John pulled into the motel parking lot. He had been working on case and he left the fourteen year old Dean to watch his ten year old brother Sam. John trusted Dean to watch Sam. Dean had practically taken care of Sam since he was six months old. John helped but Dean was more of a father to Sam then John was to his own son.

John pulled into a parking spot and parked the Impala. He had been planning on giving the Impala to Dean when he was older. Dean loved the car more than he did. He figured Dean would take better care of the car then he was Sammy. And that was saying something.

Opening the trunk, John put away some weapons and took out some more ammo for his pistol and sawed off. He shut the trunk and went up to the door that his sons were staying in. John was excited to see his sons. It was the only reason he came home after every case. To see his baby boys. If it wasn't for them, John wouldn't be human. He would just work case from case trying to find his wife's killer and not eat, sleep, or drink.

Opening the door, John knew something was off. It was too quite. Dean was usually teasing his younger brother or the other way around. There was almost no sound. The only sounds he could hear was the TV and crying on the TV.

John dropped his bag by the front door and pulled out his pistol. He crept into the kitchen part of the motel room. Nothing. There were dishes everywhere. It was always like that when the boys were alone. John looked through the trash and saw the usual food and trash. Banana peels, orange peels, granola wrappers, peanut M&M wrappers. The usual food the boys ate.

Pressing on, John checked his bedroom. Nothing. His bed was neatly made and nothing had been disturbed. John heard the TV go from commercial to commercial. The crying had kept on. He had assumed that the crying was on the TV. Apparently he was wrong.

He stood in front of the boys' room and put the muzzle of the gun on the door. He pushed the door open with the muzzle. He stood there for a moment and then crept into the room. John looked around. It was the typical room for the boys. Dean's side was a mess. Sam's was neat and tidy. Dean's was usually a messy clean but it was never this clean. John glanced around the room again and saw a lump in the corner of the room.

"Sammy? Dean?" John called out to the lump. He wasn't sure who it was. If it was Sam, Dean would be comforting him right now. Not letting John near Sam. If it was Dean… wait, Dean never cried. Never. It was always Sam. Dean would tease Sam and call him a baby which only got more tears from his baby brother.

"Sam?" John called out again. He saw the lump shift its position. John knelt behind the lump and placed his hand gently on it's shoulder. "Sam? What's wrong?"

Sam turned around and buried his face into John's chest. "Dad." Sam cried. John hesitated for a moment but then patted Sam's back.

"Sam? What's wrong?" John asked again. "Where's Dean?" When Sam didn't answer, John pressed for more answers. "Sam? Where's Dean?"

Sam shook his head. "I dun-n-no." Sam cried. He wasn't going to break his promise to Dean.

"Dammit Sam, where's Dean?" John asked angry.

Sam cowered in his father's arms. "I don't know!" Sam cried back. He pulled himself away from John and flattened himself against the wall. Sam desperately wished for Dean to be here. He desperately wished that his older brother was here to comfort him instead of his own father. Sam loved his dad but he loved Dean a little bit more.

"Well, when was the last time you saw him?" John asked angry at Sam and himself. Angry at Sam for not knowing where Dean was. He was angry at himself for scaring Sam.

"Yesterday." Sam answered.

John nodded. There hadn't been any forced entry or no struggle. Sam didn't look hurt so there was no kidnapping or anything like that. "What happened yesterday?"

Sam tore his gaze away from John. He looked down at the ground. "Sam?" John asked again. "Sam you answer me." Sam muttered something. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."

"I don't remember," Sam answered. Oh Sam remembered. He remembered very well. He remembered what Dean had said and what Dean had done before he disappeared. He remembered what he promised him.

John narrowed his eyes at Sam. "Don't lie to me Boy." John said. "Look at me." Sam didn't return his gaze to John's face. "Look at me boy." Sam looked up but turned his head away immediately he saw the anger on John's face. "Dammit, Sam, look at me." Sam pressed himself harder into the wall and kept his gaze on John.

"Where is your brother?"

"I. Don't. Know." Sam said through clenched teeth. Tears were starting to fall down his face again.

John sighed. "Was he taken by anyone? Anything?" Sam shook his head. "He ran away didn't he?" John asked slowly when he realized why Dean's side of the room looked different. His clothes weren't thrown everywhere. His personal belongings were gone. His backpack was done. His shoes were gone. John turned his gaze back to Sam. "He ran away?" Sam hesitated then nodded.

"Dammit," John muttered and left Sam cowering against the wall.

XxXxXx

After John left the room, Sam sunk to the ground. He curled up into a ball. He bit back his tears but that didn't stop them from falling. He was only ten after all. Getting yelled at like that by his dad scared him. Sam had been left alone for more than a day. Dean had promised him that he would never leave Sam alone. Never ever. He had broken that promise. Sam put his forehead onto his knees. Tears leaked down his face as he remembered what Dean had said.

"I'm sick of it!" Dean shouted throwing a tennis ball at the wall.

"Sick of what Dean?" Sam asked looking up from the TV show he was watching.

Dean growled. "Dad leaving his as he goes and kills monsters. Why can't we go with him?" Sam wasn't going to say anything. Dean did this a lot and it was best to just let him get it out of his system. "I'm sick of Dad dropping us off like this! I'm sick of having to act older then I am. I'm sick of having to look after you!" Dean shouted at Sam. When he said, he wish he could take it back. Tears welled up in Sam's eyes and he burst out crying. Dean rushed over to his brother. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that Sammy. I'm sorry." Dean tried to gather Sam up in a hug but he was only pushed away.

"Get away from me!" Sam shouted running into their room.

Dean knocked on the door. "Sammy, lemme in. I need to get something." Sam, only being ten, fell for it. Dean stepped in and hugged his little brother. "I'm sorry."

"No you aren't." Sam mumbled through Dean's shirt.

"Yes I am."

"No you aren't. If you're sorry, you wouldn't have said it." Sam muttered.

Dean rubbed Sam's back. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated with Dad. He makes me act older then I am. He gives me responablilites that a boy my age shouldn't have. I was forced to grow up too soon." Dean was getting angrier. He made himself stop hugging Sam so he wouldn't hurt him. "I'm tired to killing things that go bump in the night. I'm tired of Dad dropping us off and not coming back for days." Dean stomped over to his side of the room. He picked up his backpack and started stuffing it with random things.

"What are you doing Dean?" Sam asked getting up on his bed.

"I'm running away." Dean grumbled.

Sam choked back a sob. "What about me?"

"You can take care of yourself until Dad get's back. He'll be back tomorrow." Dean said zipping up the backpack. "Don't tell Dad what happened. I don't want to be found." Dean hugged Sam and kissed the top of his head. "I love you Sammy."

Sam stayed cool until the motel door shut and locked. Then, he broke down.