Dean grinned when he caught sight of his little brother exiting through the front doors of the elementary school.

It took a moment for Sam to see him, his green eyes searching the crowd of kids around him as though he had x-ray vision, but as soon as he spied Dean, the nine-year old came running.

"Hey Squirt," Dean greeted as his brother grabbed him in a hug.

"Hey Dean," Sam replied, releasing him and smiling up at him, allowing the fourteen-year old to take his backpack, "Is Dad back yet?"

The older sibling's smile faltered a bit and he shook his head.

Sam's gaze lowered sadly.

"But he's gonna make it for my birthday, right?" he asked his brother hopefully.

Dean sighed, slinging his brother's backpack over his shoulder, "I don't know, Sammy. He said he'd try but you know how he gets when he's on a hunt."

Sam nodded, kicking a rock down the sidewalk with his hand-me-down sneakers.

Dean, not able to see his brother upset, draped an arm over Sam's shoulders.

"So have you thought about who you'd like to invite? We can still have a bit of a party even without Dad."

The teen felt his brother's shoulders grow tense, letting know that his question had struck a nerve.

"Uh… I don't really know…" the nine-year old hedged.

Dean stopped walking, turned his brother so that Sam was facing him and peered into his face.

"You didn't ask anyone did you?"

Ignoring the people trying to move around them on the sidewalk- kids from the elementary school and their families- Dean waited for his brother to answer.

"Did you?"

Sam shrugged as though Dean's question didn't matter.

"I thought you liked it here," the fourteen-year old argued, "Yesterday all you could talk about this kid… Leon? Lewis?"

"Laszlo," Sam replied.

"Yeah," Dean encouraged, "What happened to him?"

Again Sam shrugged.

"Can we talk about this at the motel?"

Dean opened his mouth to argue but then he noticed his brother's shoulders trembling and he nodded, "Yeah, sure. C'mon Squirt."

Putting a comforting hand on the back of his brother's neck, the teen guided his sibling down the sidewalk in the direction of their current lodgings, mentally kicking himself for making Sam cry.

W

As soon as Dean locked the motel door he turned to his brother with an apology on his lips.

"Pete saw us here yesterday after school and told Laszlo and now he won't talk to me," Sam spoke without prompting.

"Laszlo said I was poor," the nine-year old continued, his eyes moist, "That I was dirty."

Dean didn't know what to say. Seeing his brother sitting on the rumpled motel bed, wearing hand-me-down clothes was a grim reminder that they weren't exactly swimming in money.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he said, "I didn't know."

Clearing his throat, Dean tried to cheer his brother up.

"Who needs those kids anyway? We've had birthdays by ourselves and they've turned out alright, yeah?"

Sam lifted one shoulder. Dean could see that it really did hurt Sam that no one wanted to be friends with him just because he didn't live in some cookie-cutter house with a white-picket fence.

"What do you want for your birthday anyway? You never did tell me?" Dean asked, knowing that Sam was going to say he wanted some book he'd seen in the school library.

"Dad," Sam replied, "I want Dad to be here on my birthday."

Dean opened his mouth then closed it, thinking that he shouldn't say anything. John had a habit of missing Sam's birthday, every year and somehow Dean didn't think that was accident.

The fourteen-year old smiled, "Why don't you get started on your homework and we can go for dinner, okay?"

Sam nodded and pulled a math textbook from his backpack.

W

"Are you going to be gone much longer?" Dean asked John, talking to his father from the pay phone outside the motel room while Sam did his homework.

"I don't know, Dean," John replied tiredly, "We still can't figure out what's killing these girls… I'd say I've been a few more days at the least… a week at the most."

"Dad," Dean said, trying hard not to growl, "Sam's birthday is the day after next."

John made no response.

"The only thing Sammy asked for," Dean continued, "Is to have you here with us. The only thing."

John sighed and Dean could hear the faint rasping sound of his father wiping a hand down his bearded chin, "People are dying, Dean! I can't just drop everything here to go see Sam. I'll be back in a few days."

"Dad," Dean argued, angry now, "It's one friggin' day of the year. Besides, you don't even have to stay, just come back for a few hours."

The fourteen-year old heard his father release a breath audibly, "Fine. I'll think about it."

Dean opened his mouth to speak again when all he received from the other end of the phone was the dial tone.

The young man peered at the phone for a moment before setting it back in its cradle, mad at his father.

Returning to the motel room, Dean plastered a smile on his face when Sam looked up.

"Did Dad say anything about my birthday?"

"He said he'd try to make it," Dean told his brother.

Sam nodded quickly and returned to his homework.

W

Sam's birthday dawned warm and bright. A clear blue sky greeted the Winchester brothers as they walked to school.

The younger sibling trudged, not looking forward to spending the day away from his brother but Dean walked with a spring in his step. He wasn't going to school. Instead, he had saved up some money especially for this day and was going to get the motel room ready for his brother before school ended.

The siblings paused in front of the elementary school, Sam reluctant to enter the building.

"Smile, Sammy," Dean encouraged, "It's your birthday."

The younger brother tried to do as his brother asked and the result wasn't as genuine as it should have been.

"Hey," Dean murmured, bending down so that he could whisper to his brother, "If that Laszlo kid gives you trouble, kick his ass, okay? No one messes with you and gets away with it, especially not today."

Sam nodded, gave his brother a quick hug and vanished into the building.

SPN

Sam tried to have a good day, he really did. It was actually starting to look up when he'd grabbed his lunch- in a brow paper bag- from his backpack and opened it up to see a chocolate bar with note from Dean taped to it.

Remember, today is your day. Don't let anyone get you down. Dean.

Sam smiled before taking out the rest of his lunch- a peanut butter sandwich and an apple- feeling like he could really forget about what everyone else thought about him.

After lunch, someone let it slip that it was his birthday and his teacher insisted everyone sing "Happy Birthday".

Sam stood in front of the class, feeling as though he was on display, wearing the party hat everyone had to wear on their birthday, wishing he could melt into the floor.

Staring out at the faces of his classmates, he noticed that Laszlo and a few other boys were not singing, just hiding their mouths behind their hands, sniggering.

As soon as the song had ended and the teacher simpered over him for a moment, Sam tried to slink back to his desk when the woman reminded him that he was allowed to pick something from the 'Treasure Chest', a cardboard box painted like an old pirate chest which contained goodies for the children on special occasions.

Sam smiled but the expression was stiff, like a rictus. He hated being the center of attention but of course, his teacher couldn't see that.

The teacher opened the box and smiled down at Sam as he stared at the items inside: Happy Meal toys, small stuffed toys, pencils, erasers, snack-sized bags of chips, cookies, crackers, or stickers.

Sam's hand hovered for a moment over the treats uncertainly.

From behind him he could hear sniggering and he quickly grabbed an item from the box without looking at it, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans, feeling a blush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks.

SPN

"Hey, Squirt," Dean greeted his brother as soon as school let out, Sam hurrying over to him.

Without even responding, the ten-year old began walking towards the motel.

"Hey, Sam!" Dean called, quickly catching up with him, "What's up? Are you okay?"

Sam shrugged and looked up at him, "Yeah."

The younger brother shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and his eyes widened in surprised. Pulling his hand out of one pocket, he peered at an object in his hand.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

Sam held the object up and showed Dean a small action figure- Batman- that looked as though it had been from a dollar store.

"Got it from my teacher," Sam muttered, "Do you want it?"

Dean shook his head, "You keep it."

Sam looked down at the small, cheaply made toy, "Why? You're Batman."

Dean chuckled and took the toy from his brother.

W

Dean insisted Sam close his eyes as they reached the motel room.

"Why?" Sam asked, covering his face with his hands.

"Because I said so," the teen answered good-naturedly.

Dean could see that his brother was excited though and he quickly opened the door, swinging it open to reveal the drab motel room decorated with a banner with rainbow colours that read 'Happy Birthday', streamers, a cake and plates, and a handful of newspaper wrapped packages sitting on the bed furthest from the door.

Sam stepped into the room and Dean told him to open his eyes.

Although it wasn't anything great, Sam turned to his brother and hugged him tightly.

"Thanks Dean," he muttered, face pressed against Dean's chest.

"Why don't you open your presents?" the teen suggested and even though Sam smiled, he shook his head, "I want to wait until Dad gets here."

The fourteen-year old opened his mouth, ready to tell his brother that their father wasn't coming but decided not to say anything. Instead he nodded, smiled and asked Sam if he wanted to have some cake while they waited for John.

SPN

John Winchester gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles. His eyes continually flicked back and forth between the road and the clock set into the Impala's dashboard.

He'd make it. He was sure of it.

He quickly glanced into the backseat, at a pile of books he'd picked up at a garage sale he'd passed, as though making sure they were still there and pressed his foot down harder on the gas pedal.

John didn't mean to ignore his youngest son; he really hated not being there for his children. It was the case he'd been working on, really, that had spurred him to action. Little girls, some as young as five-years old were vanishing from a nearby town and no one knew what had happened to any of them, no bodies had been found, which stumped John and the other hunter he was currently working with.

John had been prepared to miss Sam's birthday if it meant preventing something awful from happening to anymore children but the latest victim had been a girl who had just turned ten. Although it really had no connection to his son, John couldn't help but think of Sam and how would he feel if something happened to him, especially if he wasn't around to protect his child.

Since they still had no leads on the case, John had told his temporary partner that he needed to clear his head and so he had climbed into the Impala and began driving the half-hour distance to the city where his sons were.

SPN

Sam lay on his belly on his bed beside Dean, watching television.

It had been a great birthday, really, and Sam had told Dean so, but it was still missing one thing.

The little boy knew that John wasn't going to make it and although it didn't surprise him, it saddened him.

"Want the last of the cake, Sammy?" Dean asked, sitting up on the bed and looking longingly at the remainder of the baked treat.

Sam shook his head, "You can have it."

He smiled as Dean stood and made his way over to the table to polish off the cake and heard a familiar growling sound coming from outside.

Sitting bolt upright, Sam stared at the door. Even Dean stopped what he was doing and turned his attention away from the cake.

The sound suddenly stopped and for a long moment there was nothing.

Maybe I was just imagining it, Sam decided and made to lie back down when the door to the motel opened and there stood John on the threshold, arms laden with used books.

"DAD!" Sam cried and jumped off the bed, running to his father and grabbing him in a tight hug, causing the man to drop the books he held as he returned the embrace.

"You came!" Sam said, feeling his eyes prickle with tears.

"You're my son," John rumbled, "I wouldn't miss your birthday for anything."

All three Winchesters knew that was a lie but they could ignore that, at least for today, at least while they were all together.

Author's Note:

Written for my sister, BerserkerHellhound, for her 23rd birthday.

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