Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

A/N: Due to the fact that like I feared I was a bit too vague in my first chapter here's another small chapter making it a little less vague... hopefully.

A/N 2: Sorry it's been so long since the first chapter and this one.

Sam had just gotten home from a long day of school, he make sure to go to his room before he deposited his jacket and backpack on the floor. If he left it in the family areas he knew he would never hear the end of it from his Dad. Fortunately for him at the moment Dean and their Dad weren't home, Sam remembered that they were working on a case. Sam was glad that they weren't home yet because he wanted to get some homework done before his Dad made him and Dean spar or run like he always did when his Dad got home. His Dad claimed it was to prepare them to make sure they had the skills for what was to come. Sam wasn't fond of monster fighting though, it was scary and usually ended up with someone in his family being hurt.

He shook his head, shaking his head of the thoughts he didn't want to think about. He took his books and notebooks out of his backpack and put them on the desk that he and his brother shared. Dean hardly ever used the desk though, because he hardly ever did his homework. He knew that Dean didn't really see the point since Dean had already accepted that he was going into the family business. He opened his math book and wondered if he would end up leaving this one in a motel room like he had done to the last three. He shook his head and started on his homework.

He had gotten halfway done with his math when his stomach reminded him that it wanted to eat. He left his homework where it was and went into the kitchen, where he searched the cupboards for anything edible to eat. Trying to find something to eat was like a game, he checked the cupboards and found them all empty. He checked the fridge and found cheese but no bread or anything to put the cheese on. He checked the freezer and gave a silent cheer as he finally found something edible in the form of a frozen burrito. He grinned as he plucked the burrito from the freezer, undressed it, put it on a plate and put it in the microwave.

A couple of minutes later the burrito was done and Sam took it out of the microwave, he sat down at the table ready to dig in when the door opened. He looked to see who it was automatically, he saw his Dad and he looked back at his burrito. He heard his Dad coming towards him and he looked up and saw his Dad's eyes flicker over him and the burrito his Dad barked.

"That's why you can't keep up with your brother." John said pointing at the burrito in front of him. "If you can't keep up with your brother, then how are you supposed to protect him?" John said and then walked away. Sam froze from what his Dad had said to him and didn't unfreeze until Dean came in moments later. Dean paused and Sam could hear him sniff the air, Dean looked at his burrito with desire and then walked past him to the freezer and then Sam heard a groan.

"Dude is that the last one?" Sam stared between the burrito and his brother who looked wistfully at his burrito.

"You can have it." Sam didn't want it because he no longer felt hungry. Dean grinned sat down next to Sam and pulled over his burrito.

"Thanks Sam." Dean said with his mouth full.

It was a week later and they had moved yet again. Sam was doing his homework at the table since his new room didn't have a desk. He didn't like doing homework in the kitchen because the kitchen was surrounded by food. Food was the enemy, food had made him fat and the fatter he was the less he could protect his family.

The last week had cemented that in his mind, a week of turning his father words inside out. It wasn't just his words either, he remembered other things like when he and Dean would wrestle and Dean would say that Sam weighed a ton. Or the way other kids would look at him when he ate, like he was eating too much. Things he mostly forgotten about were now at the forefront of his mind and had lead him to the conclusion; food was the enemy.

He heard the door open and he looked up momentarily to see his father walk into the room, close the door and took off his jacket. His Dad was holding a plastic bag in his right hand that smelled delicious. Sam looked back down at his essay that he writing for English purposefully trying to ignore the glorious smell that his stomach craved and longed for.

His Dad put KFC down on the table, right on top of his books. Sam hurriedly moved it before the grease seeped into them. It smelled so good, and he was so hungry, so very hungry. But he wouldn't eat, he was fat and he couldn't be fat, not anymore.

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