Disclaimer: on, eseht era ton enim.

A/N: Wow, this has to be a first! So I went back to my parents for the weekend, and, like a dunce, didn't send any of my one shots through my e-mail so I could post. But then, on a whim, I wrote up this one shot tonight-- in about two hours between playing some weird game on the Wii with my brother. It's kindda long; which surprised me-- I must'a been on a roll. It's just a story that game to me after watching the last episode of season one where Dean tells Sam about how he always wanted to be a fireman. That's all I gotta say about this one-- enjoy, and don't forget to review!

Title: I Always Wanted to be a Fireman
Genre: It's really quite suspensful.
Summary: Fifteen year old Dean was awoken one night to the cry of his little brother and the smell of smoke. With the deadly flames coming closer, and his Dad missing, Dean knows it's up to him to save not only himself, but young Sammy as well...

I Always Wanted to be a Fireman

Dean wasn't sure what happened first… even years later when he'd think back he couldn't be sure. It could have been any one of three things; the loud alarm, the smell of smoke or his little brother crying out his name. Odds are it was Sammy's cry-- no matter what was happening, no matter how deep of a sleep Dean was in, Sam could always get Dean's attention. And the eldest brother had been fast asleep when he was awoken in the middle of the night.

"Dean!" Sam's cry jolted the fifteen year old out of his deep sleep, "Dean, help!"

Immediately the other two elements were noticed as Dean heard the fire alarm, and could not only smell the smoke, but see the thick black mask enveloping the room they were in. It was a small hotel room that their Dad had rented out for a month; a place to stay between renting houses their Dad had promised. It wasn't that bad Dean had rationalized-- it had two bedrooms; one for himself and eleven year old Sam, and one for their Dad. The place had a small kitchenette, a slightly larger living room area, and even a bathroom with a shower stall in it. The cheep hotel was two stories tall with a swimming pool off to the side that hadn't been open in about two years. Now, however, none of that seemed to matter as a loud cough erupted from Sam's side of the room in a strangled attempt to call out Dean's name again.

"Sammy!" Dean called out, his own gagging cough escaping, "Sammy, get to the ground!"

There was a soft thump as he heard his little brother follow his command, and Dean followed quickly after. With fumbling hands, Dean reached up to the end table, and kicked the button on for the lamp. The light barely penetrated the black smoke, though it gave Dean the opportunity to see that, in fact, Sam had gone to the floor, and was now laying there covering his mouth; his eyes wide.

"It's gonna be ok Sammy!" Dean cried out.

Dean braved the smoke which worked against gravity as he leaned up onto his bed, and grabbed his pillow. His eyes stung from the smoke, though quickly the elder brother pulled off the pillowcase, and crawled over to his little brother.

"Put this over your face," Dean commanded, handing the navy blue pillowcase to Sam, "And don't move it! Take slow breaths Sammy."

Sam nodded and did as he was told.

"Stay here," Dean commanded.

"Dean, no!" Sam cried out, clutching at Dean's arm as he tried to move away.

"Don't worry Sammy," Dean's heart pounded as he stroked Sam's hair back, "I won't leave you-- I promise. I just-- I have to figure out a way to get us out. I have to see if it's safe."

Sam's feeble, scared nod was followed by the release of Dean's t-shirt, and the teen crawled away towards the door. The closer he got, the louder the noise of the fire got, and with that thought, his blood turned to ice.

"Dad…" Dean whispered, his throat tightening in fear.

Finally he reached the closed door, and Dean's heart pounded so hard it hurt… or was that from the smoke? The heat was obvious by this point, and, pulling his once white shirt over his mouth and nose, Dean rose to his knees and touched the handle. He recoiled back in pain as the knob was hot enough to burn in the mere half a second it was touched.

"No," Dean whispered out, tears crawling their way down his face, "No… please," a loud cough wracked through his body as panic rushed through him, "No… Dad!!"

The roar of the fire was so close now that Dean could barely hear his own call, let alone even think that his Dad could have. With a quick plea that his Dad had some how made it out, Dean turned back to where he'd left Sam.

He'd have to do this on his own.

"Sammy," Dean crawled close to ground as the smoke only got thicker; causing his head to pound painfully, "Sammy, say something!"

"Dean," Sam said, followed quickly be a deep cough, "Over here."

Dean made it to his little brother, and clutched his pyjama top, "Sammy… are you ok?"

Sam sniffled, and nodded his head, "Where- where's Dad?"

"I don't know," Dean continued to hold his shirt feebly over his face, "But don't worry, ok? I'm gonna get us out of here."

"The door," Sam looked back to where Dean came from, "Is it too hot?"

"Yeah," Dean swallowed hard, forcing back the fear, and willing himself to live on the adrenaline that pumped through him, "Just wait here again… I'm going to go to the window."

"But we're on the second floor!" Sam cried out, "We can't jump-- we'll get hurt!"

"I'll figure it out Sammy," Dean promised, "I won't let anything bad happen to you."

There was a long pause as Sam realized the same thing Dean had moments ago, "…did Dad get out?"

Dean placed a quick hand on Sam's shoulder, "Dad wouldn't let a fire kill him Sammy… he'll be ok-- and so will we. Just wait here for a second, and keep your face covered!"

Sam nodded, and again Dean took off. This time towards the other side of the room where a large window sat between the two single sized beds. As he stood to his feet to reach the window, dizziness overwhelmed the hunter, and he was forced to grab hold of the ledge of the window to stop himself from falling. The shirt had fallen back to its rightful place, and Dean tried to force himself only to breath when necessarily.

"Come on," Dean muttered, pulling at the rusted latch that held the window shut.

With a large grunt, it finally popped open, a large gust of wind sucking the black smoke out the window, and pulling even more in through under the door. This caught Dean off guard for a moment as the rushing smoke burnt his eyes, and a fit of coughing escaped from not only his mouth, but also from the small boy that still laid on the ground. Dean had turned away from the window, though knew he'd have to go back to push the screen out so that they could escape from the fire which now was licking at the door of the bedroom of which had trapped them in their own personal prison.

"Dean!" Sam cried out.

"Sam, crawl closer!" Dean shouted through the immense noise that had happened at the opening of the window.

The sirens of the fire trucks and ambulances from outside of the hotel could be heard, along with shouts and cries of spectators a safe distance away from the fire. Dean wondered, prayed even, that his Dad was one of those people. That the eldest Winchester had escaped out of the hotel, or that maybe he had left it to go to the car, or go for a walk as he sometimes did during the night.

Anything.

Taking a deep breath of toxic air, Dean turned back towards the window and pushed out the screen. Looking back into the room, Dean noticed two things; one was that the light had now gone out; sending even more darkness into their hideaway, and two-- the bright orange flames which pushed through the door. They didn't have much time left.

"Dean, please," Sam cried from the floor by Dean's feet.

"It's ok Sammy," Dean gagged as he bent down to Sam's level, "Come on-- we gotta get out of here!"

"But we're on the second floor!" tears were falling down Sam's dirty face.

Dean stood up and leaned his head out the window. He could barely see two feet out, though when looking down, he saw an awning which had yet to be consumed by the flames. If he could get the two of them down to that level, then they'd be able to jump without getting hurt too badly. From his vantage point, he could tell the fire had eaten up much of the hotel, and the firemen were having a difficult time controlling it. Added to that, the majority of them seemed to be on the far side of the place-- no one close enough to call for help.

Again Dean looked down at the awning just over six feet bellow them, "Sammy, stand up!"

Sam stood to his feet, clutching onto Dean for support as he coughed into the once blue pillowcase.

"You gotta trust me!" Dean shouted as the fire pushed its way into the room, "I'm going to help you up, and then lower you to the awning bellow us!"

"What about you?" Sam held on even tighter to Dean's sleep pants and t-shirt.

"I'll be right behind you," Dean assured, and then paused in thought, "But if I don't make it Sammy, I want you to jump down from the awning onto the ground, and run to the firemen!"

"Not without you!" Sam sobbed in fear.

"Sammy, listen!" Dean yelled out, trying to be stern in a manner he remembered his father using on him when he'd get scared, "You need to do this."

Sam looked up at Dean through the pillowing smoke, and slowly nodded his head, "O-Ok."

Without hesitation, Dean lifted his little brother up and sat him on the ledge of the window. Pausing a slight moment then, Dean gently kissed the top of young Sammy's head. He wasn't sure if Sam noticed, but if Dean didn't make it out he didn't want the last contact with Sam to be yelling at him. Wordlessly Dean then gripped Sam's hands tightly, and lowered him down the side of the building; Sam whimpering out in fear as he did so. Smoke was puffing out on the first floor, though not as much as the second; giving Dean the impression that the fire had started on the second floor. Reaching as far as his arms would allow him, Dean finally felt Sam touch the awning, and he let go.

"Now you!" Sam cried up.

Dean coughed loudly, followed by a large rush of dizziness that caused him to crash clumsily against the wall by the window. The fire was fully in the room now, having eaten away at the place where Sammy had once been laying on the ground. Horrid memories of the fire that stole their mother away relayed in Dean's mind. He didn't remember much from that night-- only enough to make him fear loosing a family member more than anything else in the world. This thought reminded him again of their Dad, and a small sob escaped the fifteen year old as he though, just for a moment, of laying down and letting the smoke and fire do their job.

"Dean!!"

Sam's frantic scream, however, changed Dean's mind and he leaned out the window; thick black smoke preventing him from seeing anything more than a foot in front of him. Again dizziness overwhelmed him, and blackness started to consume his consciousness. It's was Sam's third cry that brought back Dean's will to fight as he pulled himself over the edge of the window and dropped down to the awning bellow.

"Dean!" Sam grabbed Dean's arm to stop him from rolling onto the ground, "Are you ok?!"

Dean coughed loudly in an attempt to get the smoke out of his lungs, "Y-Yeah… c'mon!"

Flames were visible through the window they now sat in front of, and Dean didn't want to chance being around if a back-draft happened. As a positive note, Dean noticed the air was much clearer, and he could easily see the ground another ten feet bellow. Dean, himself was just a few inches short of being six feet, and so knew he could make the jump without being hurt too badly, though the thought of having to lower his brother down again, caused Dean to almost be sick. The smoke continued to wrack through him, and if Dean dropped his little brother too soon, or slipped, then Sam could be seriously hurt-- something he'd never forgive himself for.

Sam stared at Dean; the pillowcase still clutched to his face, "We're gonna go down again?"

Dean glanced hopefully around for a firefighter, or anyone to help, though saw no one, and so gave a feeble nod.

"Yeah," Dean moved quickly then as he grabbed hold of his brother's sweaty hands, "Lets go."

The action was smooth, and to any spectator would appeared as if the brother's had done it a million times. But in seconds, Sam had thumped down to the pavement bellow-- his bare feet solidly on the ground. Not thinking twice, Dean lowered himself down as much as possible, and then dropped-- missing a nearby bush by mere inches.

"Dean!" Sam grabbed hold of Dean in a large hug, "We did it!"

Dean reciprocated the hug; pulling Sam close enough to smell the sickening smoke in his hair. He ran his hand over Sam's back in a soothing motion, and tried to not only stop his little brother's shaking, but his own as well. Dean's own bare feet felt cool against the damp ground, and he closed his eyes in silent thanks that he was able to get them out of the building.

"It's ok Sammy," Dean finally whispered out, "You're ok," he stopped after that comment for a moment, "You are ok, right?"

Dean took a step back, and pulled Sam's face to look up at his. Sam's face was almost unrecognizable through the soot and tears, though his large, dark eyes were the same ones that Dean remembered. Carefully Sam nodded his head, though the deep, hacking cough that followed showed Dean that he wasn't as ok as Sam was claiming. However, the cough that Dean returned, and the pain that coursed through his chest went to show that Dean, as well, was far from ok. Dean was about to make another comment when a shout from behind them caught his attention.

"Hey! There's some kids over there!"

Turning around, Dean saw two firemen come running over to them. A smile spread to Dean's face at the sight of help-- even if they didn't need it anymore.

"Son," the first fireman immediately placed a hand on Dean's dirty shoulder, "Are you alright?"

"We- we made it out," Dean somehow felt that sentence important.

"Alright," the second fireman spoke up as he took Sam's hand, "I'm going to take you two to the ambulance over there-- get you looked over."

"Our Dad!" Sam suddenly cried out as the two brother's were led across the crowded parking lot and grass, "Our Dad was in there too! Please… go help him!"

"Just calm down," the fireman holding his hand stopped; Dean forcing his escort to stop as well, "Your Dad-- is he older looking… with a rough face?"

Dean let out a large grin at the description, "Yeah! Have you seen him?!"

The fireman nodded, "Yes-- he's out of the hotel. He's been frantic looking around for his two boys-- which I'm guessing, are you two?"

"Yes!" Dean's voice got excited as he pushed back yet another cough, "Yes Sir… please-- can we see him? Please, where is he?"

"You can see him, don't worry," the fireman calmed Dean, "But we have to get you to an ambulance first."

Dean quickened their pace to the ambulance where the two brother's were ordered to sit and be looked at. Dean barely paid attention to what the two paramedics were saying, and after hearing that Sammy would be ok, Dean put his full attention on staring out into the crowd of people; waiting for the familiar face of his Dad to appear.

"Here son," the paramedic handed Dean an oxygen mask, "I need you to breath deeply into this."

Dean wordlessly took the device, and placed the plastic over his mouth and nose. Glancing to across from him, Dean saw on the other side of the ambulance Sam sitting there with a similar oxygen mask over his face. Dean could tell by the frightened look on Sam's face that his little brother wasn't going to last too much longer without becoming more upset than Dean cared to see him.

"Can I sit with him please?" Dean asked through the mask at the paramedic-- one of them having already gone back out to the scene, "My brother-- can I sit with him?"

The man glanced at Sam, and then at Dean, "Sure. Listen-- I need to go and see if I'm needed out there for a while. I'll be back in ten minutes-- I need the two of you to stay in here and keep the oxygen masks on. That's very important. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir," Dean nodded, and as the paramedic left out the open back of the ambulance, Dean moved to sit beside Sam.

"Dean," Sam whispered out quietly as he leaned into his big brother.

"Shh," Dean held Sam's hand, "It's ok."

"Dad," Sam's voice quivered under the mask, "The fireman. He said that he saw Dad."

"I know Sammy," Dean glanced back out to the crowd of people, "We'll find him."

Almost as if on cue, John's face broke through the people, staring frantically towards the ambulance.

"Dad!" Dean immediately cried out.

"Dean!" John's voice boomed out as he took one giant leap towards the open door.

In one motion, Dean had taken off the mask, and John had stepped into the crowded compartment where the boys sat. Within seconds Dean had his arms wrapped tightly around John, and was crying softly into his strong and protective body.

"Dad--" Dean hiccoughed, grabbing tightly onto his shirt.

"Dean, shh--" John struggled with his own emotions, "Shh…"

"Daddy," Sam whimpered out, new and fresh tears falling down his young face.

"Sammy," John couldn't hide his own tears now as he held out his free arm towards his youngest.

Sam took off his mask as he leapt over to his Dad, grabbing him tightly. For a long while John sat half crouched in the back of the ambulance, one son wrapped in each arm. John leaned down and planted a kiss on the top of both Sam and Dean's head before pulling back to get a better look at them. Both were dirty, and Dean's shirt that was once white was almost completely black now. Sam's face was filthy, and his brown hair was matted to his head.

"Are you boys alright?" John let out a deep quivering breath, "Are you ok?"

Dean nodded, and whipped away the wet from his face, "We're ok Dad. We went out the window."

"Dean lowered me," Sam added in, "He helped save me."

"Good job," John choked out, grabbed hold of Dean again, and leaning his face into his son's smoke filled hair, "Good job Dean."

"How did you get out?" Dean asked through renewed emotions as he continued to lean into his Dad's half embrace, "We didn't know if you got out-- or if you were ok. We were so scared."

"I'm ok," John assured, "I was at the car checking out some papers on a new hunt when I heard the alarm go off," John squeezed his eyes shut, reliving his own horrifying memories, "By the time I got back upstairs it was too late-- there was no way to get to you. God…" John breathed deep, "I'm so glad the two of you made it out."

Sam began to cough again from beside John, and Dean immediately moved back to get a view of his brother.

"The oxygen mask Sam," John grabbed Sam and helped lift him back onto the seat, "You too Dean."

Dean nodded, and replaced his own mask just as coughs overcame his body. For a long while Dean sat on the one side and watched both Sam and his Dad. The mask once again firmly in place, Sam laid curled up on his fathers lap; John relaxing own head against his youngest; his arm wrapped around Sam as he rubbed his arm soothingly. Within minutes, Sam was asleep, and Dean could feel the burning in his lungs lessen.

Outside the ambulance, the fire began to diminish as the firemen did their job. Two of the men stood outside near the Winchester's, and Dean listened with interest to their conversation.

"This is great," the one man spoke up, and Dean could almost hear his smile, "Over two hundred people evacuated-- didn't loose one."

"It was close," the other fireman put in, "Dough got one lady out of a room on the second floor just moments before it collapsed in."

"Did you hear about what happened in the west wing?" the first man's voice rose in excitement, "Some kid-- couldn't have been more then fifteen, rescued his kid brother, helping him down the two stories and to safety."

"I heard," the second laughed in disbelief, "Kids like that-- that's what we need on our force."

§

Dean walked down the hallway in the fireman suit; Sam in tow. The situation was serious-- far more serious than he would have ever wanted it to be. If their Dad wasn't in one of the rooms down this hallway, everything would be for nothing. All that aside, however, a small smile tugged at Dean's mouth beneath his mask.

Finally he spoke as they got to the room and stood in front of the door, a sense of proud remembrance in his voice, "I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up…"

The End.