My head is killing me so I don't have anything to say other than thanks to all of you awesome readers and please REVIEW (they make me feel better)

Beta: Little Miss Artist
Warnings: See chapter 1
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Word Count: 2300
Chapter: 5/21
Next Update: Hopefully Sunday, but maybe Monday

Textus

Chapter 5: All The Woe

"Sam! Sam!" someone shouted.

"Mmm, what?" Sam asked blearily. "Dean, stop shaking me, 'm awake already," Sam said while he tried to get his sleepy eyes to focus on Dean.

"If you're awake, then get up," Dean said.

"Wha-?" Sam asked, still not knowing what was going on.

"The alarms, Sam! You forgot to set them! You're just lucky I woke up in time," Dean snapped. Sam, not knowing what to say, sat up slowly, running a hand through his messy hair.

"Sorry, Dean, I fell asleep on the couch last night and didn't think about it when I came to bed later," Sam said apologetically. Dean wasn't buying it.

"I don't really care how it happened, Sam, just don't let it happen again," Dean sighed before exiting. Sam turned and slowly began to dress. Was it really impossible for Dean and him to get along? It seemed that since arriving at the new town, they'd done nothing but go at each other's throats.

"Hurry it up, Sam!" Dean shouted from the kitchen. Sam double-timed it down the hallway and into the kitchen where Dean was standing, tapping his foot impatiently.

Sam cast a wary eye over at his shoes. They had holes along the side and the bottom was so worn it provided no comfort at all. But if he wanted to avoid another round of questioning about Dean's shoes, he'd have to suck it up, so on they went.

The ride to school was absolutely silent. Not a word from either brother, neither knowing who should start. Who had more to apologize for? Sam, probably, but still, Dean had overacted just a bit to the shoes and that morning. After all, it was a mistake. He hadn't intentionally not set the alarm. And Sam was going to be just as late to school as Dean was to work.

The black car pulled up outside the school entrance, thankfully not late. As Sam stepped out of the car, he cast a wary eye up to the gloomy looking sky. It looked like rain. Sam really didn't want to walk home in the rain again.

"Um, Dean?" Sam asked tentatively before Dean had a chance to pull from the curb.

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind giving me a ride home?" Sam's eyes flicked up the gloomy sky to show his reasoning. Dean was mad, true, but first and foremost, he was Sam's big brother. So, when Sam pulled out the puppy-dog eyes, he caved exactly as Sam had hoped.

"Sure, but I'll have to work a bit late afterwards," Dean replied, before pulling away.

"Thanks," Sam said, even though Dean was gone. Dean was saving Sam from more than he knew.

Sam hurried down the hall. If he was fast enough, he'd make it.

Suddenly a huge hand came down on his shoulder and forcefully spun him around, nearly knocking him over.

"Hey," Mike said, grinning sadistically.

"What do you want?" Sam couldn't help but ask exasperatedly. What was it about him that made him such a fun target to these damn people?

Sam was pretty sure he was about to get a fist sandwich.

Out of nowhere, a teacher suddenly called "Let's be getting to class, boys!" Mike and his idiot crew of two were forced, under the strict gaze of a teacher, to leave and head to their own class. Sam thanked whoever was apparently looking out for him today.

Sam barely made it into the classroom before the bell rang, earning a raised eyebrow from Mr. Newman.

"Alright, every one hand me your homework," Mr. Newman said. He started going up and down the aisles taking papers from students.

Sam grabbed his History binder and flipped to the homework section.

Oh, crap.

It was sitting on the floor in his room. After Dean left last night, Sam had been antsy and eager to crank the TV up and fill the silent house with noise. In his haste, the paper had fallen to the ground. He'd told himself he'd grab it in the morning, but he'd been in such a hurry he hadn't thought about it.

Sam mentally berated himself as Mr. Newman came up to him.

"Paper?" he asked when Sam didn't immediately produce the document.

"I left it at home," Sam said quietly. "I can bring it to you tomorrow," he added hopefully.

"Sorry, Sam, but in my class it's on time or never. I don't accept any late documents." And just like that he moved on to the next person. Sam wanted to leap to his feet and curse the stupid man enough to make wallpaper curl.

Instead, he jerked his head back down and dug his nails into his palm painfully.

If he'd just set the stupid alarms none of this would have happened. But then, Sam reminded himself, if he was going to blame the alarm, or lack of, then he could keep going back. He could blame Dean for leaving him and making him forget. Or he could blame John for leaving so sudden and pissing them both off further. Or he could go all the way back and blame Mike for taking the goddamn shoes. But in truth, it was just a mistake. He had forgotten to grab the paper, nothing more. He'd been careless to leave it there, but that's just how things were.

As Sam was leaving lunch, yet another one spent alone, a voice called behind him.

"Sam!" He turned to see Mrs. Chambers jogging to catch up to him.

"Hi," Sam said simply as she arrived next to him.

"Here," she said handing him a piece of paper. "Mrs. Prince has agreed to take you into her art class."

"That was fast," Sam couldn't help but say. She smiled at his bluntness.

"Yes, well, you know," she said with a shrug. "Anyway, you have it tomorrow instead of study hall. That's," she tapped the paper, "the room number and times."

"Okay," Sam said somewhat stupidly. She turned and started to leave just as Sam came to his senses.

"Thank you!" he called after her. She flashed him a quick grin before continuing down the hall.

The rest of the daze passed in a bit of a blur for Sam. His mood kept switching. One minute he was pissed about the stupid homework and the circumstances leading up to it and the next minute he was excited for the art class.

In his second to last class it started raining hard. Sam was once again grateful for the ride. He really didn't need another day of walking home in the pouring rain. His shoes were still drying from their first day of a watery walk home, too many more and they'd fall to pieces.

Occasionally, in his last two classes, while looking out at the rain, Sam would think back to his dream. And sometimes, for the briefest moments, he'd feel it. The burning in his chest, the fuzziness in his brain. It was like he was drowning all over again. Then, for some strange reason, his thoughts would drift to the dog. He could still picture it perfectly in his mind, and he'd wonder where it was right now. Was the poor creature out in the rain? Was it even raining back in that town? Was he sitting in front of some warm fire watching the other animals outside in the rain and thinking suckers!

And then Dean. Where was he? Was he looking out into the rain, same as Sam, and thinking that he was glad he was giving his kid-brother a ride home? Or was he still pissed about the damn shoes? Had he already moved past that? Was he wondering when things had got so shitty between the two brothers? Sam sure as hell was.

The school bell rang and Sam was once again happy to leave. Maybe it's the town, Sam thought wryly as he once again realized how common it was becoming for him to want to leave.

Amongst the flood of students eager to leave, Sam walked down the entrance of the school. Only this time he went to the pick-up part instead of heading down the side walk. He watched the few unfortunate people who did have to walk home. A few of them used books to shield themselves while others just picked up their pace.

As he made his way down the line of cars, his foot splashed in a particularly large puddle. Images flashed before his brain. Mike laughing, Dean letting go, the water blurring his visions. His lungs felt like they were on fire again and he was struggling for breath.

A car horn managed to snap Sam out of his temporary panic attack. He got a strange look from the nearest kid and Sam attempted to slow his breathing. I'm okay, he assured himself. I'm on dry land and I'm not drowning. Over and over his whispered it to himself.

After going up and down the line of cars twice, Sam suddenly realized something.

Dean wasn't there.

But he'd be there, he was just running late, Sam told himself.

But ten minutes later, Dean still wasn't there.

Sam viciously wished he had a cell phone, but for Winchesters, that privilege wasn't given until one turned sixteen due to the costliness of a cell phone.

Had Dean actually forgotten him? Had it not been important enough to Dean to take the effort to make a note, mental or otherwise, to remember to pick him up?

He let go.

Sam remembered Dean letting him go in his dream. How Dean had so carelessly let him slip below the surface like he'd never meant anything?

Was he still mad about something and decided to stand Sam up? But, no…he'd agreed this morning. Dean may like to play cruel pranks on his brother, but Dean wouldn't do something like that. Safety was not taken lightly by the Winchesters and if someone didn't show within fifteen minutes of said time, it was time to start worrying. Because Sam and Dean had been raised military style. Always be on time. Being late only caused needless worry and delay. And Dean knew Sam would freak out for Dean's safety and his own if Dean didn't show after agreeing to meet him.

So either Dean was hurt or he really had forgotten.

Sam couldn't decide which seemed worse.

Feeling incredibly dejected, he walked slowly from the pick-up line over to the sidewalk to start the trek home.

The rain no longer seemed important and Sam didn't hurry to escape it. The cold didn't affect him as usual and only served to further push his gloomy mood.

But then, what if Dean really was hurt? What if he'd been in a car accident? What if he was lying somewhere, bleeding out and dying? What if he was lying there thinking about how he was supposed to pick Sam up from school and how Sam would think he'd forgotten his little brother? Sam had no doubt that it would cross Dean's mind. Even in his final moments, Dean's thoughts would be solely on his little brother.

Now feeling more panicked than upset, Sam sped up. As soon as he got back, he'd call Dean at work and check he was there.

When the house finally did come into view, Sam began to full out sprint. It didn't even occur to him that he'd been left alone by Mike and his gang for once.

Sam practically ripped the door off its hinges in his haste. He ran into the kitchen, footprints be damned, and yanked the phone of the wall. He snatched the business card of the garage where Dean worked off the fridge and punched in the number. While he waited anxiously he twisted his hands in the curly phone cord.

"Rocco's Mechanics," a dull, bored voice answered.

"Hi, can I speak to Dean…" Sam wracked his brain for a minute, "Miller! Dean Miller!"

"Can I ask why?" he sounded slightly more interest. Perhaps Sam's panicked tone made him curious.

"I'm his brother, I need to speak with him right now!"

"Is it an emergency?" What was this guy's problem? Did he want to ask what Sam wanted for Christmas as well?

"No, yes, I don't know! Can you please just put him through?"

"Sure, one sec." Sam visibly relaxed with relief. Dean was there. He wasn't lying somewhere breathing his final breaths. Then he was filled up with anger and betrayal.

Dean had forgotten!

"Hello?" Dean asked casually. It was strange to think Dean was relaxed at work while Sam was worrying out of his mind that his older brother might be dead.

Sam was half tempted just to hang up right there. Make Dean worry and see how he liked it.

"Dean?"

"Sam? You need something?" there was a bit of confusion in his voice as well as a hint of worry.

"Why didn't you pick me up?"

There was silence on the other end.

So Dean hadn't even realized he'd forgotten something. Even talking to Sam hadn't been enough to remind him. Sam had to practically spell it out for him.

"Oh, crap. I'm so sorry, Sam-" it sounded genuine, but for some reason Sam was only filled with more anger.

"Forget it, its fine," Sam said curtly before hanging up. He looked around stupidly like he'd never seen the place before. Finally snapping out of his daze, he stumbled into his room.

There on the floor, the History paper sat innocently. Sam slowly picked it up and stared at his own handwriting discussing the causes of the French Revolution.

Sam ripped the piece of paper to shreds.

TBC…

Review Replies: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!

LeighAnnWallace: Well, you're definitely right in saying it's only going to get worse. But, I suppose that's Sam for you (at least in my story!)

TinTin11: As much as I dislike when the brother's fight, I enjoyed writing that Dean scene immensely. The nightmare was actually just a last minute thing…it just seemed to make sense there.

supernaturalrenegade: Poor Sammy, stuck like that. But then again, being the Sam Sadist that I am, what do I love more than to stick Sam between a rock and a hard place? (Just occurred to me – is that an American saying only?) I've never heard of shoe wishes like that – that's so cool!

Brielle-W: No offense taken, I personally love random tidbits like that and have no doubt that one someone will wonder why there are shoes on wires and I'll be all knowledgeable and stuff :)

jayfeather63: You're right in thinking the bullying will increase, but that comes in the next chapter, so you'll have to wait a bit longer. John and Dean will find out but it may not be for quite a while. I plan on causing Sam much more misery before we come to that ;)

1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG: I completely agree, loneliness is just so awful. Any other emotion you can get over with someone else's help, but not that one. Unfortunately for Sammy, he didn't get his Dean in this chapter either.

Cartoon Cow: I guess it was a supernatural occurrence! I wonder if there's a mysterious review monster out there trying to confuse us all! Oprah huh? Let me know when's his first show is ;)

Lilithakaducky: Woo! Glad you liked Dean's reaction! I actually based Sam's shoes off my old pair of Converse, they're absolutely falling apart (then when I walk home snow comes in the holes :)

judyann: Well I bet this chapter didn't improve your feelings towards Dean any did it? Dean's just not being the big brother Sam needs at the moment. Tsk tsk. Anyway, let me know what you think of Dean now ;)

OutTonightAndForever: It's funny how different teenchester stories can be portrayed. Glad you liked John, I was worried I might be overdoing him a bit. I know what episode you're talking about but for the life of me I can't remember what it's called either. The idea of Sam being able to draw is an idea that's been sticking with me for a while and I haven't found anything else that had that so I was quite happy to finally have a story I could fit it in. I was actually kind of basing Dean's short temper of his actions towards the beginning of the second season. This is a much longer review than I normally get, but so thanks for that and taking the time to discuss specific elements.

Sparkiebunny: I know, that's one of my favorite lines too. It's one of those sweet moments where you write a line and then you're just blown away that you wrote something that sounds so good!