The first thing that Sam realized as he walked through the door of the modest cabin that he'd somehow managed to scrape up the money to rent was that Dean had finally gotten used to being carried. The second thing that he realized was that his brother was being uncharacteristically quiet.
"Dean, you all right?"
The boy just looked up at him, his eyes shining, brimming with tears. "I'm sorry," he blurted, struggling to escape his brother's grip, "I didn't mean to and it just slipped out and you're better than him and I'm sorry!"
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, lowering the boy to the ground and raising his eyebrows until they had disappeared under his bangs.
Dean hung his head. "I'm sorry," he croaked out, his voice wavering now.
"For what?" The boy didn't answer. "Look, Dean, I'm sorry we had to rush out, but I thought I saw… I did see Bobby. He was at the park."
"Are you sure it was him?" Dean asked, raising his eyes. Whatever he'd done to possibly make Sam mad, all thoughts of it had faded from his mind.
"I'm positive."
"How'd he find us?"
"I don't know."
"Did he follow us?"
"I don't know."
Dean swallowed hard, his throat making a small clicking noise. "We have to leave now, don't we?"
"Yeah," Sam sighed, "yeah, I think we do. Pack up."
Dragging his feet, Dean trudged up to his bedroom.
o0o0o0o0o0o
Sam laid back in his bed, eagerly awaiting a long night's sleep. He was tired. More than tired, actually. He was bone-weary. It was more work than he'd originally thought taking care of a five-year-old. He'd been running for most of the day, just trying to keep up with the kid. And it was only the beginning.
Tiny feet padded toward his bed not even a minute after he'd closed his eyes. "Sammy?" a cautious voice asked as a small finger lightly poked his arm, "you awake?"
Sighing, the older man opened his eyes. "Yeah, kiddo, I'm awake. You have another nightmare?"
Dean shook his head, looking up at Sam with eyes so full of mistrust that the older man's heart actually skipped a beat. Slowly, the boy pulled a think book from behind his back. It was the copy of Harry Potter that he'd snuck into the cart earlier that day.
"You want a story?" Sam asked, his voice flat. It didn't seem possible. The Fearless Dean Winchester reduced to a mere child at story time, too scared to ask to be read to because the answer might be no. "All right."
Dean pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed beside his brother, snuggling up just as close as he had the night before. Smiling, Sam took the book from him and began to read.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
After a while, Sam had gotten used to it. It was actually kind of nice, knowing that he was needed, that he could chase the monsters away. Back when they had still been traveling, from wherever it had been that they'd found the witch until they'd reached Bobby's house, Sam had gotten rooms with two beds. Only one of them was ever slept in.
Dean walked out of the bathroom, wiping the remnants of toothpaste off of his mouth. He grabbed a book from his small backpack and padded over toward the bed, climbing under the covers and scooting close to his brother.
Sam looped an arm around the kid. "So, I was thinking," he said softly, taking the book from the small hands and placing it onto his own lap, "and if Bobby's tracking us-"
"I can't go to school, can I?" Dean asked, his voice so soft and reserved that it made the older man's heart ache. The kid had asked to go back to school about a month before their fateful trip to the park, and Sam had agreed wholeheartedly.
"Looks like it's outta the question, at least until we can find someplace new to settle down."
Dean sighed, leaning heavily against his brother. "I wanted to go back," he whispered, "I wanted to pass and make friends and graduate. I wanted to play sports." He sighed again. "I wanted to go to college."
Sam blinked, his stomach dropping. He needed to change the subject, for his own good. He couldn't take that look, that tone of voice, the sadness that hid just below the surface.
"You kinda freaked out on me today," he said softly, reaching up to awkwardly stroke the boy's hair, "why?"
Dean turned eyes that were no longer sad, but scared, toward him. "I didn't mean to," he said, his voice barely audible, "it was an accident."
"What was?"
"Unless… it's all right with you." His whole face seemed to shine with hope at the prospect. "Because I always wanted… ever since the fire… and I tried to be for you, but it wasn't the same… I wanted…"
"Yeah?"
"I just wanted someone to take care of me."
Sam nodded. "Kinda got that."
"No. I wanted dad to take care of me. I wanted a dad. And today," he paused, staring up at Sam with those same sad eyes, the eyes that he had seen so much of in those first days after the curse, after the understanding. "Today I messed up. I guess I just started thinking of you as… and I shouldn't have because it was wrong. But it's ok," he hastily added, "because I'll pretend if you will, and nothing has to change."
"What are you talking about?"
Dean just snuggled closer under the covers, wrapping tiny arms, skinny arms, arms too thin to belong to the man that Sam had thought he knew, around his brother. "Nothing," he said, "I wanna know what happens to Harry. Does he ever find the seventh Horcrux?"
Sam sighed, opening the book. His brother was different, was younger, was weaker, was scared. And he wasn't going to wait for the movie.
o0o0o0o0o0o
Sam needed help. That much, he was sure of. He just didn't know who else to trust, didn't know of anyone else with dealings in curses.
"I'm glad you called," Bobby greeted him as the brothers arrived on the more experience hunter's doorstep. He looked down at Dean, his eyes widening in shock as the boy ducked back behind Sam's legs. "Really did a number on ya, huh?" Dean just nodded meekly.
"Thanks again, Bobby," Sam muttered as he stepped inside, Dean following close behind him, "it's only been a week and I'm at my wit's end."
"Thought you said he remembered."
Sam glanced down at his brother. "He does, but… it's complicated. I'll tell you later."
"How about Dean unpacks your bags and you tell me now, huh?"
Dean glanced up at Sam, looked over at Bobby, then turned his eyes back to his brother. "Sounds good," Sam said, nodding at the boy to go get the bags. For a moment, he didn't think that Dean would do it, the kid sent him such a hurt look, such a defiant stare, the he almost went to get their stuff by himself. But Dean turned and headed out the door and to the car.
"Now," Bobby said, lightly grabbing Sam's arm and leading him through the house to the cluttered kitchen, "what's wrong?"
"A witch that we killed had friends and they went after Dean, I guess," Sam explained, "turned him into a five-year-old. He told me that he remembered everything, but the first night…"
"What?"
"He… he crawled into bed with me. Said he'd had a nightmare and he was scared. He said that you used to-"
Bobby sighed. "He actually thought I was asleep, didn't he?"
"You knew?"
"Of course I knew. What kinda hunter would I be if something like that didn't wake me up?"
"But you let him-"
"Against my own better judgement. Look, Sam, I know that those dewy eyes of his have probably got you eating out of the palm of his hand, but-"
"He just wants someone to take are of him," Sam clarified, "like a second chance at childhood."
"Did you ever stop to think that maybe this is part of the curse? That maybe the witch planted those thoughts in his head to distract you?"
"But if he used to-"
"I mean, look at you, boy. You're run ragged already and it's only been a week. Think of what this'll do to you over the long haul."
Sam hung his head. "That's why I came here. I needed a break. I was kind of hoping that you could watch him for a while."
"Afraid I can't do that, Sam," Bobby said. "He can't stay like this."
"But-"
"Tell you what. I'll help, but in the meantime, I'm gonna look for a way to fix this."
"You can't. he doesn't want you to."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he's happy now," Sam blurted, "happier than I've ever seen him."
Bobby shook his head. "He can't stay like this. You can't handle it."
"I can try." And that was that.