Title: Step-Brothers: Blood Doesn't Tie Us

Genres: Family / Friendship / Drama

Rating: T

Summary: Sam didn't want a new mom or brother but couldn't deny his dad happiness. With drama and problems, the Winchesters must learn to get along. Sam/Dean later

Warnings: Sam/Dean, Mary/John, het pairings, slash pairings, incest, cursing, Sam/others, Dean/others, homophobia, no hunting AU, family drama, epic length

FIVE

Snow. Dean loved snow. He loved building snowmen and snow forts and snow angels. Jimmy came over at first snowfall shivering in a large parka, the hood hiding white, snow flecked hair. His boots scraped the floor and trailed snow into the kitchen where Sam and Dean had cups of hot cocoa. Dean took one look at Jimmy and offered to make him a cup too. Jimmy said sure. Sam glared sulkily into his cocoa and after Jimmy slurped the rest of his cup, the three decided to go to this hill in the neighborhood that Jimmy had said was really big and could probably be used to sled down, though he hasn't tried it before and Dean was inexperienced in sledding period.

Sam seemed to be the only one who knew what he was doing because he used to go sledding with John all the time during winter break. Once Sam confirmed the hill was indeed big enough to sled down, they went back to the house to fetch the old, rusted wagon Dean had only seen crammed in the back of the garage. It was dangerous and Dean almost chickened out at the last minute.

"What's the matter, Dean, you chicken?" Sam taunted.

Logic be damned. "No, not at all."

It was Dean's fault, because in the back of his head he knew it was a dumb thing to do but he did it anyway. Somehow Sam managed to cajole him to take a one way ticket down the steep, icy hill in a wagon with a broken handle. It was pretty suicidal and he wondered briefly if he secretly was because neither Sam nor Jimmy got in the wagon with him, even when he resorted to pleading and begging. In the end, Sam's double dog dare got to him and he 'manned' up and climbed in.

He went to ER that night for a sprained ankle. John was pissed, Sam was sorry, Jimmy was horrified and mom was half worried and half ready to burst into lecture mode. Dean was…well he knew in the future there was no way he'd give in to another of Sam's dares or double dares or even double 'dog' dares.

His name was Andy Gallagher. He wasn't new, Sam had seen him around wandering the halls with his own flock of friends from time to time, but he recently transferred to Sam's homeroom. It was Algebra 2 with Miss France, who was kind of a boring teacher. The only thing Sam thought was funny about her was her name because she was certainly not French. She even said so herself on the first day of school.

Andy thought his transfer was a mistake because he said he was supposed to be in Trig, but Miss France had taken one good, hard look at his schedule and then looked him in the eye and said, "No, nope, I don't think so. It says right here where you're supposed to be."

Sam remembered the way Andy just scowled and mumbled, "Well my teacher said I was going to be in Trig," as he passed him to the desk at the back. Of course there were a couple empty seats near Sam from when Teresa and Jake transferred out, and only one desk in the back corner. Miss France noticed and ordered Andy to pick one of the desks near Sam. Sam wasn't sure if he was grateful to her for giving him someone new to talk to or annoyed that it had to be Andy.

"So you're Sam, huh?"

Sam looked up from his book, startled. They'd been given a test earlier in class and he'd finished twenty minutes ago, one of the first few to get it done. He never noticed Andy finishing his own during the time he got out the novel he had to read for English. He gulped and nodded under Andy's intense gaze. "Yeah, yeah, and you're Andy," he said lamely, his voice low as to not draw attention to them.

Andy gave him a boyish grin that made Sam's throat feel dry. He made to grab the book from Sam's hands and Sam barely kept it out of reach, a sudden scowl taking over his shocked face. "Hey no need to be so grabby. Normal people just ask, 'can I see your book?' You'll be surprised by how people respond to politeness," Sam said.

There was a slight twinkle in Andy's eyes as his smile widened, looking at Sam in a whole new light. "Did you really just say 'grabby'? What, are you still in kindergarten?"

Sam huffed playfully. "Yeah I did say 'grabby', you got a problem with my vocabulary, Mister Trig?"

"Nah, not really, was just curious if you were aware of it."

Sam didn't realize until later that Andy was a lot like Dean.

Sam should've realized Andy and Dean wouldn't like each other; Jimmy took it a little better but ultimately sided with Dean. Sam's other friends Neil and Mike were at worst OK with the extension from the trio to include another person and at best, might've liked Andy a little better than Sam, or maybe that was just Sam's insecurity talking. Andy wasn't really a replacement for his step brother that Sam could never seem to get close to anymore. But he'd be lying to himself if he said there wasn't anything going on between him and Andy.

The closer to winter break they got, the more Sam noticed things between them changing. Like with Dean it started off little enough that Sam didn't notice at first. Like sometimes Andy would brush past him on the way to sharpen his pencil in class and that was OK, not wrong, because they sat next to each other in class and Andy always wore this black leather jacket. The air conditioner was on and of course it'd flap and brush against Sam's sweater or tee-shirt or whatever he'd been wearing that morning. But then there were more obvious things that Sam couldn't just ignore or reason himself with.

The more 'obvious' things like leaving his hand on Sam's shoulder a lot longer than was necessary as he leaned over for better view to see the latest test score, the not so accidental bumping of shoulders whenever they passed each other, the way he'd rush over to Sam in the hallway even when he was in the middle of some deep, intriguing conversation with friends. Sam was both confused and flattered by all the attention. At first at least. It became more of an endurance test as the year wore on, he'd speculate later. In the month of December however the idea that Sam could hold someone like Andy's attention was welcoming, refreshing.

Sam wasn't naïve. He knew what Andy was doing, had seen it all the time in silly drama movies that mom and dad would watch late at night, sitting on the couch and cuddling up–though dad would deny it in all hours of the day. He somehow found the courage to ask Andy up front one day, no beating around the bushes either and if he'd blushed when he made his demand it wasn't Sam's fault, it was due to his age and inexperience. Andy just smiled back and Sam wasn't sure what he'd been so embarrassed for, because they were friends, or maybe more, maybe who knew.

"We've been friends for how long now?" Andy asked seriously.

Sam shrugged, fiddling with his ruler. "Uhm since you transferred here, which was probably two weeks ago at the very least."

Andy nodded, looking thrilled with the answer and Sam felt liked he'd just answered a question worth fifty bucks. There was earnestness on his face as he said, "And I like you, Sam, I really do. I've liked you since I met you."

Sam cocked his head to the side a little surprised at the news. "You do? Like as a friend or…something more?"

They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Then the morning bell rang and students filed in. Then Andy ducked his head, a light flush on his cheeks and just laughed, like Sam just cracked the funniest joke Andy's ever heard in his life. Maybe he did. Sam only had a few seconds to follow that train of thought, to think about apologizing, that he read the signals all wrong after all, and he felt his self-confidence start to deflate but then Andy stopped to breathe and finally mumbled something so low Sam almost didn't catch it over the drone of Miss France.

"I don't know but I'd like to find out if you want to."

Sam said yes.

You never really realize what you had until it went missing. That was what Dean learned as he watched his brother lean not so subtly up against the Andy Gallagher guy. It was winter break. John was out front with the strings of blinking, Christmas colored lights and mom was out there too nagging him about the groceries again, though she claimed earlier she was just going to see if their dad needed any help. That only left Sam, Andy, Dean and Jimmy inside; Sam and Andy lounging on the couch watching some documentary on the History channel and Jimmy had wandered upstairs a little while ago fed up with waiting for Dean to snap out of his daze.

No Daniel or Madison or even Neil or Mike. Dean had attempted to call Daniel earlier but he was on some ski trip and Madison's phone kept going to voicemail. So Dean settled for awkwardly taking the other couch and half paying attention, half falling asleep to the droning narrator talking about early indentured servitude and slavery.

Dean snapped awake a couple hours later to the smell of dinner. He almost fell off the couch when he saw dark blue eyes blinking down at him. Jimmy grinned when he noticed he was finally awake, rubbing away the last remnants of sleep from his eyes.

"Ws'up, Jim?"

Jimmy looked at him with an amused grin as he helped up from the floor. "Nothing, man. Just didn't want you to miss dinner."

Dean grinned back, warmed at the concern. "We got any pie tonight, mom?" he hollered in the direction of the kitchen.

Mary's head popped through the door, a half serious scowl on her face. "Don't shout! I'm not your personal maid, hon." But her eyes lit up and Dean knew the answer before she even said it. "Grab some extra forks for everyone and help me set up the table, will you, Dean?"

Dean's grin was brilliant in the dimly lit living room.

Christmas Eve couldn't arrive any slower. Dean had been marking his calendar, counting down the days, and it felt like it was a snail's slow slither. He saw more of Andy than he wanted to. But Sam was always happier when he was here, the little freak. Well no not exactly little. Dean couldn't ignore it anymore; no matter how many times he tried to convince himself he'd just been imagining things. His little step brother was definitely not as little as the first time they'd met. He'd been doing some growing lately. And boy was it annoying, especially since it seemed Dean hasn't even started his own growth spurt. Already Sam was an inch taller than Dean. He secretly hoped Sam was done, but deep down somewhere he knew it was a vain hope.

On the day before Christmas Eve, John held a family meeting by the fireplace. Sam grabbed the only rocking chair in the room, shamelessly eating a bag half full of marshmallows. Dean didn't even know they had marshmallows until he saw it in Sam's hands. Sam didn't even bother to share. He didn't even have the decency to look guilty under one of mom's withering looks when she caught him snacking before dinner. He just left the room to throw the bag away when he was done. Dean felt sorry he didn't get to have any marshmallows before Sam ate them all.

John had a family friend coming down for New Years. He was actually coming in town for some family business that John didn't delve into details about. By the looks John and mom shared, Dean knew it was one of those 'grown up' things, the things that if you ever pester adults about they'd just respond with that same, rehearsed, 'you'll understand when your older' shit. The only useful information they got from the meeting was that his name was Robert Singer, though dad called him Bobby.

Oh and that he liked to fish. Christmas Eve itself was a very boring day. Andy was back again, apparently not knowing the fact that holidays were usually meant to be spent as a family, and Andy was in no way family. Dean was inwardly grateful when Jimmy answered the door. He was invited inside. He'd never been inside Jimmy's house before, not really and it felt a little funny in a strange 'he's been in my house at least a dozen times already and this is my first time in his even though we're neighbors' kind of way.

It was also a little weird how quickly he'd been able to relax and make himself at home. As he sank into the couch and propped up his feet on the coffee table, flicking the TV on, he caught sight of Jimmy from the corner of his eye. Dean wouldn't ever forget the way Jimmy's smile lit his whole face like a Christmas tree making his eyes all bright and young and innocent.

"So what do you do for fun around here?" Dean asked a couple hours later.

Jimmy's smile turned into a smirk as he pointed to a cabinet full of DVDs and cassette tapes. Dean followed his gaze and felt his own lips curl into a grin, taking in all the classic movies. He promptly forgot about Sam and Andy and accidentally fell asleep curled up on the couch with Jimmy that night, classic 'Dracula' rolling all night.

John wasn't one for Christmas shopping. He usually left that the women; his wife, his sister, his niece, basically any female that currently shared the household with him. It just wasn't a male thing to do–shopping. Males played sports and worked long, late shifts and paid the bills and fished and hunted and did all the guys stuff. Shopping, not including the occasional need to go food shopping or 'fix the sink'–'fix the toilet'–'fix whatever' shopping, was strictly a woman's thing.

So he couldn't exactly believe Mary was able to convince him to get his ass out of bed and help her with the shopping list. It was a week before Christmas, as close to last minute shopping as Mary Campbell-Winchester would allow. She woke him up an hour before his alarm was set this morning–it had read six AM when he glanced over. He groaned and complained but one look from his wife had shut him up as he went through the morning routine (shower, brush teeth, shave, dress, grab coffee and eat breakfast) and then they were out the door and in the car by close to nine.

Now two hours later he found himself trapped in the mini mall with his mood swing pregnant wife looking at boys' clothes–at least they didn't look at socks yet–and pillows and other crap he couldn't make himself care about. They ended up buying Dean a pair of roller skates and Sam a new bicycle, picked out a baseball bat for both the boys because John was able to convince Mary that the 'cute' oversized stuffed bear was designed for daughters, not sons. No matter how cute the boys looked, they were still boys damn it.

He allowed Mary to pick out some sweaters in Christmas colors to make it up to her, because that a part of marriage–compromise. "As long as there aren't any socks," he mumbled as he followed her from one rack to another. Because people always hated getting socks for Christmas. Somehow it was lumped in with coal, that if someone gave you socks it meant you did something terrible all through life, which never made any sense to John because socks were practical, a necessity unlike videogames and junk food. But the look on Sam's face when John's brother gave him socks for Christmas nearly five years ago, the nonstop sobbing made John feel so shitty.

"Socks are practical though," Mary said matter-of-factly and John just wanted to hide his head in his hands and groan. In the end, though, he didn't have anything to worry about. They came back home with half a dozen bags filled to the brim with clothes and teenage sports equipment. John took all the bags up the stairs and hid them safely in the master bedroom.

It wasn't like he was all that worried about Sam peeking at the gifts early; he hasn't done that kind of thing since he was eight. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

Christmas Eve sucked. John felt like a lousy father. Back in November something had changed between the boys that John hasn't noticed until they started going back to acting like they hated each other earlier in the month of December. He was sure it had to do with the new boy named Jimmy Novak but whatever the kid actually did to drive a wedge between his boys was lost to John. Or maybe Novak didn't have anything to do with anything and this was just John's overly protective 'papa bear' coming out to play and causing paranoia where he wasn't sure he needed.

Still he couldn't help but feel something happened, and now that Sam was hanging out with Andy, it just made the feeling all the worse. Either way Dean asked to hang around with Jimmy today, which was unheard of. In the month that the Novaks came to live next to them, John was pretty sure no one has ever been inside their house before. Only Jimmy ever came by to work on homework in Dean's room.

It wasn't like John was worried that the Novaks had some terrible secret to hide or anything, in fact he was sure they were nice people. He only ever spoke to Christian and Elizabeth once–the first day they moved in John decided it was only polite to introduce themselves–and they seemed friendly and nice enough and their son was one swell kid.

Nah he wasn't worried, not really, that was why he told Dean, "Sure, go have fun", but then Dean didn't come back for the whole day. Andy had left at seven, right after dinner. Sam didn't say much. He kept looking at the empty seat at the table with a frown. John was sure his son was feeling lonely without his step brother.

John woke up on Christmas morning to the sound of the door bell. Grumbling, he looked over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. It read 5:42 AM. He groaned and rolled out of bed, being careful to not wake up Mary. Unfortunately his wife was a light sleeper and before he could fully slip out of bed, her hand shot out to cling tightly to his white undershirt he used as pajamas.

"What time is it?" she asked in a still-sleep filled voice.

"About twenty minutes 'til six," he grumbled, swatting the hand away. "Lemme get the door."

Mary moaned and rolled over to her side to face her husband, one hand wrapped around her pillow. "Come back to bed, hunny. It's probably just a salesperson; let them think we're not home, or God forbid, we're still sleeping."

John pulled on a pair of sweatpants on the floor with a tired sigh. "Too late for that, Mare. You know how I am–once I'm awake I can't get back to sleep, besides Sam's gonna be waking up soon anyway and lemme tell you right now, that kid's a monster on Christmas."

He heard Mary chuckle as he headed out the room. The rustling of blankets told him that he'd made his point clear. The door bell sounded again and John shuffled down to answer it. When he swung open the door he was surprised to see his other son in a larger man's chokehold, grin widening to bare white teeth as he took in John's tired, disheveled appearance.

"Ain't you a sight for sore eyes, Winchester," the man remarked, shifting Dean in a better grip as the boy wrestled to get out. "Got you a present think you might want back. Saw him out on the streets at such an ungodly hour. Said he was a Winchester."

"No, no I didn't say that! I'm not a Winchester damn it, I'm a Campbell," Dean spat, arms and legs flailing. "Always will be no matter what anyone says, and that includes him!"

John watched in astonishment as the man took a firmer grip on his son, eventually forcing Dean to still then fall limb, glaring at the ground, refusing to meet John's gaze. The man seemed satisfied and looked back at John thoughtfully. His smile had faltered when he'd been trying to get the teen to calm down but now that they were meeting each other's gazes again, the man's smile brightened.

"Now aren't you gonna invite your ol' friend in, maybe for a cup o' coffee or somethin'?"

Dry mouthed, John nodded and stepped aside so the man could come inside. Then he closed the door and beckoned them to the kitchen after Dean was released. He could hear Dean follow them like a petulant child. "Who the hell are you?" his son demanded once John made coffee for himself and the man.

"Didn't your daddy tell you anything, kid?" the man asked sitting down at the table and blowing his steaming coffee.

"If he did I wouldn't be asking now would I?"

John sighed sipping from his own mug. He knew exactly what was coming.

"Bobby Singer, the name's Bobby Singer."