A/N: I sat down to write this one and my muse took it in a completely different direction. I'm still not quite sure how I feel about it...but it's the next logical step in the process. More importantly, it's the bridge to Chapter 3 where (in my opinion) the real fun starts!

Many thanks to my good friend stephaniew for her unending support...

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Chapter 2: Amy

Sam Winchester is 9 years old. He was thrilled when he'd gotten the invitation to Tim Simpson's birthday party, but as he watches Dean pull away from the curb, his stomach flip-flops. He isn't normal. He isn't like the other kids. He doesn't fit in. This is a mistake. A big mistake.

He wishes he was more like his brother - cool and confident. But he isn't. He's shy and quiet. Sometimes he gets teased and bullied. Well, at least until Dean finds out about it and then it stops. He wishes he could stop it on his own. That he didn't need to rely on Dean's protection.

The clarity of the error truly comes into focus when they follow Tim down to the basement. The birthday boy directs everyone to sit in a circle - boy, girl, boy, girl.

Sam knows this won't end well - he can feel it in his toes - but he sits anyway. He can feel the cool tile of the floor through his worn jeans. He rubs sweaty palms over his thighs and remains silent.

Jamie Newman from his math class sits to his left, her knee brushing his as she sits indian style beside him. She smiles shyly at him.

On his right, Chrissy Jenkins pulls modestly at her skirt. She tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and raises her nose in the air snootily. The action causes Sam to shake his head. He's unbothered. He's used to her behavior and has come to expect it.

There are eight of them total - four boys and four girls - and Sam gulps audibly as Tim places an empty Coke bottle on the floor in the middle of the circle. "What's the matter, Winchester?" he teases. "You a puss? You scared to kiss a girl?"

"No," Sam replies, trying to sound grown up. "Why would I be afraid?"

"Just checkin'," Tim answers. "Wouldn't wanna have to call your mommy to come get you." The barb stings, hitting exactly where it's meant to, but Sam just smiles. "I'd make it ladies choice," he continues, "But seein' as it's my birthday, I get the first spin."

Sam watches the bottle as it spins. The red label is a blur as the heavy green glass moves quickly at first, then slows until it stops on Jamie.

"Woo-hoo!" Tim hollers, rubbing his hands together. "Jackpot!'

Sam watches in disgust as boy leans across the group and plants one firmly on Jamie's lips. He sees her flinch and wishes he could do something, wonders if he should say something.

Tim sits back on his heels as if contemplating the universe. He rubs his chin. "Do we give the girls a spin next or..." he says looking at his guests. His eyes settle on Amy and he smirks.

Amy Reynolds was a big boned girl. Her hair always looked like it needed a good washing and her clothes were always just this side of dingy. They weren't dirty, mind you, just faded and old. They were probably hand-me-downs from a sister or cousin who'd outgrown them.

It dawns on him that Amy fits in even less with this crowd than he does. Sam's eyes fall back to the bottle as it spins slower and slower. He holds his breath, silently willing it to go just slightly further, but it stops. It stops and he doesn't want Amy to feel bad, so he smiles.

He smiles and she pounces on him, knocking him to the floor. She's on top of him. Her mouth is firm, her lips unyeilding as she presses them to his. She tastes like pizza as she thrusts her tongue stiffly between his lips.

He feels like he's suffocating and struggles against her weight until he finally manages to push her off. Push her off and run. Up the stairs, out the Simpson's front door and two blocks away before he stops and leans against a tree.

If that's what kissing's like, he's not sure he wants to be kissed again for as long as he lives. And it was gonna be a while before he'd be able to eat pizza again either...