Birthdays were a big deal in Miss Sherry's first grade class. Dean was beyond excited to get the special treatment of being the birthday boy. They weren't a big deal at home, and his dad was off in California, and he didn't think Bobby knew when his birthday was. Miss Sherry pinned a big blue "It's my birthday" pin on his shirt first thing in the morning and he got first pick of the classroom chores that week. So he got to feed that class hamster; all in all, a pretty good beginning of the day, until snack time.
"Where are the cupcakes?" Jason asked.
"There aren't any cupcakes today, Jason," Miss Sherry said.
"But its Dean's birthday," Ally said. "Everyone brings cupcakes on their birthday. How come Dean doesn't?"
"I'm not allowed to use the stove," Dean said seriously. "Otherwise I'd maked them. I telled my dad I was supposta have them, but he was busy. We wasn't staying at Uncle Bobby's until tonight."
"But we're supposta have cupcakes," Julie said. "I didn't bring a snack, because I thought we was getting cupcakes. That's not fair Miss Sherry."
"I think I have some popcorn I can make for anyone who didn't bring a snack today," Miss Sherry said, going over to the cabinet and finding a big container of popcorn and the popper. "We can all make popcorn together, how about that?"
"I want cupcakes," Kelly whined. "It's a cupcake day. Dean eats the cupcakes on everyone else's birthday. It's not fair."
Dean squirmed in his seat, eventually laying his head down on the table, trying to make himself as small as possible. Miss Sherry passed out popcorn in bowls to everyone, quieting them for a few minutes. He sat glued to his seat while everyone else got ready for the after snack recess. It had snowed the night before, so recess was going to be quite the adventure. But Dean didn't move. He just sat there with his head down against the table, untouched bowl of popcorn next to him.
"Dean," Miss Sherry said walking over to him from the doorway where she was supervising the rest of the class. "Aren't you coming, we're going to go play in the snow."
"I don't have snow pants," Dean said into his arm. "I can't play in the snow like everyone else. I has to stay on the sidewalk, so I don't want to go outside, because everyone will laugh at me more."
"Dean," Miss Sherry said crouching next to him and rubbing his back. "It's okay, but I can't just leave you here alone. You have to go with everyone else."
"But I don't want them to laugh at me no more," Dean said lifting his head, tears flowing down his face. "They're gonna know that I cried and they're gonna laugh at me for being a baby who doesn't have cupcakes or snow pants."
"Sweetie," Miss Sherry said softly. "I'm sorry."
"Miss Sherry!" Someone shouted from the doorway. "It's getting hot, can we go outside now?"
"Just a second," Miss Sherry answered. "Look, Dean, I can't just leave you here by yourself."
"I won't touch anything," Dean said lip quivering. "I'll just sit right here, like a good boy, you don't has to worry about me."
"Dean, I can't," Miss Sherry sighed looking up from Dean to the line by the door. "How about this? You go to the library, and tell Mrs. Westbrook that you're staying in from recess. The rest of the class will meet you there later. Does that sound okay? You can find a good book to read to your brother without anybody bothering you."
Dean nodded. "I just don't want everyone to laugh at me more."
"I know sweetie," Miss Sherry said, her heart breaking, pulling the boy into a tight hug.
"Miss Sherry?" Dean whispered into her ear. "Don't tell anyone I cried. I don't want them to think I'm a baby. Don't tell my dad either if he ever asks you, please?"
"I promise I won't tell anyone," Miss Sherry smiled. "It will be our secret."
Dean wiped his face with the back of his hand and stood up, heading toward the library while everyone else went outside.
Dean found a quiet area of the library where no one would see him and curled into a tight ball. He had a while before the class would come in, if no one knew he was crying it was like that he wasn't crying at all. He stayed there until Miss Sherry found him quite a while later. He'd fallen asleep from all his crying.
When he got home Dean was met, as he usually was, by twenty five solid pounds of Sam.
"Happy Birfday!" Sam yelled. "I's maked you something, come see!" Sam grabbed Dean's hand and dragged him into Bobby's living room where the coffee table was covered with crayons and paper.
Sam grabbed a piece of blue paper and handed it to his brother.
"I maked this all by myself!" He said proudly. "Sept that Uncle Bobby writed the letters, but I writed my name! OPEN!"
"Thank you Sammy, this is great."
Dean opened the card and smiled. "It says "Happy Birfday Deans, the bestest brother ever. Love Sammy. I writed my name right there." Sam pointed to a scribble that almost looked like it might say "Sammy" toward the bottom of the page.
"What is this drawing of Sam?" Dean asked, knowing that it was most likely a dragon.
"I's drawed you!" Sam said pointing to a stick a person. "You's savin' me from the big purple dragon. That's me! You like it?"
"I love it Sammy, thank you," Dean smiled, hugging Sam as tight as he could. "This is the best ever."
"Come sees what Uncle Bobby did!" Sam pulled Dean into the kitchen where Bobby stood over the stove. "Uncle Bobby, Deans is home. I gived him my card."
Bobby turned around to face the boys. "How was school, today?"
"I don't like school," Dean said. "It's not fun anymore. The other kids get meaner all the time. And today everyone was mad because I didn't have cupcakes. But I'm not allowed to use the stove to make them. And Dad's busy and no one ever understands. And then I didn't have snow pants so I can't play in the snow but Miss Sherry let me go to the library for recess so it wasn't too bad, cuz no one laughed at me about not having snow pants." Dean took a deep breath because he couldn't cry in front of Bobby.
"There has to be some part of school that you like, Dean," Bobby said, a sad look on his face. "I know your classmates haven't been the greatest, but you hafta like something."
"Well…" Dean said, thinking hard. "I like the learning stuff. Like learning time and learning about the weather and why it rains, and reading. Miss Sherry says I'm really good at math. I like numbers and going to the library."
"That's what you gotta concentrate on then, buddy," Bobby smiled. "You can't let the bad stuff ruin the fun stuff."
"I guess," Dean mumbled.
"Show him!" Sammy yelled impatiently. "Show him the thing!"
"After dinner, Sam," Bobby laughed. "It's not ready yet."
Sam sighed like this was the most inconvenient thing in the world. "But-"
"Go play in the living room, Sam," Bobby said. "I'll show him in a little bit."
Sam rolled his whole head, since he didn't quite get rolling his eyes, then stormed off into the living room.
"Sit down Dean," Bobby said as Dean went to follow his brother. "I wanna talk to you for a minute."
Dean sat down on a kitchen chair slowly, unsure about what he'd done wrong this time. It had been a long time since he kicked Julie, or broken anything on accident. Maybe Miss Sherry called and told him that he was a cry baby. That was probably it.
"What if, after dinner I brought you downtown to get some snow pants?" Bobby said.
"Daddy says I don't need them," Dean mumbled.
"But it would help you fit in at school having snow pants?"
"I guess," Dean said shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Everyone else has them. I can play in the snow if I has them."
"Well, I get them for you for your birthday," Bobby said. "A birthday present, alright?"
"I guess so," Dean said, staring at the floor.
"I gotta 'nother question for you kidd-o," Bobby continued. "Why don't you think the other kids like you?"
"They're mean," Dean said quickly. "They make fun of me all the time."
"Okay," Bobby said. "I got an idea for you. When I was your age, and kids used to make fun me, I would make them laugh."
Dean looked up through his eye lashes. "Did it help?"
"If they're laughing with you, they can't laugh at you," Bobby said. "I bet you can do that, make people laugh. You make Sam laugh all the time."
"He's two, Uncle Bobby. He thinks everything is funny."
Bobby smiled and patted Dean on the shoulder. "Just try it. See if you can make them laugh. Maybe that will help you out, and you won't be so sad at school."
"I'll try," Dean nodded. "Can I go play with Sammy now?"
"O'course," Bobby smiled. Dean ran off into the next room. Bobby heard Sammy's squealing laughter as the tickle monster attacked.
At dinner the boys ate better than they usually did. Bobby was a much better cook than John could dream of being. He'd put together a pot roast with potatoes and corn, he'd even made a peach cobbler for dessert.
"Pie?" Dean said fork full of mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth.
"Birfday pie!" Sammy exclaimed. "I help-ed! I's poured the white stuff in the bowl and I stir-ed it!"
"Really?" Dean smiled. "Thanks Uncle Bobby."
"And Sam! I help-ed." Sam whined.
"No problem Buddy," Bobby smiled ruffling Sam's hair. Every piece of Bobby wanted to make Dean happy, wanted to fix everything, but they weren't his boys. He couldn't do a damned thing except make sure those boys left his house with smiles on their faces. He couldn't give them back their childhoods, but he could make sure they had fond memories of him.
After cleaning up, and getting back from the store, Dean spread out his homework over the kitchen table. He liked this part of school a lot. He was really good at remembering things he read. Dad told him that was one of the things that would make him a good hunter someday. He was working his way through a math worksheet when Bobby sat down opposite him.
"I don't need help Uncle Bobby," Dean said. "Miss Sherry says I'm the hardest worker in the class."
"Really now," Bobby smiled, not doubting it for a second. He'd seen the boy slave away the work he brought home.
"I just gots math to do, and then a little reading and questions and then I can give Sammy a bath."
"How about I give Sammy a bath tonight?" Bobby suggested. "You can pick out any movie you want off my shelf and watch it, or pick a show on tv, how about that."
"Sammy's my job, Uncle Bobby," Dean stated seriously. "I take care of him."
"Yeah," Bobby agreed. "But everybody gets a day off sometimes. And it's your birthday. Take the day off."
"But Dad will be mad," Dean reasoned.
"Your Daddy don't gotta know everything you do, Dean."
"It's bad to lie," Dean said adjusting his fireman helmet on his head. "And I don't wanna get in trouble again. Daddy can always tell when I'm lyin' Cuz one time Sammy breaked a lamp in a motel being Sam, and I told Dad it was me, and Sammy didn't say nothin' cuz he was asleep, but Dad knowed I was lyin'. He says I'm really bad at it. And both Sammy and me gots in a lot of trouble."
"If your Dad gets mad because I let you watch tv on your birthday instead of giving Sammy a bath," Bobby said, looking Dean in the eye. "He can come talk to me about it. You won't get in trouble."
"I guess that's okay then." Dean surrendered. "S'long as I gets to read him a story. Sammy likes it when I read the stories. He says I do good voices."
"What if I told both of you a story?" Bobby said. "I know some good stories."
"Can you make good voices?" Dean said seriously. "The voices are the most important part."
"I'll do my best," Bobby promised.
Dean thought for a second. "Yeah, I think that'd be good. I don't know about Sammy, but I think it would be nice."
Bobby got up from the table and went into the living room where Sam had a fierce battle between two different lines of green army men.
Dean worked diligently on his homework, he liked when Miss Sherry told him he was smart, and getting gold stars on his papers when she returned them. That was the best Dean felt, when Miss Sherry told him he was good at something. Bobby seemed to understand, like to make him feel smart.
The only thing he liked better than feeling like he was smart was playing with Sammy. Dad had told him that Sammy was his responsibility, but Dean didn't really have to be told. He knew that Sammy needed to be taken care of and their Dad couldn't do it all the time. It made him feel special to know that he could bring a smile the Sam's face. That he ran up to Dean every day when he got home from school. Sam didn't do that to dad when he got back from a hunt, he didn't do it to Bobby, just Dean, and sometimes that was the greatest feeling in the world. Sammy was Dean's whole world and honestly, he didn't want it any other way.