Disclaimer: I have a cold, so if I try and say no, it'll sound like 'd'oh'.

A/N: The energy that it takes to actually write something here that's worth reading is way too much. I am sick, and am impressed that I can actually string these words together to make a sentence, haha. So this story is a Wee-Chester story, which has been a long time coming. I have nothing nothing else to say, and my fevered head is going back to bed. Haha, enjoy!

Brothers

"No, no, no," five year old Sam's lower lip trembled, "No… please Dean… be ok."

"I'm ok," Dean lied.

Sam shook his head, spotting the blood running down the ten year olds leg, "No you're not."

Dean swallowed back the pain. After all, he'd been hurt much worse than what he now got from tumbling off his bike. But somehow this seemed to be bothering him more than any hunt that he was on with his Dad, and it took a long moment to realize why.

Sam.

His little brother sat crouched on the sidewalk, crying silently and desperately. Their Dad had suggested to Dean that they go for a bike ride, and Sam eagerly agreed, having recently got a new bike for his birthday. Dean gave in, stuck on his helmet, made sure Sam did the same, and they were off. It was on the way back to the house that Dean had hit a pothole and fell to ground; scrapping open his right knee.

"Dean, you're hurt," Sam cried, "We need help."

"It's going to be ok Sammy," Dean breathed deep, eying the sticky red blood leaking down through the gravel on his leg, "I need you to help me though." Sam just cried harder at this, fear in his eyes and Dean placed a hand on his arm and spoke sternly, "Sam, calm down!"

"Why?" Sam hiccoughed.

"Because I hate it when you cry," Dean whispered, "It makes me hurt more."

Sam took a deep quivering breath and nodded, "What do you want me to do Dean?"

"Go to the house over there, and ask if you can use their phone," Dean instructed, "Then call Dad."

"Ok."

Sam ran off, returning a few minutes later with the owner of the house in tow. Together the three people waited on the sidewalk, the friendly neighbor having placed a cool cloth on Dean's knee. Not ten minutes later, the rumble of the Impala was heard and soon seen as it came to a stop by the injured Winchester.

"Dean," John got out of the car and bent down to his oldest son, "Are you ok?"

Dean nodded his head, "Yeah, I fell off my bike."

"It doesn't look too bad," then man from the house spoke up then introduced himself, "My name is Charlie. Sam here went and got me."

"John," the eldest Winchester smiled, "Thanks for your help," he looked back down at Dean, "Let me see."

Dean removed the cloth, forcing himself not to wince.

"Alright," John clapped Dean's shoulder, "I'll take you down to the hospital. Looks like it will need a few stitches."

John helped Dean into the back seat of the Impala, Sam scrambling in after. Charlie agreed to look after the bikes as John drove down the road.

"You did a good job Sammy," John spoke from the driver's seat, "I'm proud of you."

Sam shrugged modestly as he looked over at Dean, "I had to Dad… Dean's my brother."

The End.