A/N: So it's been two years and although I have now decided to go down an artists path because of my spelling problems i've decided to keep doing creative writing for fun. To previous readers thank you for waiting so patiently and to new readers - welcome! Reviews are greatly appreciated (but please be gentle)
Thank you my lovellies
Sam lifts the small spoon in his hand, staring at the lumpy porridge sitting in it before letting it fall back into the well-used cracked bowl in front of him with a resounding 'plop'. Sat across from the young boy was his father, an old haggard looking man whose calloused hands held a book firmly in front of him. Sam was quite sure that the lore his dad seemed to be studying intensely was not nearly as interesting as his own tale. "I fell down a massive hill yesterday" the boy exclaimed with a grin that could rival any clowns, yet his dad said nothing but "uh huh" with old eyes not leaving the page. Sammy's grin dropped like a bomb, before he swung out his arms proclaiming, "I could have died", he held them out waiting for a response, smiling once more. "That's nice" the hunter's son let his arms fall slowly to the table thinking of something else to say that could possibly get his father's attention; he looked out the window before seeing the pouring rain which, Sam felt, would have created the most perfect puddles to jump in. "Daddy, please can I go out" John let out a tired sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation "Sam for once could you just sit still and be quiet, just once" said boy pulled a bitch face that could rival any teenagers. "But other kids my age get to go out and play, why can't I?" At this the old hunter stared into the distance, a sad look passing through his vision. "you know why you can't Sam, it's just not possible since your mums…accident". Then with a fire in his belly that could rival the very Strongest of warriors, the young child shouted, "It's not my fault Mums dead and she's never coming back!" Little Sammy was unaware at what a pressure point he had just hit until his father shouted at him with a bark like a Rottweilers "Sam I do not want to deal with you right now, so go sit with your brother and stop bothering me!" That was all the suggestion Sam needed before hopping down from his chair, small feet thumping on the old wooden floorboards. Dean will take me outside.
On his way to see his brother Sammy heard a fast, excited knock on the door, he sighed with more exasperation than a child his age should be able to muster before he opened the door to the shock of gold hair that was Gabriel. "heyya Sammy I found this and I thought you might like it, being a kid and all. Personally, I think it looks like you but whatever" with a final shrug of his shoulders the twelve-year-old threw a small ragged doll at Sam, whose face morphed into a look of disgust before looking back up "uh thanks, I guess" and then with all the manners of his father he slammed the door in the other boy's face before he could respond.
Sam was still analysing this 'Sammy-like doll' as he wandered into dean's room where the 13-year-old was tapping at his Gameboy like his life depended on it. Upon the realisation that his brother was yet to notice his existence the younger cleared his throat, forcing the elders head to jerk up. "oh, hey Sammy, and uh, Sammy Doll" Sam ignores the comment, knowing that otherwise his brother would mock him for having a doll. "Dean, have you seen my soccer ball?" without missing a beat said boy replied, "it's raining outside, isn't it". The smallest hunter sighs as he's picked up into the taller boy's arms "I'm guessing dad said no, huh? Well how about I give you a note book and you can go off and play a game, maybe count all the clocks in this place or something" As he said this he walked towards the door, sweeping up a note book and handing it to Sam before gently setting him on his feet in the corridor. "When I've finished my homework, I'll look and see if you got it all right" and with that Sam felt the large wooden door slam behind him.
CEach room held many features the young explorer did not expect. When Sam went into his Dads room he found an oddly suspicious mug that seemed to be filled with disgusting green mould (which young Sammy theorised must have been there for at least 50 years!) In the bathroom, he heard a low hiss that he was convinced was a snake, only to peel back the awful puke orange mat and discover a small colony of cockroaches. It was only after Sam went to clutch his doll in fear that he noticed it was no longer in his arms. Wandering with tiny sock cladded feet he retraced his footsteps. "where could you be?" and as if the doll had heard his question, it appeared out of the corner of his eye. Running over he grabbed it from behind the garish green armchair. "how did you get here…" the boys short musings were cut off when he spotted the shape of a tiny door covered by the wallpaper. "Dean!" said elder brother came running in "what Sam, what is it!" he asked scouring the room for danger before his green eyes settled on his tiny brother kneeling on the floor with giant pleading eyes. "Where does this door go?"