Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor any of it's Characters. I write purely for fun, not profit ^_^

Contains Wincest, so don't like don't read. Cheers!

Sam began to pick up his books and shove them in his bag, feeling tired. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep last night. Bad dreams seemed to be a reoccurring thing with Sam. Ever since his Dad had left. Left being a bit of a cop out, he had died. But Sam couldn't even bring himself to think the words "my Dad is dead", let alone say them to anyone. Especially his big brother Dean.

"Don't forget class, your paper on the Industrial Revolution is due in on Friday." said Mr Applebee, cleaning his glasses methodically.

Sam looked up as he pulled his bag over his shoulders to see a guy that must have been a few years older than Sam staring at him from the other side of the class. The guy smiled tentatively at Sam and he responded by smiling warmly at him. Sam didn't have many friends in this school, Dean had never let him out his sight. So damn over protective.

As Sam shuffled himself out of the class he felt a hand on his shoulder gently pulling him round.

"Hey, wait a second," said the Boy who had smiled at him, holding out his hand. "I'm Jason, I'm new here,". Sam hesitated a second before taking his hand; maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be making friends with someone. The last time he had, little Timothy had moved away without even so much as a goodbye leaving Sammy friendless again. Not something he was eager to re-experience. What the heck, Dean can go shove his old "I told you so" up his ass, thought Sam.

"Hey, I'm Sam," Sam said, shaking the boys hand firmly. "Hey not being rude or anything but you seem a little old to be in this class?,".

Jason laughed, flashing his friendly blue eyes that Sam couldn't help but admire.

"Yeah, I'm 17. About two years too old for this class but hey, I missed a lot of schooling so," he casually, guiding Sam out of the classroom and down the hallway.

Sam didn't ask why, knowing all too well what it was like to want to keep secrets.

"Oh, I see. Well, listen I have to go and meet my brother, so I guess I'll see you tomorrow?," Sam asked hoping that Jason would say yes. It'd be nice to see a friendly face in this school for once.

"Sure thing Sammy. Catch ya later!," Jason replied grinning at him before turning to half run out of the school.

Sam sighed and called after him "It's Sam, not Sammy,". No one called him Sammy. 'Cept Dean. Only Dean can call me that though, Sam thought. Dean would probably flip if he heard someone else call Sam that. He was weird that way. That's big brothers for you, Sam guessed.

Sam reached the school car park, to see Dean leaning against the Impala. The closer he got, the more and more pissed off Dean looked.

"Hey Dean, what's up?," Sam asked, trying to sound as positive as possible. Being moody only made his brother more annoyed when he was in one of his moods.

"What's up?," Dean replied almost incredulously. "What's up is that I've texted you three times already Sammy asking if you were alright and you haven't even responded, all day!,".

"Well, that's because I have class, Dean," Sam said, trying to explain the obvious to his brother's reaction at Sam ignoring their daily texting ritual. "I can't just start playing with my phone in class,".

"Yeah and I've been at work all day doesn't mean I didn't find the time to worry my ass off about you," Sam snapped back. He sighed and rub the bridge of his nose. "Just get in the car Sammy, lets go home.,".

Dean opened the passenger door for Sam, and Sam scrambled in happy that he'd avoided a fight while he was feeling so tired.

Silence ensued on the drive home. Dean stilled looked pissed when they got back to their small, two bedroom bungalow so Sam kept his mouth shut and started working on his assignment. Sitting on the couch in the small living room, taking the books out of his bag, he could just about see Dean cooking dinner in the kitchen.

He had taken off his work overalls and had a white wifebeater on covered in oil from his work at the garage. Sam began to notice how Dean's firm muscles move and bulged as he chopped vegetables. And how wide his shoulders were. And just how sexy he looked from behind.

Damnit Sam, stop! That's your brother, Sam thought disgusted with himself. It wasn't the first time he'd had thoughts like that about Dean. He couldn't count the amount of times he beaten one out over his brother. He always felt ashamed at himself afterwards

"You know, it's the anniversary of Dad's death tomorrow Sammy," Dean called out quietly, snapping Sam out of his thoughts. "Do you wanna skip school and stay home? I'll stay off work and stay home too, if you want,".

"No Dean, I'm going into school tomorrow. I don't wanna do anything for it okay? I just want it.. Want it to be a normal day," Sam said, trying hard not to think about the day his father had died.

Sam was 13 and he'd been waiting for days for his Dad to come home from a hunt. Sam had rushed up to his Dad, hugging his legs and breathing him in.

He had spent the night talking to Dean and Sam about his hunt, laughing and smiling. Everything seemed perfect and right in the world to Sam that night. The next day, he had woken up to Dean telling him that they had to go, that Dad had died.

Sam had never really figured out how it happened. Whenever he asked Dean always told him that he'd died in his sleep, Dean had found him and buried him before cops could find out and try to put Sam in care and split the two brothers up.

"Okay but I really think..." Dean trailed off, walked over and pulled Sam into a hug as saw his little brother looked rather distressed and close to crying. "Hey, Sammy. Don't cry, it's okay. I'll say no more about it, 'kay?"

Sam nodded into Dean's shoulder. Dean was still about a foot taller than Sam but Dean always swore he'd sprout up. He felt safe in Dean's arms, protected.

"Hey Sammy. You know you're mine right?," Dean asked quietly. "You're mine and always will be.,".

Sam found this quite reassuring so he nodded once more into his big brother's shoulder.

Dean looked on as Sammy, his little Sammy slept in his bed, covers tucked up under his armpits. His breathing was heavy and his hair was everywhere. His small chest rising and falling evenly and calmly.

Gorgeous, so gorgeous, Dean thought, I love you so much Sammy, I'll never let anybody touch you. Only I can touch you.

"Mine..." Dean said firmly with a feral look on his face, lust in his eyes.