So I have this folder on my computer of probably over a hundred different stories for Supernatural that I've written over the years, but I've never posted any of them, because Supernatural has been my favorite show since it came on when I was in middle school. It's what helped me escape some tragedies in my life, kind of like when people listen to music to escape, like I'm sure some of you can relate to. Anyways, I've always felt like I shouldn't post for Supernatural, for different reasons that aren't important to any of you, but I thought I'd go against my own will today and finally post just a small one-shot written forever ago and see if my heart breaks. Haha.

Takes place during Season 1.

Geek Boy

The soft clanks of Sam's fork broke in between the devouring sounds of Dean's chewing. The older hunter shook the dripping grease off his burger and took another bite despite the food already in his mouth and let out a satisfied 'mmm' escape in the scent of onions and ketchup. He watched his younger brother's nose crinkle up and placed his burger back down on his plate as if the only reason he ate like a starving man was to disgust his brother, and when he smacked his mouth around the chewed burger meat between his teeth causing Sam to drop his fork and lean back in the booth, he knew it was the majority of the reason.

He chuckled before swallowing thickly and running his tongue over his teeth.

"What's the matter, Sammy? You never seen a man eat a burger before?"

He waited to let the corner of his mouth slide up in a smirk until Sam displayed the glare he was expecting to come his way.

"Have you?"

Dean tried to look offended, but couldn't hide his grin completely. He leaned back against his side of the booth and grabbed his napkin off the table.

"Well, look, if it'll make you feel better, I'll put my napkin in my lap."

"Nice." The younger hunter said with an eye roll.

"So, just a regular salt and burn, huh?"

Sam nodded, pulling out the papers he had collected from the library that morning and placing them on the table. "Yeah."

"Awesome. We'll smoke this Williams guy and head on up to help Bobby with that shifter he's been trackin'." He noticed Sam start to protest and quickly added, "And see if he's heard anything from Dad."

Sam bitch-faced him, knowing the last part was added just for his benefit, but let the matter drop anyway and pulled out his wallet. "I'll pay. You get the tip. I don't have any cash on me. Have to use a card."

He pulled his own wallet from his pocket and sifted through it's contents before dropping four dollars on the table, a small white piece of paper showing between two of the bills.

Sam reached out and grabbed it. He turned it over and looked at it, snorting in the process. "What's this?"

Dean plucked it from his brother's fingers and looked at it for himself, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, man, you were quite the artist when you were little."

Sam chuckled and raised an eyebrow, silently asking his question again, having no memory of the piece of paper in his brother's hand.

Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth and began to explain.

Ten year old Dean Winchester sat sprawled out on Bobby Singer's ratty-old couch, trying his best not to aggravate his bruised ribs from the hunt the night before. Their Dad was back at it, taking down the evil son of bitch that sent Dean flying into bookcase ribs first, knocking the wind out of him, while Sam and himself stayed with their 'Uncle'.

Six year old Sam was in the floor, coloring or drawing on discarded pieces of paper from Bobby's desk, which the older Winchester desperately hoped weren't important, while Dean watched an old movie on TV with the sound turned up louder than necessary so his little brother couldn't hear Bobby working the phones for all of the hunters in the area.

Suddenly, Sam sprung up from the floor, tossing his broken crayons aside, and ran up to Dean. The older boy tensed, preparing for small hands to come up and land on his side, but was relieved when his brother just bumped into the couch and looked at him expectantly.

"Your big head is blocking the TV, princess." He said, without any real heat, but causing the smaller boy to frown. He chuckled and ruffled the kid's hair. "What is it, Sammy?"

"I drew you a picture." Sam replied, grinning just enough to show his dimples while holding out a piece of paper.

Dean took it, trying to hid the grimace of moving his ribs, and swallowed thickly as he noticed some old lore written on the back of the paper his brother handed him. He didn't mention it, partially because he didn't want Sam asking questions about monsters again and partially because what Bobby didn't know, they couldn't get in trouble for, and by the time he found out it was missing, they'd probably be halfway across the country.

He glanced up, noticing Sam's hopeful eyes, and turned it over to see a squiggly drawn picture of what he assumed was Sam, looking questionably taller than his actual size compared to the slightly leaning buildings and crooked Impala in the background. He had some kind of superhero cape tied around his neck and what could sort of pass as a sword if you squinted while looking at it, in his hand.

"Wow, Sammy. You look way cooler than Superman!" He boasted, silently hoping that that's what his brother was going for. Based on Sam's widening grin, he knew he had guessed right.

"It's to protect you! Like those weird pictures that Uncle Bobby and Daddy draws to protect us when they go to work."

Dean's breath caught in his throat for a fraction of a second, realizing that there would come a time when his little brother would know exactly what the 'weird pictures' meant and what exactly their Dad's 'work' was. He smiled a little forcefully and kept his gaze on the picture. "Two things. One: This is way better than the ones Dad and Uncle Bobby draw. Two: Since when do I need protecting, kiddo?"

"Since you got hurt helping Daddy yesterday."

Dean smirked, subconsciously wrapping an arm around his side while sitting up. He patted the couch next to him with the back of his hand that the picture was in and waited until Sam had climbed up on the couch, before dropping his arm around the kid's shoulder.

"I told you, Sammy, big brothers can't get hurt."

"Then why are you holding your side like it hurts, Dean?"

Dean chuckled and ruffled Sam's hair again. "You're too smart for your own good, geek boy." Sam twisted his face up at him, and Dean wondered just how much Sam really knew about the hunting life already. He looked back to the picture. "But I'll tell you what, if anybody was going to watch my back, I'd want it to be Geek Boy." He tapped a finger over the 'superhero' on the page and pulled his brother a little closer.

Dean stared at the picture a few more seconds before tucking it back into his wallet, trying to ignore the chick flick moment smile still molded into Sam's face. He took a swig of his coke, raising his eyebrows slightly at Sam's small response of 'hmm'.

"You've kept that all this time?"

Dean offered a one shoulder shrug, still conveniently drinking is coke to avoid continuing the chick flick moment. Sam laughed, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Well," he coughed a bit uncomfortably, "it's still true." Sam said and then stood from the table, fixing to go pay the bill at the counter, causing Dean to swallow quickly. "Hey, will you get me some pie up front?"

Sam gaped at him, having completely changed the subject, then just rolled his eyes and walked away.

"Sam?" He called after him, getting no response. "Geek Boy?" He called again, only turning back to his wallet to leave the tip money after his brother indicated with a hand gesture that he'd get him some pie.

AN: Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.