Summary: John was out on a hunt when the call came: Kate Milligan was dead, and John was named in her will as the guardian of her son—his son—Adam. Pissed but knowing his duty, Dean pulled Sam out school during exam week, and they went to Windom in the thick of the Minnesota winter. 7-yr-old Adam was a lot like Sammy at that age, but Dean wasn't ready to accept him as another Winchester. Then the boy's life was threatened and all bets were off.

Characters: Sam, Dean, Adam Milligan, Joe Barton
Genre/Main Pairing(s): kid-fic, case-fic/no pairing
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ≈29k

Contains: Drama, language, schmoop; teen!Dean, teen!Sam, wee!Adam, protective!Dean, protective!Sam

Written for: 2012 spn_illuminated's Round 2 challenge. A reverse mini-bang where the art comes first, and the word count is low (min. 4,000). Obviously, I ignored that last part.

Betas: Once again, I was lucky enough to have rince1wind and alecto nyx agree to beta my story. They were wonderful, as always.

Original Prompt: 'Child's Play' by tattooeddevil.

The art is available at tattooeddevil's art masterpost. Go to my livejournal account (www etrix. livejournal. com) to find it.

Prologue

Dean's cell phone rang.

He stared at it for a moment before he flipped it open. Not many people had the number. Dad had only gotten it for him last year, after a hunt that lasted a month longer than planned. He pretended the excitement he felt was anticipation, not fear. This wouldn't be that phone call; the one that said John wasn't ever making it home again.

"Hello?" he said, carefully not giving a name like his dad had trained him.

"Oh, hi. Is this Dean Winchester?" asked a voice Dean didn't recognize. It was deep and fluid, like Darth Vader or Barry White, but with more than a hint of America's northern Plains in its accent.

"Yeah. This is Dean," he confirmed. "And you are?"

"I doubt my name means much to you, but it's Joe Barton. How's the weather there, down where you're at?"

Dean pulled the phone away from his ear. Some strange dude had phoned him to chat about the weather? "It's, uh, fine. Thanks. What're you calling about?"

"Oh, yah. Um, I met your father about seven years or so ago, now," said Joe Barton. The hesitation in the guy's voice sounded odd in those rich bass tones. "I tried calling him, but his message told me to phone you."

"Yeah, he's working," Dean said. "Remote area, you know how it is."

"Paying work, or, ya know, his other work."

Okay, Dean thought, who was this guy? He'd bet money that Joe Barton wasn't a Hunter, yet he knew that what John Winchester hunted. Or maybe not… Dean considered the likelihood that his dad had been involved in some shady dealings and decided to ask a different question.

"Does it make a difference? If you need his help with something –" He stopped, realizing there wasn't anything he could do. Dean was stuck here with Sammy because the princess had exams and refused to go anywhere, and because his dad had ordered him to look after his brother. Again. Always.

"I know a couple guys I can call," he offered.

"Oh jeez, no; nothing like that. No more ghouls hanging around, so there's nothing to worry about there, no." The caller gave a soft laugh. "Actually, if it's not too much trouble, I'm calling about your brother."

"You're calling about Sam?" Dean was completely confused.

"No, not Sam," the guy interrupted. "I'm talking about Adam. Your other brother."