wants to scoop it up and take him home. He knew there would be punishment, it wasn't worth the long talk about diseases and random crap his dad came up with to seem like he was smarter. As stupid as it was, Sam knew he should just listen and be a good kid. He couldn't give the dog a home, but he could give him food. Sam looked again at the hotdog, so beautiful, then at the dog, who obviously needed it more.

" Ugh, alright," Sam moaned and slowly reached the hotdog towards the little puppy. The dog was skeptical, but his great hunger won and he took the food. Sam smiled a little. Sat by the box, breathing in the fresh air. The sound of children playing by the jungle gym rang in his ears, the scent of the flower bed and food lifted his nose, the breezes on his face made him close his eyes. His face warmed by the sun, a nice calm sensation spread across his frame. He was so in tune with the world that he jumped when a soft thing touched his hand. He quickly retracted his hand and looked towards the ground. He instantly relaxed when he saw the little dog cowering.

" Oh sorry," He said knowing it wouldn't understand. He slowly put his hand back down and let the dog sniff it, probably searching for more food. Food he didn't even have for himself, let alone the poor dog. Sam lifted a finger and stroked the dog on the head. His fur was so soft even though he was obviously living outdoors. His little eyes lit a little from the friendly touch wanting more. Sam smiled at the little baby, so cute and happy now. A full belly for the first time in a while and a friendly person to stroke his head gently. Sam didn't know how long he sat there, maybe an hour. He didn't want to leave the dog, but he had to. In another attempt to search for food, Sam got up and started to walk around the cobble stone paths of the park. It was a large area. Plenty of benches to sit at, places for kids to play, flowers to grow, and places to eat. He looked on the ground hopeful to find more money, even bits of change he could maybe add together. He walked around for close to an hour unable to find anything. The day was progressing and so was his hunger. Two days doesn't seem like a lot, but when you can smell food and crave it, it was. It was so long. Sam started back towards the hotel. It was creeping up to dinner time and he still hadn't found food. Well technically he had but he had to be honest, the dog deserves more than he does. With a sigh of defeat, Sam opened the door to their room and sank into the bed.

Overall the day wasn't too eventful, still boring. He slept in till noon, took a long walk to the park, got food, found a poor dog, fed the food to the dog, made friends with the dog, searched for more precious money on the ground with no such luck, enjoyed the weather, listened to kids, got bored, and walked home. It was already 4. Maybe he should try to call Dean again. Dean would care enough to get him food, might even feel stupid for believing John would get groceries.

Sam dialed his number, and after three rings someone answered.

" Hello," A voice said quickly.

" Dean?"

" Yeah, what do you want Sammy," Dean giggles," I'm a little busy,"

And Sam knew exactly why. Gross.

" Well dad di-"

" Sam, I don't need to hear about your trouble with dad. Now leave me alone, you're turning me off bitch," and Dean hung up. Sam sat there stunned. Dean hadn't even let him finish. He wasn't fighting his dad, his dad didn't show up with food or money and he has been stuck home for two days with no food. What a good brother he is. Didn't even listen for more than two seconds!

Defeat settled in even farther. There was no way to get food. He had no money, he had spent his personal stash on the last book. Their emergency money was gone. Dean probably took that when he realized he gave all of his to his greedy dad.

And somewhere in that mess he was left to fend for himself. What else is new?