Whoops, this story isn't a one-shot anymore.

February, 18th, 1998

Coat zipped tight against the evening's icy wind, Sam stormed away from the ramshackle home he and his family were currently occupying. They were leaving. Again. Just when he'd settled into the fourth school of the year. John Winchester couldn't even give his sons a full month in one town, Sam thought bitterly. And even though he didn't really mean it, because more people could get hurt, Sam wished that his father's hunt would last a little longer. He was sick of moving, sick of long car rides and new towns, sick of dusty motel rooms and drafty trailers. Maybe Sam could see why Dean never bothered to make friends anymore or try hard to impress the teachers in class. Nothing mattered if they were leaving in a few weeks anyway. But Sam couldn't bring himself to think like that; it felt too much like giving up and embracing the lifestyle he had so learned to resent.

Sam's sneakers crunched over the thin layer of snow on the ground as he walked. He regretted not grabbing his gloves on the way out the back door. Behind him, the house faded in the distance, swallowed by trees. Sam knew that if he turned around, he would see Dean's silhouette in the window, watching him leave. But he didn't turn around. Instead, he made a sharp left off the road onto a little dirt path, and took a short cut to the town park. At this time of winter, the daylight slipped away rapidly as Sam walked, leaving him in a pale, frosty twilight. Sam emerged from the trees and made a beeline across the park for the swing set. He sat heavily in one of the swings, intending to brood until he couldn't feel his fingers, and then head back to the house. Hopefully, John will have gone to bed by then, and if Sam slept in late, he could avoid seeing his father in the morning too. However, as Sam sat, slowly swinging himself side to side with one foot, he got the distinct feeling that he wasn't along. Without outwardly reacting, Sam's eyes scanned the barren park, taking in the frost-covered playground equipment. Nothing. And yet, Sam couldn't shake the weight of eyes on his back.

There. In the little fort on top of the jungle gym, Sam could make out the toes of a pair of sneakers. Sam shifted in his seat to get a better view and spotted arms curled around knees. Trying to act casually, Sam stood up from the swings and walked closer to the jungle gym. As he drew level with it, Sam pulled himself up on the bars and peered into the fort.

"Hey." That was all Sam managed to say before a tiny, bony fist collided with his nose. Sam stumbled backwards, hands to his nose, cursing. Overhead, he heard the sound of scuffing feet and then a thump as the kid in question jumped to ground and took off running. Through watering eyes, Sam saw a short, dark-haired figure sprinting across the playground.

"Hey! Wait!" Sam called, and ran after the kid. The kid ignored him and nearly made it out of the park before tripping over an exposed tree root and sprawling out over the hard dirt. Sam caught up to who he could now see was a young girl. She was sitting on the frosty ground, gingerly holding one of her ankles.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, squatting down next to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

The girl whipped her head up to meet Sam's eyes. "You didn't scare me!" Sam raised his hands defensively.

"Ok. Sure. Did you hurt your ankle?"

"No. Leave me alone." The girl reached down to untie her show.

"Leave your shoe on!" Sam cut in. "If you take your shoe off, the ankle might swell and you could make it worse."

The girl shot him another angry look, but didn't touch her shoe.

"My name's Sam. What's yours?" Sam asked. Silence fell in the park as the girl steadfastly ignored him. Sam sat back on his haunches, letting the girl take her time. When she spoke, it was almost too quiet for Sam to catch.

"Thalia."

"Thalia?" The girl nodded. Sam guessed she couldn't be older than ten. "That's a really pretty name. Is it like the muse? From those Greek stories?" Thalia's eyes flicked up to his, surprised.

"How'd you know?"

Sam shrugged. "Just a guess. I really like those stories. My big brother says that makes me a nerd." Thalia let out a small smile at Sam's joke and Sam took it as progress.

"Can I take a look at your ankle?" He asked. Thalia hesitated, then nodded. She shifted her weight so she was truly facing Sam, wincing as her ankle moved. Sam took the opportunity to really look at her for the first time. She was tiny. Dark, spiky hair framed a freckled face. Brilliant blue eyes watched as Sam pulled up the hem of her pant leg and inspected an already swelling ankle. Sam took note of the tattered nature of her jeans, her scuffed sneakers, and her jacket too light for the weather.

"I think your ankle will be fine if you rest it for a day or so. I don't think you sprained it, just a minor roll. Do you live around here? Can I help you get home?" Thalia only shrugged, avoiding his eyes. Sam's gaze fell on the the T-shirt under Thalia's jacket—a Van Halen band shirt, several sizes too big. He had an idea.

"Do you like pie?" Sam asked. Thalia frowned at the sudden topic change, but nodded slowly.

"Great! I told you about my brother right? See, he loves pie too. He loves it so much that we always have pie in the house. So I was thinking, you could come back with me, have some pie, and get some ice for your ankle." Sam said, not mentioning that he was pretty sure the girl was a runaway, or that she looked to skinny, or that she looked too cold. Thalia's good foot tapped against the ground as she looked at Sam. Her eyes bore into him as if she were trying to see his soul.

"Would you have milk to go with the pie?" She asked. Sam nodded an affirmative. He knew she would accept, but let her pretend to think about it. "I guess that's ok then."

A short trip later, Sam's current home came into view between the trees as he and Thalia walked, his shoulder under her arm as she limped along, his coat slung around her thin frame and his hat shoved down over her ears. He pulled her to a stop as they reached the back steps.

"Wait here a minute. I'm not sure if my dad's asleep yet." Sam made sure she was sitting comfortably on the steps, and then pushed the door open and entered the kitchen. Dean's tall frame immediately filled his view.

"Where the hell have you been, Sammy?" Dean pulled him deeper into the kitchen. Sam unconsciously relaxed into the warmth of the house. "It's fucking freezing outside and you've been gone for hours. And what happened to your coat?"

"Is dad asleep yet?" Sam asked, peering down the dark hallway that led to the bedrooms.

"What? No. Actually, dad left. Said he was getting an early start on the hunt." Dean said. Something sour twisted in Sam's gut at the thought of his father leaving without saying goodbye, but right now, Sam knew it was a good thing.

"Ok, good. Now don't freak out." Dean gaped at Sam's retreating back as his little brother walked outside and returned with a stranger in tow. The girl was half hiding behind his brother, looking at the floor. Dean noticed she was wearing Sam's coat and hat.

"Who the fu—" Dean stopped himself. "Who's this?" Sam stepped to the side, bringing the girl further into the kitchen and shutting the door behind them.

"This is Thalia. We met in the park. She hurt her ankle." Sam glanced anxiously at Dean, weighing his reaction. "I thought you could look at it, get her some ice?" The girl did seem to be favoring one leg over the other. Dean sighed. His brother always managed to find strays to care for. This one just happened to not be a dog or cat like the others.

"Yeah, come sit down and I'll take a look." Dean said, pulling a chair away from the table for her to sit at. As she did, she mumbled something under breath.

"What was that?" Dean asked her. Sam glanced over from the freezer where he was gathering ice. The girl looked up at Dean brazenly, and for a moment, Dean could see the steel in her eyes.

"Sam said there would be pie." She said. Dean laughed.

"A girl after my own heart."

Several hours later, Dean found himself pinned to the couch by the two sleeping kids resting in his lap. The living room was dark. Abandoned plates of pie and bowls of popcorn lay on the floor next to the melting bag of ice once held against Thalia's elevated ankle. The credits to Jurassic Park rolled across the television screen. Dean smiled softly down at his kid brother. Sam was growing up too fast, and Dean knew they wouldn't get many more moments like this. He was proud of Sam for recognizing the help that Thalia needed today, not just with some food to fill her stomach, but a warm place to sleep, and the chance to act like a kid again. The girl had been impressively close-lipped, but Dean recognized pieces of himself in her attitude.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean whispered, tapping his brother's cheek. Sam lifted his head groggily.

"Wha?"

"You need to sleep in your actual bed." Dean told him. Sam nodded, rising sleepily from the couch. "Take the dishes back to the kitchen. And try not to wake up the kid."

Sam nodded again and handled the plates while Dean slid out from under Thalia's sleeping form. In a move practiced on Sam many times, he swapped his lap for a pillow underneath her head. Dean waited to make sure she stayed asleep, and then tucked a blanket around her as well. He met Sam in the kitchen.

"You know we can't keep her, right?" Dean said. Sam looked up from the sink.

"She needs people to be there for her."

"Yeah. But do you really think that we're the best for that?"

Sam's seemed too tired to fight. "What are we going to do then?" He said as he fought back a yawn.

Dean clapped a hand over his brother's shoulder. "We'll figure it out in the morning. Catch some sleep, kiddo."

Sam and Dean never got the chance to help Thalia though. She was gone by the time Dean stumbled out of bed in the morning. The blankets she slept under were folded neatly on the couch and granola bars were missing from the cupboards. A note left on the kitchen table read 'Thanks' in sloppy handwriting.

Sam ran out into their backyard, shouting for her. He dragged Dean to the park and they looked for hours but Dean knew that if the kid didn't want to be found, they couldn't find her. As the sun dipped below the trees, Sam and Dean sat heavily on their back steps in silence. Dean watched the light seep from the sky. Sam stared forlornly at his shoes. Thalia had kept his hat too.

"She'll be ok." Dean spoke up. Sam looked over at his older brother. "That kid is a fighter."

"You think?" Sam asked. Dean nodded confidently.

"Oh yeah. Totally. Thalia's a real fighter. I saw that in her."

Sam looked up at the darkening sky. "Do you think we'll see her again someday?"

Dean studied Sam's face. He could see hints of the man his brother was going to become. It made Dean feel sad for some reason.

"Yeah. I think we'll see her again."