"Dean where is your brother?" John asked.
"He's outside playing with the other kid in the complex. They are throwing the basketball. I can see them from the window. They are fine." Ten year old Dean said alternating looking out the window and reading his math homework.
"Call him inside." Dean turned his attention from the window to his father. Suspicion written all over his small features.
"Don't argue with me son. Just go get your brother."
"I promised him that he could stay outside until dark. I told him that we would have macaroni and cheese."
"I didn't ask you the plan. Or what you promised your brother. I asked you to go get him. It is time to come in." Dean stood and started to go towards the door.
"Dad…are you going to tell him what you do?" John Winchester sighed and closed his eyes wishing that his normally obedient son would be just that right now.
"Dean, go get your brother."
"I was his age when we started target practice."
"Yes, you were. Dean, for the last time get your brother." Dean stood at the front door rigid and straight. He took one last glimpse out of the window and watched his six year old little brother playing with a basketball that was too big for him with a kid that was a little bigger than him. Dean thought of the fun he would like to have doing the same thing. He knew he couldn't, he knew what his role in life was, and he was about to play that part right now.
"No. Sammy is outside playing." John stood up and made his way to his eldest son who looked like a scared mother hen that wasn't about to let his charge be harmed even if that meant that he would be hurt in the process.
"What has gotten into you?"
"Let Sammy play. He doesn't need to know how to shoot."
"Yes he does. He needs to be prepared." John shook his head. "Why am I arguing about this with a ten year old?"
"Because you trust me enough to take care of Sammy, when you aren't here and that is a lot sir."
"Dean.."
"I screwed up in Fitchburg, but I won't do that ever again. Leave Sammy alone." Dean pleaded. "He's six, sir." Dean reminded pressing himself up against the door tighter.
"Dean Aaron Winchester!" he yelled. "Go get your brother. Get him right now." Dean stood as straight as he could, but even he knew that he wasn't big enough or strong enough to go against his father. Dean kept his bottom lip from quivering and he turned and opened the door quietly, exited and closed it behind him. He slowly made his way down the stairs and then outside. All he could think was that today Sammy was about to loose his innocence, all because he hadn't done his job and protected his little brother in Fitchburg.
"Sammy?" he yelled when he got outside.
"Dean! Show Tommy how to make a basket like you did me. I can't do it right. Please." Never being able to deny his brother, Dean nodded to the other child and the ball was thrown to him and he caught it and made the basket just like he had shown Sam the other week. As soon as the ball made contact with the concrete he put an arm on Sam's shoulder.
"Dad wants you upstairs."
"Okay. Bye Tommy I gots to go."
"You have to go, not gots to." Dean corrected. Sam nodded.
"Is the Macaroni done? Did you make it the way I like it with the extra milk?" Sam asked grabbing Dean's hand.
"No. I didn't make it yet."
'Then why does Dad want my upstairs? Are we going to go get burgers?"
"I don't think so Sammy."
"Then why does Dad want me?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know anything today."
"No I don't."
"Did you tell Dad about the hole I ripped in my pants while he was away? He'll be mad. Do you think he'll be mad?"
"I didn't tell him." Dean opened the door and let Sam enter first.
"Dad, are we going to get a burger instead of macaroni? I really want macaroni. Dean makes it with extra milk for me, and I gets to eat it with a spoon." Sam went to his dad and hugged him. John picked him up. "We learned about dinosaurs yesterday at school. Did you know they've all been dead for millions and trillions of years?"
"Have they buddy?" John looked over at Dean, Dean couldn't look at either one of them.
"Yeah, and some could swim and some were like big birds. Not like big bird on Sesame Street, but like snakes with wings."
"Dean, why don't you start making that macaroni." John said. Dean looked up shocked. "I think the young one here should get what he wants for dinner." Dean nodded.
"Tell me more about school Sammy." John encouraged. Dean had been right. Sam was too young to handle a gun. Dean had been ready at 6. Sam was not. Sam was just a kid. Sam was innocent and excited about life. Dean was an old soul who always looked like he just wanted a rest. He would not put that look into his youngest eyes. Not just yet.