Hey guys! What's up-long time no see. Sorry I haven't updated in a while-I've been busy with other stories and other things too. A reminder-I don't own anything from Supernatural-the only thing I own are my '. I hope I can update sooner but I can't promise anything so don't hate me please if a month or so goes by and there is no update. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the read-

The house was slightly dirtied; there was dust on the ending of the ceiling and cobwebs forming in the corners. Even the furniture has a coating of grey substance and every time it was cleaned it comes back even quicker. The only thing that didn't seem unused was the beds, the dining table and the couch. But it didn't matter, currently there are only two people living there, two boys.

An older brother-12 maybe 13 years old, he has short brown hair and in the right light beautiful green eyes. His name is Dean Winchester, and looks after his younger brother. Mostly he feeds him lies-but he knows the truth. There are such things as monsters under the bed and in his closet. There are vampires, ghosts, and demons…but he didn't want to scare his brother-it was his job to look after him.

His younger brother is four years younger then him and to be honest doesn't understand what the hell Dean has to put up with. But Dean doesn't seem to mind looking after him-well he does it's just that he does it because he's already lost his mother. Now he's losing his father little by little, so given the chance to protect his little brother, Sam, he accepted.

Sam was sleeping; Dean sat on the bed across from him just boredly watching him. Their father had left on another one of his 'hunts'. Their father always says 'it's only going to be a day or so', but a day turns into two days, and two days turns into three. Then a whole week has gone back and his kids don't even know that he's alive. Finally after a week and a half of radio silence, he comes back scars and all.

What Sam dreamed about was that moment-his father coming home…but when he opened his eyes-it wasn't his eyes. Sure they were the same color, same curiosity but a different personality.

"Dean," he said curiously.

"Hey Sam," Dean smiled as he stood up.

"Is dad home yet?" The young brother wondered but was startled at his words as if they weren't his own.

The smile faded away from the older brother's face, "I told you not to ask about it." Dean looked away guilt ridden, he didn't want to lie to his baby brother but it was the only way to protect him.

"When is he coming home?" Sam wondered, again confused at the sound of hearing his voice and words.

"I said don't ask about." Dean ordered again, "He'll come home when he comes home alright!"

Sam took a deep breath and looked away, "He's been away for two days already-"

"And he's gonna come back, Sam," his older brother assured, "Now stopped worrying about it and come eat your breakfast."

Giving up on trying getting the truth out his older brother he sat up and then walked to the kitchen.

The boys didn't have much to choose from, there was a half box of Fruit Loops, four slices of bread that Dean was saving for lunch, and three eggs. So, it's not like they had to debate for very long about what to eat.

"What'ca what," the big brother wondered.

"Fruit Loops I guess…" Sam replied.

Still Sam was baffled by his own words-it was like he was there but he wasn't in the control. It's like same is saying the words but something else is watching through his eyes. Sam didn't really notice or seem to care; but the thing that was watching through his eyes was confused.

Without complaint the older brother fetched the red box and poured the multicolored rings of cereal. As they ate the other mind that had hitched a ride finally remembered who it was…Dylan-Dylan Young, not Sam Winchester. He doesn't have a brother name Dean-he doesn't even have any siblings…so what the hell is he doing in Sam's body?

"I wish mom was here…" Sam informed.

You have no idea, his brother thought to himself as he thought back to that night.

…

Mary held her six month old son in her arms. She slowly rocked him back and forth as she hummed a song. It was an old song-but recent enough that the boy behind the eyes recognized it. It was 'Hey Jude,' by the Beatles.

"Hey Jude…don't make it bad…take a sad song and make it better." The sound her voice calmed the infant making the child lay still in her arms as he listened to the soft lullaby, "Remember to let her into your heart and then you can start to make it better…"

As the song continued Sam was slowly lulled into a trance like state but Dylan was wide awake and aware of everything. He couldn't really understand where he was-but he understood who he was with. Sam knew he was safe and with family so Dylan also carried that feeling.

Then he felt a soft quick kiss on his forehead and some blonde kid saying something alone the lines of, "Night Sammie,"
Oh that must be Dean…a really young dean, innocent to the world and unknowing was what he was destined to do.

After the lights went out it was hours before someone else came-but for some reason the only thing Sam and Dylan could see was the dark ceiling. It was strangely peaceful though…well all the way up until a thick; irony liquid was poured into Sam's mouth. The baby tried to cry for help because he knew this person wasn't his father or his mother.

Stop, Dylan wanted to scream, stop-go away!

But a six month old baby was no match for a full grown man, he heard his mother walk by and ask, "John-is he hungry?"

Softly the man told her to be quiet and being tired his mother didn't bother trying to stop the man. The mom continued on her way downstairs but stops at the staircase to fix flickering light.

A slight suspicion rises in her as she hears the quiet murmurs coming from the T.V. As she slowly goes down the stairs to prevent her other son, Dean, from waking up she notices a figure passed out on the couch, that figure is man she calls her husband.

Without a second to lose to sprints upstairs and yells, "SAMMY,"

But Dylan didn't get to see the last of what happened the night, he opened his blue eyes to another room he didn't recognize.
It was a dorm room, a college dorm room maybe. The shower was on, some lights are shining-he was laying down listening to water run in the bathroom behind him. Someone must be taking a shower-a roommate perhaps a friend? Dylan was still trying to piece together why he would be in a college dorm room and why how he got here in the first place. The only thing he knew was that he was taking a ride with Sam through his memories. But which memory was this?
Suddenly as Sam closed his eyes, a scarlet liquid dripped onto his head. The young man opened his eyes surprised and struggled to stay calm, "NO," he screamed as the whole world caught on fire.

OOOO

Dylan gasped awake, his heart raced in his chest as sweat drenched his skin. He could barely breathe; he still felt Sam's panic and uncontrollable fear. The image of Sam's girlfriend burning on the ceiling was stuck on his mind and refused to be forgotten. Dylan could still feel the flames heat lick his skin and explore the room as…Jessica-was that her name…as Jessica's bloodied body was engulfed and surrounded by the head and the growing fire.

The boy's was spinning as he tried to cling to one reality and not the memory. But every time he tried to rip his mind and separate himself from Sam he just pulled in deeper. The chains that locked him in to the memory became tighter and tighter, and the lock wouldn't break. As the ropes that were tied around his neck started suffocate him, it slowly relaxed, easing him into an eerie calm state.

Breathing slowly, he laid back down in the stiff bed he woke up in and stared at the ceiling once more. There was no lady up there and no one was on fire. There was no dark man in shadows or orange flames creeping around the room. Everything was normal-was he back in his own time? Was he him again?
Quickly standing up went to door and carefully opened it, where was he? Had Sam and Dean carried him here when he passed out? How long was he asleep for? Fog clouded his memory; all he could remember was what he had seen in his dreams…or someone else's nightmare.

Dean was asleep on the couch; his half drunk beer was still in his hand and threatening to dance over the edge of the couch and crash on to the floor. The T.V was on; the people on the screen talked softly, lulling the green eyed man deeper and deeper into a much needed rest.

Quietly Dylan tiptoed into the large room a little bit further trying not to awaken Dean. But he didn't run away from him, in fact he got closer to examine him. He looked so tired, so exhausted, but it seemed that he never seemed to acknowledge that tiredness. He always needed to stay awake, protect his little brother; that was the only thing he wanted to do. The young boy took the dark glass from the sleeping man's hand and placed it on the table. He must be cold, Dylan thought himself and without even thinking a blanket appeared in his hand and he was throwing it on the sleeping man. Dean almost looked peaceful sleeping there, as though there was nothing that he had to worry. No apocalypse to worry about it, no one to protect in his dreams, just blissful sleep.

Suddenly the door began to open, "There is nothing physically wrong with Dylan," Castiel informed as he walked in with Sam. He was wearing his usual outfit, a suit and trench coat. Even though Dylan couldn't place the memory, but a warm feeling came over him, like as if he were watching his son taking his first steps. Wait…what-no-no, he wasn't even nine yet, he couldn't be a father-he didn't even have a father. A real father…who was he father-his real dad, "I can't heal him,"

"I'm fine," Dylan said quietly so not to wake Dean. He was so calm and at peace with the world. There was even a certain glow around him, one of pure happiness that infected everyone with just joy and calmed their nerves. Sam could tell, his worried heart began to lighten. Castiel was indifferent; he felt no change in the atmosphere unlike Sam.

The dark haired boy with crystal blue eyes looked at them with curiosity. He didn't feel threatened or under siege, in fact he felt at home, with family and friends. The boy walked to kitchen, opened the dinky white fridge and took a small box of juice. Sam had bought a few of them while Dylan was asleep, as with a couple of Lunchables because all him and his brother eat is junk food and drink cheap beer. Their kid wouldn't have to go through life with drunken parents.

Theirs…the word almost scared the Winchesters. They didn't have the 'perfect' childhood by any means or stretch of the imagination. Their father in some ways abused them, trained them and raised them as soldiers and warriors. Instead of learning cursive and doing home like 'normal' kids, they were taught how to melt silver into bullet and shoot shotguns with rock salt. How could they expect themselves to look after a kid when their father never even set an example for them?

Dylan didn't seem to mind. He had complete faith in the Winchesters. But then again he wasn't even a teenager yet-most kids around his age don't question their parents as much as they should.

"D-Dylan," Sam said unsurely, "you're awake?"

He nodded as he stuck the straw in the green container filled with a sweet apple liquid. But before he started sipping he held a finger to his pale red lips and quietly shushed as he pointed to Dean who was still sound asleep on the couch. Sam looked in the general direction and made an 'oh' look with his face before nodded and looking at Castiel, "Cas-uh-be quiet, Dean's sleeping."

Castiel nodded but didn't reply.

"So-uh-Dylan," Sam said quietly as he looked around, "what do you remember about…well before you passed out?"

Those words sent him into a daze; he didn't remember exactly what happened. He recalled a feeling similar to being in a trance. He knew what he was did-but he couldn't remember how or why. But the one thing he did remember was hearing so many voices, so many sad voices pleading him to do things, so many things. Half of what the voice said he couldn't remember or understand-well at the moment they did but now…it's like gibberish.

"No," the boy replied, he technically wasn't lying, he didn't remember all of it, but that doesn't mean he forgot everything, "I just know I don't have a family anymore." The blue eyed boy didn't want to believe his own words. He wanted this all to be a bad dream and at one point he'll be shaken awake by his dad and then he'll go to school and meet his friends.

Sam placed his hand on the boys shoulder, he could relate to how he was feeling. He had lost his mom, dad, and all of the girls he ever fell in love with. Most of his friends have been killed too…let's just say that if you're hanging around the Winchester's-there is a high chance of dying,

"Yeah…I know how you feel." Sam said.

Dylan nodded, he would have mentioned Mary or Jess-but he didn't exactly know how to bring it up. 'I saw your girlfriend being killed and the night your mom died,' that wouldn't exactly fly. So to get his mind off of his dreams he looked at his cloths, they were so dirty, covered in a thin layer of mud and wrinkled beyond belief. His mother-sorry-his 'mother' wouldn't have ever let him walk out the door like this. Then without even thinking about it he was back in his old room. Still a mess from however many nights ago, a bit dusty, smelt like sulfur and flowers.

Without much speed Dylan walked over to his closet, he have much concern of what he picked-he just grabbed things and threw them in one of his father's gym bags. But he wasn't angry; he couldn't find how to be angry at how his parents left him. Because it was his fault, Dylan was the one who erased their memories. He's the one who saved their souls for damnation. It was his choice and he didn't regret it…at least he hoped he didn't.

After throwing the last item in the bag he looked around and sighed, he was going to miss this room. He was going to miss the family dinners, the baseball games his father would take him to. He'd miss the Easter egg hunts, and the Christmases spent here. He'd miss the birthdays' spent here and every night how his mother and father would kiss him goodnight and sometimes on occasion tell him a story.

"Goodbye," he whispered as if the room were alive and would talk back to him and hug him goodbye. But the things that belonged in this room-the things that lived here for so long and now…the room is just empty and lonely, "Goodbye," he repeated but no sure who or what to.

As he sighed he was back at the place he woke up in with a bag or two in tow. His blue eyes were sad as he look off somewhere in the distance. He no longer had a family-so why should he be happy?

Sam saw Dylan's face and understood how he felt. Dean knew it more though, he remembered how his father and how his mother died. He was there; but Sam saw everyone he had every love died too and sometimes he felt that it was his fault, "Hey," Sam said softly as he quickly walked over to Dylan and knelt down. He looked into the boy's depressed blue eyes on the brink of tears as his chest rose up and down trying to contain his sobs, "it's going to be ok." Lies flew off his tongue because those were the words kids wanted to hear. They wanted to hear the lie then to listen to the truth, the sad; the horrible truth of life. Sam took the young boy into his arms right before the salty tears rolled down his face. Sobs racked through Dylan as he pressed himself into the comforting arms of Sam, "You'll be ok."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

It was night outside, the stars shined brightly along with the moon that glowed behind the almost invisible clouds. Dean was still asleep, nobody had bothered him-all of them knew how he struggled to go to sleep. He always went to sleep after his brother; it was just a force of habit. So waking up on the couch in the middle of the night wasn't weird, but waking up with a blanket and a pillow was. How long had he been asleep? Why didn't anyway wake him up?

As he looked around he saw Dylan asleep on his side next to Sam. His brother hadn't yet fallen into his dreams yet, he was researching, but every few minutes or so he'd look at the boy and a tiny smile would form on his face, and then he'd go back to reading his book full of information about demons and witchcraft.

"Sam," questioned Dean, "what-why-" Sam shushed quietly as he looked down at Dylan. He looked so peaceful sleeping there, no worries, no problems-much more than Dean or Sam did when they were sleeping. Old memories haunted their dreams, along with certain demons and witches. They were ruined of a so called 'perfect' childhood-but maybe Dylan can be different, maybe they'll be the family that theirs never really was.

Whoa, whoa, whoa-wait a minute, there is no way they can take care of kid. They can barely stay alive and in one piece-let alone take care of a child who is dependant on them. But…Dean had taken care of Sam-sure he's not a perfect person-but he was the father and the mother which Sam never got to have.

"I just got him to fall asleep a few minutes ago." Sam said softly, not wanting to wake Dylan fast asleep with his softly laying on Sam's arm, "He was waiting for you to wake up." The boy couldn't hear them, he was dreaming of angels working in heaven, he saw their beautiful forms-yet how they could contain themselves in the form of their vessels. He loved how they talked-but didn't understand why they never laughed or joked, are they not capable of that?

"You should've woken me up." Dean stated.

"For what Dean," Sam pointed out, "we aren't exactly under attack or anything-besides-you could use the sleep."

"But what if we were," the older brother wondered, "how do we know that those demons that were after him aren't going to come back?" Dean had point; there were no certainties that Dylan was safe from those demons. They could be just waiting for them to be defenseless and then BAM Dylan is dead and their left to clean up the mess.

"I don't know Dean." Sam admitted, "At least the ones that were are gone now."

"But now he doesn't have a family," Dean pointed out, "we can't just leave him at a relatives house-he's got a bounty on his head!" And he has no family, Dean wanted to add, the boy wasn't safe with anyone. Not even the Winchesters, but at least they were something. They were somewhere with some food, stolen money, and a roof over his head. Maybe-no- a Hunter's life is no life for a kid. Sam and Dean went through that and they refuse to let anyone else go through life fearing going to sleep at night.

"What do you suggest?" Sam wondered.

"I don't know…" Dean sighed looking at the sleeping boy, "maybe we could…I don't know-take him with us. He'd be safe-we could get Cas to babysit-" Sam looked at him strangely. Dean never really liked to deal with kid. Sure-stand them and eventually become attached to them-but it took time. This-Dean barely knew the kid-met him maybe three days ago and he suddenly cares? Sam would do this-but Dean…he only babies Sam like that.

"Dean, Cas can't-"

"Then where can we put him?" Dean asked, "There isn't exactly a demon proof house we can leave him at." Hunter's don't always stay in the same place; so they can't exactly open an orphanage to look after kids who are targeted by demons. And from what they know, there aren't exactly any safe houses for hunted individuals. You run or you die, there is no in between.

Sam opened his mouth but nothing came out. He knew what Dean was saying; they've ruined so many lives before-old and young-human and inhuman. They had brought pain and suffering to almost everyone they had met. And now they had a chance, a chance to help and maybe make a real difference in life by giving this boy a home-or at least somewhere he felt he had somewhere to be.

Dylan shifted in his sleep as he nuzzled his shaggy head on Sam's arm as if to signal him that it was time to give up. Sam sighed as he gingerly picked up the sleeping boy, "Welcome to the family Dylan," he murmured as he went to go place him on his bed.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

By the time the morning sun rose Sam and Dean were already awake; while Dylan on the other hand was still blissfully asleep in his bed. His dark hair covered his eyes and was blown up and down due to his breathing. He looked rather comfortable on the motel bed, layered with thin blankets and a single pillow seemed to be the only thing he needed. Maybe a small stuffed animal-a little kid should have at least one right?

A small knock sounded at the door, "Hey kid," said Dean, "time to wake."

The boy opened his eyes halfway and looked at the man in the door and sighed as he sat up. He stretched for a few seconds while yawning. His hair was pointing out in every direction possible; it also stuck to his face with the drool that formed over night. His blue eyes looked tired and glazed as he stared the door.

"Come on," Dean stated, "breakfast is ready." The sound of food broke the boy of the trance like state he was in and slowly he got out of the bed and shuffled to the kitchen. There weren't many options; some kid's cereal, recently bought bread, a packet of ham and bologna, and some eggs in the fridge. Not exactly a buffet but it was enough for the Winchesters. Hopefully it would be good enough for Dylan-not that he that picky of an eater. The only thing he hated eating was his vegetables. Broccoli was the worst, carrots came in second, peas and corn were a close third. He preferred fruit-bananas, strawberries, grapes, and maybe a little bit of cantaloupe or some apples.

"Did you sleep well?" Dean wondered.

Dylan shrugged but did not reply. He sat down absentmindedly and stared at the table. Obviously wasn't a morning so the conversation ended there. Sam poured a glass of orange juice while Dean had a glass of milk. Dylan opted with Sam's choice and had some juice. The trio had scramble eggs and ham without any conversation.

While they got ready to leave Dean and Sam stood next to the Impala and looked at the abandoned kid who had no where else to turn, "Hey-uh…" Dean started as he looked to Sam for help.

"Dylan," Sam asked, "would you like to come with us?"

The light shined behind his eyes at the sound of those words. He had a look of disbelief on his face. They wanted him? They weren't just going to leave and forget about him like his parents? "With you," questioned Dylan not rejecting the idea at all.

"Yeah," Dean said, "on the road, helping people."

"Like my parents?" Dylan wondered, almost sad at the thought.

"Yeah," the Hunter replied.

"You won't hit me with your car again will you?" The dark haired boy joked.

The brothers chuckled as they shook their head and replied their no's. The child smiled as he jumped up and ran to hug the brothers. They were caught off guard for a moment while they adjusted to feeling of a young child hugging their waist. It was strange; they hadn't ever truly taken care of a child. Hell they were more of trained than raised-so how will they know what is right and wrong.

"I trust you." Dylan smiled as he hopped into the back of the Impala.

And it was at that moment the brothers looked at each other and for once finally agreed whole heartedly on one decision. The choice to take in Dylan could make them or break them but they would surely not give up easily.

"So," Dean wondered as he shifted the car into gear, "where to, kid?"

"I don't know." Dylan said as he looked out the window, "Anywhere with you guys I guess." He didn't have anywhere else to go. This car and these people are now his family and home. But he didn't worry about the future; he just wanted to be apart of something-mean something to someone, and have somewhere to call home. Same, Dean, and Cas when he is around, know what the boy is feeling right now. Alone, confused, deserted and with no one to around to support him-afraid.

But here they again.

On the forever winding rode.

Where they go-only the future knows.

But none of them are ever alone, because now they are family.

For better or for worse

Hello again-so I hope you liked it. It took awhile to get past a parts and sorry if there are any mistakes or anything seems rushed. So again I'll try to update a bit more but can't promise when. So yeah...have a good one and remember-stay awesome my friends-cupcakekiller12