Okay, long list of thanks. Sushi Chi...this story would have died at the prologue without her. Also, go read her Simple as Pie story. It's the shit, seriously. Thanks to PA Davis as usual for going "what bullshit were you trying to pull here?" and then me doing my best to fix it. I'm sure half of it is still crap. Oh well, I apologise, I tried. Thanks to Mish, who as usual, cheers me on when I have my "why bother?" moments. We need our own personal cheerleaders sometimes. (hah. Well..I'll leave the walker jokes out for now, but you know they're coming!) and then, thank you to Goddess Laughs, I swear to god the next chapter will have changes in it. Life is too stressful for me to have edited this chapter again.
Someday
Chapter One:
As the sun hit his face Dean woke up with a yawn several minutes before his alarm was set to go off. It would be a good day, he figured. This was his second week as a freshman at the local high school. For once, he was fitting in and had friends.
His father had promised that they would stay for another month or two at the least. Turning off his alarm so it wouldn't disturb his father or brother, he got out of bed, digging his toes into the deep soft carpet. Pulling out a pair of jeans from a drawer, and not his duffel, he smiled again.
Feeling awake and refreshed the way he always did when the sun woke him in place of his alarm. He had once asked his father about it, to which John said that being jolted awake made you feel like you needed more sleep and were being deprived, but just waking up naturally made you feel rested and like it was just time. It made sense.
Selecting a soft undershirt, grey, and then his black Henley, he debated a soft linen over shirt, before pulling out boxer briefs and padding into the bathroom.
Sam was in grade school, and didn't have to leave for another hour, but high school started promptly at 7:30am.
Showering quickly, he was almost eager to get there. He had some teachers he liked, others he didn't, and more importantly, he liked his classes.
Making breakfast, Dean decided to cook pancakes, thrilled to actually have the luxury of a full pantry. Putting vanilla extract into the batter with the tiniest hint of almond extract, he heated the skillet to. He then put most of the pancakes on a plate and put it into the oven to stay warm for Sam and their dad. Putting the few he'd left for himself into a folded paper towel. Next he grabbed his backpack checked it for his homework and textbooks before running out of the apartment and down the stairs to meet Lily and Peter so they could all walk together.
Lily had beautiful black hair and dark skin that gave credit to her Native American heritage, and she was one of the nicest people in the world. Peter was about Dean's height, but with a stockier build, something he said came from his African roots.
"Want some pancakes?" Dean asked, considering they usually shared their lunches with him because school food was sometimes pretty nasty. Other times it could be okay, though.
"You make them yourself?" Lily asked, and he smiled with a nod. He handed her one, and she took a bite, eyes closing appreciatively.
"Dude, you are hella chipper this morning," Pete laughed. "I don't think I've ever seen you awake in the morning!" as Dean fell in step with them. "Tell me, Dean, what's the point of pancakes without syrup?"
Lily punched Pete's arm with a long suffering sigh. "Try one, they don't need syrup."
"Wish you could get Sam to believe that," Dean laughed.
"What'd…you didn't follow the recipe, did you?" she asked.
"Yes and no. I like to add my own stuff," like his mother used to. "You guys aren't allergic to almond, are you?" he asked guiltily.
"Nope! My mom makes a great almond cupcake, I'll see if I can get her to make some for us," Lily offered.
"We still on for the study session thing tonight?" Pete asked.
"If I fail a test ever again, my Dad'll kill me," Dean said by way of answer.
"You've failed a test," Pete asked skeptically. "Yeah right, like I'm gonna ever believe that one."
"I…we move around a lot, and sometimes I didn't pay much attention to things," Dean admitted sheepishly.
"Yeah but how hard could middle school have been?" Lily teased, finishing up her pancake.
"This is my fourth high school," he mumbled, but wasn't ashamed. As long as he didn't tell them about the demons, he could tell them anything. They were his friends.
"Can I come with you to help pick up Sam?" Lily asked. Considering she hated the idea of Dean waiting there alone for almost an hour and a half before grade school let out.
"Why don't you and Pete both come, and we can start studying early?"
"Sounds good t'me," Pete replied as they walked onto the school campus. Dean had two classes with Pete, three with Lily, and one with both of them. They also had lunch together, and tended to eat out on the steps -unless it was raining- instead of the louder lunch room. So used to being moved around and not spending time with people, crowded places like lunchrooms made Dean uncomfortable.
Pete split away from them but not before saying, "Don't piss off Mr. Engels, okay? Dude, cut him some slack it's first period!" Pete joked, watching Dean's face turn red.
--
His first day there had not been smooth by any means. He'd picked a fight with the biggest kid in school, pissed off all his teachers, and landed himself in the principal's office. All before fourth period was over. At lunch, Lily had just lit into him, sick of the trouble he was causing, and had asked him if he'd been raised in a barn, and told him his mother would be absolutely ashamed of him, behaving like that. He was better than that, and she clearly deserved a better son. She'd seen the hurt in his face. After class, he'd been sitting alone on the steps, and she'd come over.
I'm sorry about your mom. I didn't know. My dad died, when I was eight, she'd told him, putting an arm around his shoulders. I started acting out, and Pete, he knew my dad was dead, and he'd known my dad. Said my dad would be ashamed of the girl I was. I cleaned up my act. I think you live in our building. Why don't you walk with me'n Pete?
He'd let his head touch her shoulder, just for a second that day before they'd both stood, he'd explained he had to get his brother, and she'd offered to go with him. Keep him company. He'd told her no, but she'd come anyway. Took him about a week to settle in, and since then the three of them had all been good friends. Inseparable.
--
Two weeks later he practically moved into Lily's apartment because her mother was always around. She worked from home, and both Pete's parents worked and it sucked being alone from two-thirty to six every day. And Dean didn't like being alone any more than Pete, so he and Sammy spent a lot of time with Mrs. Brown and her daughter. It still made Dean smile when he thought about how he had been introduced.
Dean this is my best friend. Oh, yeah, she's also my mom. Mom, this is Dean. He's our resident problem student.
He'd blushed, that wasn't quite fair. But, he'd seen the smile on Lily's face, and the wink she gave her mother.
Hey Dean. She'd shaken his hand. I know that you probably think I'm some boring old lady, she smiled, but I promise, I'm still hip and all that jazz.
He'd laughed. She'd looked indignantly at him, what AC/DC too old school for you? He'd liked her instantly.
Classes passed easily, and Dean generally looked forward to lunch even though he hadn't been hungry the past few days. Mrs. Brown always packed Lily's lunches with enough food for all three of them, and Pete generally managed to have something to contribute. The best Dean could do was get school lunch free and see how much of the food bounced. So, in essence, he provided the entertainment. Sitting on the steps like that had become their custom since Lily had first come to him, "Whatcha got?" he asked.
"What's school lunch?
"Those weird round pizza things. They don't bounce, we tried that last week."
"Darn. Carrots?"
"No, soup on the side."
"The soup might bounce," Lily suggested hopefully.
"Or it might come to life and eat us," Pete pointed out. Conversations were random, and never about anything important. Dean felt normal, talking with them, not like a freak, not like in elementary school or any of the others. Didn't matter he was the new kid, didn't matter that he'd acted out like that. They let him belong.
"So, I have what looks like six cookies," she said, passing two each out to her friends. "I also have celery sticks with peanut butter," she eyed Dean meaningfully.
"I eat veggies at home," he protested.
"Liar," she and Pete told him dryly. Rolling his eyes at them, Dean selected a celery stick and took an exaggerated bite.
"Oh my god, he's not dead yet. You owe me ten bucks," Pete told Lily. Dean glared.
"And I have three half sandwiches with a note that says we should all drop by after school."
"Like we don't anyway," Pete and Dean pointed out in unison, looking at each other in shock.
"Dude, that's just creepy," Dean told him. "Seriously not cool."
"See, here I was thinking you two were being cute."
They both stared at each other in horror before saying "Lil-ee!" in true double mint twin style.
She just giggled at them. "What'd your parents give you?"
"Some sort of granola bars…" he had two, which would get broken up and divided among them. "I've got a pudding cup."
"We could get extra spoons."
"Or dip the granola bars in it," Dean pointed out.
"That might make them almost edible," came Pete's casual reply.
"That bad?"
"Why do you think they're in my lunch?" The three laughed and joked their way through the lunch break, and Dean managed to survive the rest of the day without mouthing off to any teachers. Pete was generally able to give him a look that would shut him up, and Lily would just reach over and pull his hair or twist his ear. Not hard enough to hurt him, she wasn't mean. She just didn't tolerate that kind of bull from him, and he knew it. Or at least he learned quickly enough what he could and couldn't get away with. But he liked them.
Dean was out of his seat in a flash when the bell rang "'Bout damn time," stretching out his body and rolling his neck until it popped. Sitting back in his chair he twisted his torso around to grip the back and pull until his back popped, then twisted the other way, repeating the process. "So, Sam's class gets out a little early today," Dean said, meaning they were going to have to walk fast.
"Race you."
"I'm not running with this bag on my shoulders, we'll just walk fast, like normal people."
"Kill joy."
Lily sighed, "someone here has to have a brain. It's not my fault that it's not one of you. Although, I can't say as I'm surprised. Women are the smarter members of the species."
"Well, in their own minds, at least," Dean quipped, running a few paces ahead to stay out of her reach. Pete laughed. Dean stopped suddenly, coughing hard.
"You okay dude?" Pete gripped Dean's shoulder tightly, Lily's face was the picture of concern.
"Yeah, I'm good," he wiped at his face a little. "Just a little sick. Sammy musta picked up a bug or something. Snotty germy little kids, y'know. I'm okay."
"It may have only been a few weeks, but we know when you're lying."
"Later okay? I just wanna get to Sam."
"He okay?"
"Yeah, he's fine, I just, they're getting out early, and Dad might come and pick us all up," Dean finished.
"You mean we might get to actually see the infamous John Winchester for more than two seconds? Let's go!" Soon Dean was the one being tugged forward. They ran into Sam's school building laughing. Dean collided with something very solid in the hallway, but before he was tipped over strong hands gripped his light jacket, hauling him up to his feet.
"Hi Dad!" he said breathlessly, before glancing at his friends and starting to laugh. "Dad, this is Pete, Pete my dad, Dad this is Lily, Lily, meet my dad." Grinning at his friends' faces, his father had that effect on people. John was tall and broad and powerful. People knew it just looking at him. What Dean really loved about his dad was that he could be a powerhouse, but he was still gentle with his kids. Good to Sam.
"Dad!" Sam shot out of his classroom, his teacher's protests left behind in his wake. John laughed, hauling Sam into his arms.
"You're way too big for this, y'know," John told him.
"But as long as I keep doing it, so will you," Sam pointed out, pushing away so that John would put him down. "Dean!" he slammed into his brother, hugging him tight.
"C'mon Sam, you're embarrassing me," Dean whined, his face going a little pink. Lily giggled helplessly at him, Pete doing his best to play the stoic guy friend and let Dean keep his dignity. John turned his attention to Dean's friends. He'd never really had time to look at or talk to them.
"You never told me Lily was pretty," he said eyeing his son, who turned a funny splotchy color, and Lily went pink under her brown skin. He'd sort of half noticed that Pete was black, and was proud of his son for not caring about things like that. A lot of people still did. John had grown up with those prejudices, especially in the south, and he liked to think that he was a forward thinking man, but sometimes it was hard to shake that mindset. He was proud that Dean seemed entirely ignorant there was a mindset. They skirted around the janitor on the way out, careful not to step in the places he'd just mopped. John glanced at him, wondering if he knew the man, before shaking his head and moving ahead of the group to hold he door.
"Thanks Dad, but I got it," Dean tried to hold it for him.
"No, go'n with your friends," he said, giving his boy a light shove. "Get ahold of Sam before he does something stupid," John added, watching how oblivious the boy was to his surroundings. Too busy telling Dean's friends all about his day, and how smart he was. Kid couldn't help it. He let the door go once they were all through, responding to polite 'thank you's with a casual 'no problem' before taking the lead again. "You kids think I'm actually gonna let you ride home in my car?"
"The Impala?" Pete perked up. John laughed, eyeing his son. Kid had claimed bragging rights on the car, it seemed. Chuckling to himself, he nodded.
"Yeah, the Impala," he grinned. Didn't take him too long to get them all to the car.
"Shotgun!" Sam called right before Dean could open his mouth.
"You're too little to sit up in the front, and you know it! There're rules, Sam," Dean scolded irritably.
"Well Dad lets me!"
"It's not safe, Sam!"
"Lily, is it? Why don't you sit up front with me? Stuff all those idiots in the back. Well, sorry Pete didn't mean you were one, too. You think you can keep 'em from killing each other?" Then John turned and pulled Sam aside. "Don't fight with your brother today, okay? He's got friends, and they put up with you, which a lot of older kids won't do, and you know what's happening tomorrow, so just be nice." Catching Sam's eye, "it won't kill you." Then he pulled Sam to him in a hug, and let him go to crawl into the car.
"I want a window seat", he announced, then looked at his brother. "Dean, sit next to me," he asked. John recognized that look, no way was Dean going to be able to refuse.
"I hate sitting in the middle," he grumbled, crawling in through the other door so that he would be next to Sam, Pete slid in behind and closing the door almost reverently.
Clearly he'd heard Dean's stories about how the car had a soul, or something. Kept them all safe and alive when they traveled. Or forgot to lock the doors. So far no one had discovered their weapons cache in the trunk, and there had been times John thought that it was unavoidable. That and the car never seemed to really break down. It always seemed okay. The car ride was short, of course the kids normally walked home. Trouping up the stairs to their apartment, they first stopped when Pete stopped on his floor to dump his bags, claiming he didn't have any homework. Lily's floor was above theirs, so she would just hold onto her bag.
"Dean, you tell them yet?"
"Tell us what?" came Lily's instant reply. Dean was generally good at hiding things. Like that when he'd first come to school the reason he wouldn't go swimming with them was a wall of bruises on his abdomen. In gym when he'd raised his arms to do chin-ups she'd seen.
"I," Dean flushed and glared angrily at his father.
"Guess not, told you to tell them days ago, when we first found out." John frowned a little at his son, generally Dean was a good kid, obedient. Nothing like this usually happened. Then again, it'd been a long time since he'd had friends. Probably didn't know how they would react.
"I need you guys to pick up my homework for the next couple of days. Tomorrow and then Monday and Tuesday. If you could. I mean….and then…uh," he ran a hand through his hair, letting the movement bring his hand to the back of his neck. "If on Friday you could pick Sam up…I know it's a lot to ask and all that, I just…I won't be able to, and Dad has to work. Today is just special, and…"
"Why're you gonna miss school?" Pete asked.
"I…" he forced a little laugh. "Um, surgery. It's seriously nothing big. It turns out that I have a few really small tears in some organs…from a fall." His eyes met Lily's. "You remember when you saw my stomach that one time?" she nodded. "The doctors said I was fine, hadn't even fractured a rib when I fell. They….it was a small clinic, not well equipped. So, when I…my dad figured I was sick, and dragged me in to the local hospital here. They'll fix it in a couple hours at the most, and I'll be home." He smiled weakly, clearly terrified.
"Oh. No big, we like Sam, don't we?" Lily asked Pete idly.
"Sure, we can keep an eye on him."
Lily looked at Dean. "It's tomorrow? You know what time? Maybe if school's out, or during lunch, depending, I could come by say hi or something."
"It should…I should be done right before lunch starts. Dad has enough time off work to take me home," Dean added.
"Well I'll come by. Make sure you're okay, then I can go wait for Sam. And Pete and I will make sure he gets home to drive you crazy all in one piece." Dean chuckled, face slightly pale.
"We should have a huge dinner," Pete said. Considering he knew Dean liked food.
"Speaking of food, Dean you know you can't eat tomorrow, and second of all, thanks for the breakfast. It was good. How'd you know your mother used to add almond?"
"It tasted wrong. So I just went through all the stuff I could find that might go in pancakes until I found what smelled familiar. I thought it was just vanilla at first, but there was something missing." John shook his head with a slight smile. Dean turned slightly defensive, and John held up a hand.
"Just wasn't expecting it this morning. Sam really liked it," it had honestly brought tears to his eyes, and he'd half expected his wife to walk in smiling and chiding him for being an idiot. But the moment had passed, and he'd eaten his breakfast, telling Sam not to use so much syrup, he didn't need it anyway. Kid had a sweet tooth like no other.
"You're welcome," he muttered, face red. Pete elbowed him lightly, and Lily bumped his shoulder as she stood up. They were good kids. Real good kids.
After that first day when he'd gotten a call at work, he'd figured they'd had to move on again, but it looked like things were going to be okay. Dean had settled down. Sam always did fine, and even when he couldn't make friends, he concentrated so hard on his school work it didn't matter. Dean didn't do that, for whatever reason, he wouldn't let himself.
John could remember a conversation where his son had claimed they were all freaks, and the sooner people realized it, the better. Didn't seem to realize how badly it had cut his father to hear that. They weren't freaks. But he hadn't realized he was destroying his family, not like that.
"Why don't you kids stay here for dinner?"
"Dad, you can't cook," Dean pointed out. "I remember you trying to make meatloaf, that ended horribly. It came to life and walked away," Dean grinned, barely avoiding the pillow his father threw at him from across the room. They'd all ended up watching television, whatever Sam wanted, and Sam had curled up between Dean and Lily on the couch, Pete was next to Dean, and John was in the chair adjacent to the couch.
"No, but you cook just fine. Lily you could invite your mother on up here. I'm sure it gets boring cooking all the time," John offered.
"Yeah, Dad's right, I cook great," he grinned.
"So why don't you ever bring a lunch?"
"Too lazy," Pete said, looking at Dean who nodded sagely. Lily laughed.
"He makes a lunch for Sam, makes sure I have something to eat, makes breakfast, and can't be bothered with himself. He at least ate some of the pancakes he made this morning, right?" Dean flushed a dark red.
Lily nodded, "he did. He eats lunch, too. We all potluck it, basically."
"Still in the room, here," Dean said.
Lily ruffled his hair. "We know, but you're such a good pet we can just forget about you at times," she told him, patting his head once, twice, then three times.
Sam giggled at Dean's expression, reaching out to do the same before Dean caught his wrist, not hurting him but twisting his arm behind his back.
"I'm scared of her, but not you," he told Sam, before letting him go. Sam chuckled, snuggling up against Dean's chest.
The prospect of surgery scared Sam more than Dean. He had never heard their father tell him to take care of his brother before. It was always "Dean, you take care of Sam for me." Never ever "Sam, I'm going to need you to take care of Dean while I'm not around, okay? Can you do that?"
"Darn right you're scared of me."
"Lily, Dean spends a lot of time with you'n your mom, right?"
"And Pete and Sam."
"Well, I just have a favor to ask is all," John mumbled uncomfortably. "I'm going to be working it's not like I can't take a lot of time off…"
"My mom can take care of Dean'n Sam. It's fine. I babysit him all through the school day anyway," she flipped her hair over her shoulder, laughing at Dean's abused expression. She lightly gripped his hand. "My mom thinks he's great, she won't mind, I'm guessing you don't want Sam to be alone?" Dean, she figured, would be a zombie for a few days on the post-surgery medication. Especially if he was asking them to pick Sam up for him. He never let anyone else even come close to taking care of Sam. "What time you want my mom here for dinner?"
"Dean?"
"I can have dinner ready by five," he shrugged. "I sound like some housewife."
"You're not pretty enough to be a housewife," Pete said helpfully, "Right Sam?" Sam just laughed. It was good that Dean's friends were nice to Sam, considering Dean had started out with some friends he had quickly ditched when they treated Sam like a stupid and annoying little kid.
Dean protected Sam with every fiber of his being, and wouldn't tolerate anyone giving Sam a hard time. Something John was incredibly proud of Dean for. At nine Dean had pointed out that Sam was the most important person in his life, and if he had friends who couldn't see that, then they weren't really friends of his, then were they? Not something John expected but Dean had been an adult for years now. Seeing him kick back and relax around his peers was such a balm to John's world-weary heart.
Dean had dinner ready when he said he would, Pete couldn't stay and claimed he needed to get some chores done before his parents returned and decided to 'can his ass.'
Lily's mother was tall with thick strawberry blonde hair and light blue eyes. John had been expecting a woman who shared dark hair and eyes with her daughter. Not to mention he hadn't been expecting Lily's mother to have porcelain white skin. She laughed at his expression, introducing herself as Emily Brown, and telling him without any preamble that her husband had been the Native American, and only half at that, his mother having been Navajo. John flushed, looking at Dean who was laughing.
"You got off easy, the first thing she told me was that she was 'hip and all that jazz' which is so the un-hippest thing I have ever heard, because no one says 'hip' anymore," he laughed. John looked at him, then saw Emily laughing, teasing Dean right back about how he wouldn't know 'hip' if it bit him on the nose.
He knew Dean had learned his more colorful vocabulary from other hunters, and John figured, himself. 'Bitch' was definitely something the boy had learned from his father. Most people didn't swear around Sam with his large eyes and curious expression, not to mention the mop of hair. In fact a lot of hunters started out 'son of a ….GUN' or a lot of times 'what a b—jerk!' Sam's favorite 'bad word' had become 'jerk.'
"So who cooked this, because from what Dean tells me, it wasn't you," she laughed.
Dean flushed, guilt flashing across his face, looking up in shock when John started laughing, "No, it wasn't me. I burn soup."
"Actually, you light it on fire," Sam clarified helpfully, and Dean choked on his water. Lily thumped him on the back, unable to help the laughter that bubbled up in her throat and escaped her lips. Mrs. Brown covered her mouth with a napkin to hide her smile.
"Dean made this. From scratch. I think the idea of following a recipe scares him," John laughed. "He has a real problem with instructions and authority figures, don't you?" he joked.
"I heard about your first day," Mrs. Brown told Dean, watching him squirm in his chair. "But it seems to me like you have two fine sons. Then again, according to my daughter my judgment is failing me in my old age."
"You're not old," Dean said, giving Lily a slight glare. She just laughed, shaking her head at him.
"My mom and I are best friends, it's cool," she told him. He always seemed shocked at how casual Lily was with her mother. She had assumed John was like a military despot the way Dean behaved. Instead, John Winchester seemed casual and relaxed, and his sons clearly loved him. They were plenty respectful, though, clearly the sons while he was the father.
"I have a favor to ask," John cleared his throat.
"Shoot," Emily said calmly, gaze level.
"I…I work, a lot, and sometimes I get home late. And Dean…I'm guessing Lily would have told you he's…" John hated asking for favors, as he ran a hand through his thick unruly hair, he sighed.
"Just send Dean over to my place, Lily and I can watch out for him and Sam. Make sure he eats. And I can work from home just as easily with him on the couch as I can with him not there, so, sure. It's no trouble at all, he's a sweet kid."
Dean turned a brilliant crimson at Mrs. Brown's words, and she hid her face again, trying not to laugh at him. He really was a sweetie. Especially with Sam. She had no problems letting him chill on the couch, and it wouldn't be hard to remember when he needed whatever medication they gave him, because he'd start to wake up when it was time. She'd torn her rotator cuff, and she knew how it worked. She'd slept through the first day, up until it started to hurt, which meant it had been four to six hours, and was time for another dose.
"Thanks," John said, scrubbing at his beard.
"I can handle myself, here," Dean said, clearly not expecting his father to ask someone to take care of him.
"It's just for a day, Dean. Besides, you know Sam'll try and cook something and burn the whole complex down," he pointed out. A faint smile twisted Dean's lips.
"I guess, but…really, I'd…"
"It's fine, you can keep me company. And I'll just turn up the tunes, you said you liked AC/DC and Zeppelin, you weren't lying were you?" she asked.
"No way!"
"Actually he's a bit of a Manilow fan," John grinned.
"Am not!" Dean gaped in horror. "Am not am not!" He looked at Sam, pleadingly.
"What's Manilow?" Sam asked, fairly effectively proving Dean had no interest in the singer. Because Sam tried very hard to be like Dean, and he knew all his brother's music. "Dean, you don't like Manilow, what's Manilow?"
"Garbage, it's okay Sammy, forget it. You don't wanna know."
"Deeaaan!"
It's just crap, okay Sammy?"
"Fine, whatever," Sam muttered sullenly.
"Sorry Sam, just nervous, okay?" he mumbled in an undertone.
"Yeah, me too," Sam mumbled, moving so he was on the edge of his chair and as close to Dean as possible. Dean ruffled his hair gently.
"So what time is the surgery over?" Emily asked John.
"He's supposed to go in around nine-thirty, and it's not supposed to be long, they said an hour and a half to two hours at the most," John looked uncomfortably at Dean, remembering the hunt.
Damn thing had thrown his boy pretty far, saw him tumble out of view off a sharp drop. Pretty damn pokey rock had stopped Dean's descent about twenty maybe thirty feet down. Clinic doctor said everything was fine, but…Dean had been acting funny and favoring his belly, so John had pressed him for answers. He hadn't been feeling good and his stomach hurt. John took him to a hospital only to find out there was a little internal damage after all. In truth, he'd been livid, but for Dean's sake, he'd kept his temper in check.
The evening passed comfortably, and Lily told Dean that she'd come see him during their lunch period. He smiled a little, and Lily and her mother left.
The kitchen got cleaned up, Dean did his homework, looked over Sam's –immaculate and perfect as always, and Sam got ready for bed, and he got to read for half an hour before lights out. Dean watched television for a full hour before readying himself for bed, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep very well. Crawling into the bed next to his brother's, Dean heaved a sigh. Reaching out across the gap between their beds, he lightly smoothed Sam's hair back from his face before rolling over and curling into a ball, waiting for sleep to come.
reviews please? they feed the muse that died in chapter five...