AN: Thank you so so much for reading… and following. I started writing this fic a few months ago & I'm having terrible trouble finishing it. I'm hoping that if the pressure is on me & I start posting the story, an idea will pop in my head. I'm still waiting!

Anyway here's part 2. Enjoy!

*SN*

Part 2

Sam learned a lot about his new friend, Emily Little, as they sat together in the dim light. Although she was only a couple of months older than him, she had never attended school. She lived at home with her mother, father and five month old brother in a house not ten minutes walk from the library. Her mother got sick soon after her little brother was born and ever since then, Emily has had to take care of him and the house. Whenever it got too much for her, she would sneak into the library for a few hours of peace.

Within the short time they sat together, he learned that she loved jelly sweets and salted potato chips, which he willingly shared with her. He learned that her favourite book was The Secret Garden, which she constantly borrowed from the library. They shared the same favourite smell; cut grass and the same drink; pink lemonade. They also shared the same love for their brother.

"Sometimes he's annoying, though," she said tearing a jelly apart with her teeth. "He cries a lot and when he's not crying he needs feeding or changing." She looked up at her new friend shyly. "Sometimes daddy gives out to me 'cause he says it's my fault he's crying."

But Sam shook his head and told her that it wasn't. "He's just a baby. All babies cry."

Emily nodded and silently ate her jelly.

"Sometimes my brother is annoying, too," Sam shared. "He says he's protecting me but I think it's just another word for lying. Plus he shouts at me… a lot… especially when I ask him about our mom." His head dropped to the side in thought. He wished she hadn't died when he was a baby. He wished he had at least a few memories of her like Dean had. He wished he could remember at least one thing.

Emily got to her feet. "I have to go home now," she announced and before he could argue, she skipped away leaving Sam all alone again.

*SN*

John groaned awake raising his head off the pillow and pushing the empty cans out his face. His head felt as though it had been hit by a truck. His ears felt as though there were a thousand bees buzzing inside them and his eyes burned like they were staring into a hundred suns. It was like he was suffering the mother of all hangovers. He dropped his leg and arm out over the side of the bed and let them hang there for a few seconds before he rolled out over the edge. He struggled to steady himself on his feet and held onto the wall for support.

With his eyes barely open, he staggered over to the bathroom holding his head when the door squeaked open louder than expected. He leaned heavily over the sink and didn't know whether he wanted to sit on the toilet or throw up in it. He didn't have to wait too long for an answer. He lifted the lid in time to empty the contents of his stomach.

Ten seconds later, he was leaning over the sink again. He turned on the cold tap and splashed as much water as he could over his face even scooping some in his mouth to wash out the unpleasant taste. He groaned when he looked at his reflection. Dark bags hung from his eyes. The creases around his mouth and forehead had deepened in recent years and he looked a lot older than he should. He rubbed his hands over his face again and glanced at his watch. It was just after two. "Time for breakfast," he tried to smile but failed miserably.

He exited the bathroom announcing to his sons that he was going out for food if they fancied joining him but he was alone. This had happened to him before. He had gone out drinking, gotten up late and found them the next day eaten, dressed and playing outside. He checked outside the door. There were two children playing across the road but they weren't his. He closed the door again leaning his back against its wooden frame. He narrowed his eyes as they covered the room. The other double bed was neatly made and there was a blanket on a chair opposite it. John frowned and wondered why his boys hadn't slept together. Dean often complained about having to share a bed with this brother but the chair didn't look especially comfortable.

He looked around the room again. There was a sheet of paper on the writing desk. On it, Dean had written that he had taken Sam to the zoo. "The zoo!?" John whispered. "But today's Tuesday!" He grabbed yesterday's paper to confirm the day. It was indeed Tuesday. He knew they had snuck into zoos for free before, although he didn't approve. But he knew that if they waited long enough for a large group of children, the zookeeper usually opened the gates wide enough to allow them to sneak inside. The chance of that happening, though, on a Tuesday was highly improbable, John shook his head in thought. School tours usually occurred on a Thursday or Friday and birthday parties mainly happened on Saturdays. Nothing every happened on a Tuesday especially during school term.

Something wasn't right.

He dropped the note and looked around the room a third time. He noticed Sam's bag was missing. He checked the bottom drawer of the cupboard that was usually left for Sam's clothes. It was empty. He checked the middle drawer which usually contained Dean's clothes. They were still present. John rubbed his hand through his hair and wondered what was going on. He tried to remember what happened the night before. He could barely remember coming home. "Maybe I'll remember something after I get some food in me," he shook his head when he heard his stomach grumble.

He slipped on his coat and shoes. Reaching the door, he noticed a pile of empty cans on the floor and as he began picking them up, the memories suddenly flashed back. "Oh my God," he gasped in horror and quickly ran out the door. "Sammy!"

*SN*

Dean was running out of options and time. He looked at his watch. It was just after four. If his father had bothered to check the opening times of the local zoo, he would find that it closed at five on Monday and Tuesday, which meant that he had less time than he thought to find his brother. He had checked all the areas he considered good places to get lost in. He checked restaurants, cafes, churches and even a number of local schools, just in case but his little brother was nowhere to be seen.

Realizing he needed help, he reluctantly headed back to the motel. He dragged his feet along the gravel and wondered how he was going to face his father. He was already scared of his father when he was angry and drunk. But he couldn't imagine how bad an angry father who was sober would be. He passed an empty beer can and his body filled with such hatred he angrily kicked it hard across the road. A car swerved to avoid it and the driver stuck his head out to yell at Dean. But Dean didn't see the car. He didn't even see the driver. What he did see was a large sign for the Jackson public library.

He sprinted to the doors and passed the unsuspecting librarian. Pushing his way through two very large women he began searching every corner. The library was a lot bigger than he expected and had two floors. The ground floor contained books for the general public and the first floor contained research books. Dean checked everywhere especially the areas at the back. He was about to give up hope when he noticed a number of tables arranged peculiarly. He leaned his head over them and saw his little brother turning the page of a rather large tattered book.

"Sammy!" he squealed with excitement and jumped at him. In shock, Sam rigidly let him be hugged but anger soon swelled up inside and he pushed his brother away. "What is it?" Dean asked. "Can't I be happy to see my little brother?"

Sam shrugged. "You hurt me Dean. Dad may have hit me but what you did was way worse," he bent down to his bag and began refilling it.

Dean nodded. "I know and I'm sorry. I promise that'll never happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," his brother mumbled sadly. He zipped up his bag and readied himself to find another hiding place. But Dean stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. Sam unwillingly looked into his eyes.

"You're my little brother," Dean started. "I swear to you no matter who it is, whether its dad or a monster, I promise, from now on, I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear, Sammy."

Sam nodded softly. He wanted to believe him. "What if you're the one who's hurting me?"

Dean shook his head and removed his hand. He wasn't expecting that response and gasped a little. He didn't think he had ever hurt him before. Then Sam explained that whenever he mentioned their mother, Dean would shout at him to shut up. "I know it's my fault she's dead," he said with tears in his eyes.

"No, no way," Dean shouted but quickly quieted his voice. He didn't want to frighten his brother and he certainly didn't want to attract attention from any adult. "She died trying to protect you. You didn't kill her. It was that damn monster. It isn't your fault."

"Then why can't we ever talk about her," Sam whispered so quietly he was hardly audible.

Dean sighed. He hated talking about their mother. It always made him remember how much he missed her. He never thought that Sam would be missing her too. He didn't even know her. "You know why I love ordering strawberry milkshakes when we eat out?" he wanted to give his little brother a memory. It was something he should have done a long time ago. Sam shook his head letting his blonde hair swallow his eyes. "It smells like mom's perfume," Dean smiled.

*SN*