First off, sorry this wasn't up yesterday, but I live on the East coast of the US where Tropical Storm/Hurricane (I heard it called both so now I'm not sure which it technically was) Irene hit. We had some minor flooding and multiple power outs so the post is today instead.

I have to go back to school starting this afternoon so I'm kinda bummed. But nothing cheers me up like a review, so please, if you will! On that note, I should be able to post Wednesday, but it'll be later at night (or morning for some of you I suppose depending on where you are) because of school.

Beta: Little Miss Artist
Warnings: See chapter 1
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Word Count: 2200
Chapter: 6/21
Next Update: Wednesday

Textus

Chapter 6: All That I'm Living For

After spending a good half hour crying in the shower, Sam had pulled himself together and started on his homework.

Just as he was finishing, the door opened and Dean stepped in. Sam continued on his geometry homework without looking up.

He hadn't decided how he felt towards Dean at the moment. Angry and quite betrayed, obviously. But he was also relieved that Dean was safe and was starting to understand and forgive Dean for forgetting. It happened to everyone. Perhaps it was a tad bit careless to not put more effort into remembering something like that, but it happened. He was just blowing it out of proportion.

"Sam?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yes?" Sam replied tersely without looking up.

"I'm sorry-" Dean started, but Sam cut him off.

"It's fine," he said curtly. His tone suggested it most certainly was not fine, but at the same time had a note of finality in it.

Sam knew Dean wasn't finished, but he wasn't yet ready to listen. He shut his geometry book forcefully and walked into the living room. He turned off the TV and flopped down on the couch, effectively ending their conversation. He heard Dean sigh before going to shower to wash away the sweat and grease of a hard day at the garage.

Sam briefly wondered if Dean ever cried in the shower.

Late that night, around ten, there was a soft knock on Sam's bedroom door.

"Sammy? You up?" Dean asked softly. Sam knew what was coming. For the entire evening, Sam had intentionally avoided Dean, trying to sort out his own feelings before sorting out Dean's. But now, Dean all but had him cornered. There was no excuse Sam could make to leave the room and nothing he could do to busy himself.

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. No point in lying, Dean would know he was faking sleep anyway.

Dean came in, softly shutting the door behind him, and sat down on the end of Sam's bed. Even though it was night, the alarm clock on Sam's bedside table gave out a blue light in its immediate vicinity. It casted an eerie pale blue glow over Dean's face and probably created strange shadows on Sam's since he was facing away from it.

"Sammy, I'm sorry, I really am. It just slipped my mind. I was having a busy day and it just…"

"I know," Sam replied quietly.

"I should have left myself a note or something-"

"Yeah," Sam said bluntly, still not looking Dean in the eye.

"Sam, you…I…you're my little brother and…" Dean wasn't really making any sense, but Sam still understood. They always understood each other, even when words failed.

"I know." And he did. He got it. It was sort of like saying 'don't take it personally' though that sounded weird in the current situation. Basically, Sam hadn't slipped Dean's mind because he was less important or anything, it'd just been a rough day. And Sam still meant the world to Dean and Dean still meant to world to Sam. It was over and forgiven.

Dean smiled, apparently understanding Sam's small words just as much as Sam understood Dean's babbling.

"I'm sorry I lost your shoes," Sam added quietly.

Dean smirked. "Didn't fit anyway." Sam was half tempted to spill his guts to Dean about everything, but he refrained. He was still adamant about handling the bullies himself.

"Do you want me to stay?" Dean asked, but he fooled neither of them. He was really saying he wanted to stay, but was too manly to admit it, so settled on pretending it was Sam who really wanted him there. Not that Sam minded in the slightest.

"Sure," Sam said, smiling slightly and finally meeting Dean's eyes. Dean laid down next to him and stretched his arm around Sam's shoulders, pulling him close.

"It's you and me against the world, kid."

"Sam!" Mrs. Prince called as Sam was about to exit the art classroom. It was a large classroom with bright walls each colored differently. Student artwork was on the walls and hang from the ceiling. There were tables around the room, each seating four tables. For once, Sam was glad he was the new kid to the class because, in classes where there wasn't assigned seating, he would end up sitting alone if he'd picked his seat when everyone else had. But being last to enter, he could only take the last available seat.

"Yes?" he asked, turning back.

"This may have only been your first art class here, but I certainly get the feeling you really like to draw," she said gesturing to Sam's math folder which was covered in doodles. It didn't surprise him she'd noticed as he was the only one who didn't seem to think the class was a joke. And he was the only one with any semblance of talent.

"Yea, ma'am," Sam said with a small smile.

Ever since Dean had talked to him last night, Sam was feeling much better. It was nice to finally have someone in his corner.

"Well," she reached into her own tote bag and pulled out a bright orange flyer which she handed to Sam. "there's an art show on the 25th here at the high school if you're interested. Students from any school in the school district are allowed to contribute art. It can be any medium you want. There are a few requirements which can all be found on the flyer. The theme is Best Memories so you have to somehow represent your best memory. I really hope you can make it!" She said cheerfully.

Sam plastered on a smile and thanked her when what he really wanted to do was cry. The 25th? If all went according to plan, the Winchesteres would be leaving town on the 24th – the full moon being the night of the 23rd. And an art show wasn't exactly something John would stick around for. Not to mention Sam would have to reveal his secret hobby to them.

Sam almost snorted as he realized something. Sam was a bullied artist who didn't like hunting and loved school. Wasn't he just the picture perfect Winchester?

Sam went to deposit the flyer in the first recycling bin he saw, not wanting to be reminded of what he was going to miss, but stopped himself. Maybe something would go wrong on the hunt and they'd have to stay longer. Or maybe there was another hunt nearby and Dean and Sam would be allowed to stay. Then he could simply make up some excuse about a school fundraiser or what not and come to the art show. It was only one day, so it wasn't like he was asking for a miracle or anything.

Instead of recycling the orange paper, he slipped it into his math folder and made a mental note to put it in the front of his sketchpad.

For once it wasn't raining as Sam walked home. It wasn't exactly sunny and it did look like it could pour at any second, but at that moment, it was fine.

As Sam walked, he thought back to the flyer. Best Memory? What was Sam's best memory? Sure there were many 'chick-flick moments' between Sam and Dean that were good, but none of them seemed like the best. He could draw the amulet, but that was more than just a good memory. That was also the sadness that John had missed another Christmas and the resignation of Sam finally deciding that John would never really be there; that it would always just be Dean and him.

"It's you and me against the world, Kid." Dean's words echoed over and over in his head. All the best memories had probably happened while his mom had been alive. But he didn't remember any of that. A wave of depression crashed over Sam. Whenever he thought about it, he couldn't help but feel that maybe it was his fault Mary had died. After all, she was murdered shortly after his birth in his nursery. It was just too much to be a coincidence. If it wasn't for him, Mary would still be living and Dean would have both his parents and John would have the love of his life. They'd have so many good memories they wouldn't be able to decide which was the best.

As he turned onto a small side street, Sam was pulled from his quickly spiraling thoughts by the sight of his least favorite person.

Mike.

What was he supposed to do? They were ahead of him. He'd have to essentially walk right into them or turn back and seem a coward.

Sam straightened his back and walked with purpose up to them.

"Do you need something?" he asked curtly, looking up to meet Mike's steely grey eyes. They were completely blocking his path.

"I need a couple bucks," he said casually.

Money? Sam almost laughed. It was so clichéd – the bully stealing lunch money from younger and smaller kids.

"Sorry, I'm fresh out." It was a lie. Dean always insisted that he had some money on him just in case something went wrong. You never know when you might need a few dollars to get yourself out of a tight jam.

"Well, I don't believe you," Mike said while taking a step closer. The other two goons both took a step closer like they were dogs on a leash.

It wasn't until the guy on the left cracked his knuckles did Sam come to the realization that he'd have to fight. No way in hell was he handing over money. And if he wanted to at least have a chance at gaining the upper hand, he'd have to try to get it down to two very quickly.

In a one quick movement, Sam dropped his bag to the ground and delivered a painful punch to Mike's stomach. He doubled over slightly and before the other two could reach him, Sam threw a punch to the side of Mike's face, successfully splitting his cheek open. Mike dropped to the ground for a second, letting the other two take over.

The one on the left, whom Sam had dubbed Blondie due to his blonde hair, lunged for him. Sam dodged his punch and threw one of his own which was also dodged. Stubble – so named because of the dark stubble along his chin – jumped into the fray.

But there was a difference in how they fought. They fought in full offense, with the intention of degrading and preying upon someone they deemed weaker. But Sam fought only in defense, without the intention of causing pain.

Stubble and Blondie both grabbed onto one of his arms and yanked them behind his back. Mike picked himself up and dusted himself off.

"Well that was stupid of you," he said as he approached Sam. Out of nowhere he delivered two strong punches to Sam's gut causing him to bend over slightly. A hand wrapped itself tightly in his hair and yanked Sam's head back. "Listen here, we don't like to be messed with and those who do, pay, understood?" he hissed.

Sam stomped as hard as he could on Stubble's foot. When his arm was instantly released, he yanked it forward, hitting Mike again. Someone, most likely Blondie, threw a punch at his face. It hit Sam on the side of his nose, thankfully not breaking it. It did however throw him off balance. Aided by another punch to the gut, Sam went down. Sam's wrist gave a fierce throb as he landed on it. It didn't seem broken, but it certainly hurt.

A foot shot out of nowhere and crashed into his stomach.

Sam was pretty sure he heard a rib snap.

Another foot shot out and connected with Sam's rib cage, though this time it didn't seem to break anything.

Suddenly there were sirens sounding and lights flashing. Two police cars were coming, maybe not for them, but one of them would most likely stop if whoever it was saw three teens beating the shit out of someone.

"Aw, shit man, let's get out of here!" Stubble yelled.

Sam thanked his lucky stars as they tore off down the street.

Instead of getting up and starting the long, now painful, walk home, he just slid over onto the grassy side of the sidewalk and flopped down. He lay there, arms and legs spread out to the sides, and just stared at up the stormy sky.

He felt rather lucky, considering. He had gotten a few good punches in on Mike and as for his own injuries, they weren't nearly as bad as they could have been. A sprained wrist maybe, as well as one cracked rib. His nose was hurting and there'd no doubt be a bruise there soon. Sam was also pretty sure he could feel some blood trickling out of it, but he didn't really care right then.

A few small drops of crystal clear water fell from the sky and landed on Sam's face.

Great, now it was raining too.

TBC…

Review Replies

supernaturalrenegade: I know what you mean about your mind playing tricks on you. It's like when you're having a bad day and then everything, no matter how small, seems like something horrible. I'm all good now – thanks for asking.

1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG: I know! I hate teachers like that who take advantage of the power they have. What did you think of Dean's apology? Dean will eventually come to his senses and get back to the big brother we all love so dearly. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately for us Limp Sam people) he might not realize something's wrong until Sam has suffered more. Speaking of the stick figure in Bedtime Stories and the tree you mentioned – that's why I decided that Sam could only draw from memory or sight, not just conjuring up something from imagination. Lucky for Sam Mike and his goons aren't in art class, but I can't say that he escaped trouble on that front.

Sparkiebunny: I'm guess I'm just good at writing teenage Sam angst because it's one of my favorites :) Personally I think it's easy to write because a lot of teenagers can identify with it on some level, but there's also the added elements of being a hunter to keep it interesting. But now Sammy's got someone in his corner (at least for now ;)

Gord and V: Glad you enjoyed the dreams, I'm never sure about them. You're right in thinking that you'll just have to wait and see!

judyann: Did Dean's apology live up to what you were expecting? Nope, Sam never has it easy when we fangirls get a hand on him and it's only gonna get worse. ;)

casammy: that's just the awesomeness between Sam and Dean I suppose. They both have faith in each other to always be there to watch their back even if they're not getting along. Dean really is everything to Sam, father and brother. Like you said, I'm trying to sink Sam into his own little hole of insecurity. Evil? Maybe but that's just what this story's about. Thanks for the review (especially such a wonderful and long one!)

winchestersunited: Woo! In character! The greatest achievement a fanfic writer can accomplish! Teen Sam is easy to understand because all teenagers identify with his problems but it's still an interesting read because of the added elements of hunting and such. I agree completely, a lot of people seem to think Sam had it so easy because of Dean, but I don't think that's how it was at all. Thanks for such an insightful review!

LeighAnnWallace, caz21, Colby's girl, primadonna cat (glad you though it made sense in the circumstance) sarah: thanks for reviewing, I adore them all, short or long!