Author's note: Dear Readers, I'm very busy but I really wanted to update ;) So this is just a short chapter, hopefuly with enough action to keep it interesting. I thank you all again for your very kind reviews and interest in my story.

Disclaimer: Could someone please tell me if it's necessary to write a disclaimer every time? XD Thanks! ( I don't own Sam, Dean, or any charectors you recognize! )

Eric Gaston sat in the cafeteria next to a friendly Sam, and decided that he may like the younger Winchester brother almost as much as his brother. He wasn't sure why Sam and Dean had decided to take on the local charity case but he was happy they had.

" So where did you guys live before?" Eric wondered, absent-mindedly nibbling on a small piece of apple.

" Here and there, we travel a lot because of my Dad's work. What do your parents do?" Sam replied evenly, seemingly determined to steer the conversation away from his family.

Eric picked his words carefully, pausing before he spoke.

" My mom's a therapist." he began, "My dad sells cars in the city and I hardly ever see him. When I do he spends the entire time telling me the merits of joining the football team and how a scrawny kid like me should start working out more if I want a chance with the ladies. I love my parents but I feel like they don't know me at all. My mom is always trying to fix me but she doesn't even know what's broken." Eric stopped himself from continuing. His ears turned pink as he realized he had said too much. He shifted his eyes nervously back to Sam expecting a "wtf?" look. Instead Sam seemed to be considering what he said, with a mix of sympathy and concentration in his eyes. Finally he spoke, the words coming out slowly.

" I understand where you're coming from. Really, I do. I'm sorry about your dad, I truly understand parents expecting something from you, when you're not that person. Maybe your dad really wants you to be good at football, in fact he's been training you for the major league all his life. But it turns out you're just really into English instead. It's not that one is better than the other, although football may seem more heroic. They're just different lives." Sam finished and then clamped up.

Eric had this strange feeling they weren't talking about football anymore, but he couldn't think of one thing that Sam could be bad at to disappoint his father, so he didn't say anything.

Sam thought about the truth in the words he had spoken and how they implied to him. He decided he would be going to that spelling bee this weekend hunt, or no hunt.

Suddenly he felt prickles on the back of his neck and he knew someone was watching them. The cafeteria had cleared and the majority of the student body had ventured outside to the sports fields. Sam pretended to drop a sheet of paper on the ground, twisting around and bending to pick it up, at the same time peering through his bangs. Two boys stood out from the rest, Michael Baker, David Cho and one more beefy guy Sam didn't recognize were lounged on a far table snickering, and looking at them. He anticipated what they were going to do, and faking nonchalance turned back around to continue eating his lunch. No use going into a fight hungry.

Eric was just finishing up on his apple when Sam spoke. Eric thought his manor was strange, as while he was talking to Eric his head kept looking directly forward.

"Eric, I assume you don't know any sort of martial art or self defence?" Sam asked quietly, in an unconcerned tone.

"Um… no. Why?" Eric replied nervously.

"No reason" Sam answered, munching of the crust of a ham sandwich. "Do you think you can do me a favour?"

" Sure, what do you need?" Eric wondered.

Sam Winchester swallowed the last bit of his lunch and took a sip of chocolate milk.

" Eric when I say now, I want you to take the rest of this chocolate milk and throw it directly behind your head. Then I want you to slide underneath this table, crawl as quickly as you can to the otherside and book it to the door to find Dean. He'll probably be behind the far bleachers hooking up with some cheerleader. Bring him here and tell him that I'm currently fighting three unarmed, but capable civilians. If when he arrives, they're all down, apologize for ruining his lunch period. If I'm down, apologize anyway because that Stacey Morrison chick he's with is smoking hot, in his words." Sam finished in a level voice.

Eric was too shocked to say anything except stammer, "W-Wha -What…?"

"Ready?" Sam asked grimly, as if the prospect of a fight was a small speed bump in his day.

Eric only nodded, unable to do anything else.

"NOW!" Sam shouted, turning around to aim a hard punch into the substantial gut of the older teen who was about to put him into a painful headlock.