Watch Out For Sammy

Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to the amazing Eric Kripke and the very fine people of Warner Brothers/The CW. I am merely playing in their sandbox. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's note: This is my first attempt at writing a younger Dean and Sam story. In this one, Dean is 11 and Sam is 7. There will be mentions of parental spanking in this fic, but no details. Just so you know.

Dean was waiting outside of Sam's classroom when the final bell of the day rang. He had an arrangement with his teacher that allowed him to leave his own classroom early enough to make sure that he was there when Sam came out of his classroom. All it cost him was the pain and agony of sitting still in his seat and not distracting his classmates during his teacher's lectures on American History. His teacher, Mr. Daniels, thought he was getting the better end of the bargain, but Dean knew better. He would do anything to be able to look out for his little brother.

The reason he found it so important to be there when Sam's classroom door opened stemmed from something that had happened at their last school. Dean had no idea at the time, of course, but something his dad was hunting in the town they were in had set his eyes on Sammy. John didn't know this either, but he was paranoid enough to make sure Dean knew the importance of never leaving Sam alone.

Sam knew he wasn't supposed to leave the classroom by himself, either, but one afternoon his teacher had ushered him out of the classroom before Dean had arrived. Those few minutes of being left alone in a rapidly emptying corridor was all it took for the shapeshifter to make his move. If Dean hadn't been running as fast as he could to make it to his brother's classroom, he wouldn't have seen his brother walking off with the principal, Mr. Morrison. And if Dean hadn't been called into the principal's office just an hour before for acting up in class, he wouldn't have known that the man was leaving immediately for a dentist appointment.

So, what was he doing leading Sam off down the corridor?

"Sam!" Dean yelled as he ran towards his little brother. "Sam, where are you going?"

Sam turned around at the sound of Dean's panicked voice and tried to pull away from Mr. Morrison. Dean could only watch as the man gripped his brother's arm even tighter.

"Mr. Winchester, your brother is coming with me."

"No, he's not! Sam, come here!"

By this time, Sam was starting to cry and Dean felt like joining him. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew that the man holding onto his brother wasn't Mr. Morrison. And he knew he had to do whatever he could to get his brother away from him. Running forward, he grabbed Sam's other arm and pulled as hard as he could. The man looked surprised at what was happening, but he wasn't about to give up so easily. Neither was Dean.

Dean kicked the man in the shin as hard as he could while continuing to pull on Sam's arm. The man let out a string of curse words as Dean went in for a second kick. Before he could do anything else, Dean swept the man's feet out from under him, causing him to drop to the floor. Unfortunately, he took Sam down with him.

Dean didn't waste any time, though. Moving in quickly, he grabbed Sam around the waist and pulled him to his feet. Before he took off down the hall, he aimed one more kick at the man who was trying to get to his feet, landing his shoe squarely in the middle of the man's back.

By the time Dean and Sam were rounding the corner, a crowd of people were heading in their direction, obviously led there by the sounds of Sam's cries.

"Dean! Sam! What's going on?" Sam's teacher yelled as she took in the sight of them running frantically down the hall. She reached for Sam, but the little boy was latched onto his brother tightly. "Dean?"

"Someone tried to take Sammy, Miss Whitley! He grabbed him and took him away."

"Who was it?" she asked.

"It was Mr. Morrison," Sam sobbed. "He hurt me!"

"Mr. Morrison?" she asked incredulously.

"It wasn't him, Sammy. It just looked like him," Dean explained.

"Of course it wasn't Mr. Morrison," Miss Whitley said. "He wouldn't do something like that."

As the woman steered the two boys towards the office, a few of the other teachers took off down the hall, hoping to catch up with whoever had tried to take Sam. Dean allowed Miss Whitley to lead them down the hall, his hands grasping Sam tighter than ever. Now that his little brother was safe, he could feel the trembling starting to take over his body. Sam was still crying and Dean wanted to cry, too.

Once they were in the office, Dean sat down on a bench, letting Sam crawl up into his lap. Miss Whitley quickly informed the office staff of what had happened, instructing them to call the police and John Winchester, before turning back to Sam and Dean.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt either of you?"

"He hurt my arm," Sam cried as he held out his arm for his teacher to see. Dean wasn't surprised to see Sam's upper arm covered in what was sure to be bruises very soon.

"How about you, Dean? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Dean answered.

"Dean…"

"I'm fine," Dean answered again. "I just wanna take my brother home."

At that moment, the school secretary came back out to tell Miss Whitley that it would be at least two hours before John Winchester could be there. "Well, it looks like we'll have to wait here for a while. Why don't we move down to the teacher's break room? It will be a little more comfortable there and we can maybe find some snacks."

"We can just go home," Dean said.

"Dean, you need to stay here until your dad gets here, okay? I can't send you home alone. Besides, the police will be here soon and they'll want to hear what happened."

"The police are coming?" Dean asked in a panic, knowing his dad wouldn't be happy with that.

"Sweetie, someone tried to hurt Sammy. The police need to know what happened so they can find the man that did this."

Dean knew he couldn't argue that point with her. She wouldn't understand that this wasn't something for the police to handle. This was definitely a job for a hunter.

By the time John Winchester showed up at the school, Sam had fallen asleep on the sofa in the teacher's lounge, his head resting comfortably in his brother's lap. Dean was exhausted himself, but no matter how tired he was, he wasn't about to take his eyes off of his little brother. Instead, he sat as still as he could, one hand gripping Sam's shirt, as he watched him sleep. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been late getting to Sam's classroom, none of this would have happened.

The police had already been there to question both of the boys and were still hanging around to talk to their dad when he arrived. Dean had been scared when they were questioning him, but he told them what had happened without admitting that the man looked exactly like Mr. Morrison. He knew that it wasn't the principal, but how could he explain to the cops that the man looked exactly like him? They wouldn't understand.

John barreled through the door, his eyes immediately falling on his boys. He wasn't surprised to see Sam sleeping soundly or Dean sitting protectively next to his brother, wide awake and alert. In fact, he would have been disappointed if that hadn't been the case.

"Dean?" he called out loudly. "Report!"

"Dad!" Dean gently worked his way out from under Sam's head, coming to stand up in front of his dad.

"What happened?" John growled.

"I'm sorry, Dad. It's all my fault."

"We'll talk about that later, son. I just need to know what happened."

Dean told his dad everything that had happened, looking around to make sure no one was close enough to hear him say that he thought it was some kind of monster that had taken Sam. John thought that maybe Dean was mistaken, his active imagination getting the best of him, but after Dean explained his reasoning, he was starting to believe him. Quickly turning to look at the young teacher that had been watching over his boys, he asked her where the principal was.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Winchester. Principal Morrison had a dental procedure scheduled for this afternoon. He left the school around 1:30 for his 2:00 appointment. He's been notified of what's happened, but he's at home recuperating from his procedure."

John spent the next twenty minutes talking with the police, getting caught up on what they were doing to catch the guy who had so easily walked into an elementary school without anyone questioning him. Eventually, he was ready to take his boys home, much to Dean's relief.

John walked over to the sofa and gently picked up his youngest son. Sam opened his eyes and stared sleepily up at his dad. "Daddy? Is that really you?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's me, kiddo. We're going home."

"Where's Dean?' Sam asked as he looked around.

"I'm right here, Sammy," Dean answered as he stepped out from behind his dad.

"Okay, we can go home now, Daddy." Sam snuggled further into his dad's chest, his eyes planted firmly on his brother as they walked out the door.

Once they were back in the motel room, John laid down the salt lines at the windows and door before opening up a few cans of ravioli. Dean led Sam into the bathroom to take a bath. Dean nearly cried when he saw the state of Sam's arms again. The bruises were really starting to show and they looked painful. Dean also noticed a bruise on Sam's left knee from when the man fell to the floor with him.

"That hurts," Sam said when Dean ran the wash cloth over his arm.

"I'm sorry, dude. I'll be more careful."

"My knee hurts, too, Dean."

"I know, Sammy. You have a big bruise right there."

"Why did Mr. Morrison try to take me away, Dean?"

Dean stopped washing Sam's back and looked him in the eye. "That wasn't Mr. Morrison, Sam. I already told you that, remember?"

"But he looked just like him!"

"I know he did, but it wasn't him. I promise."

"Is he gonna come back for me?"

"NO!" Dean yelled. "No, Sammy, I promise. I won't let him get you, okay? I promise."

"I'm scared," Sam sniffled.

"It's okay, Sammy. I'm right here. You don't have to be scared. And Dad's home, remember? He'll protect us."

Sam gave his brother a small grin. "Okay, Dean."

Dean quickly finished washing Sam and then pulled him out of the tub, enveloping him in a clean towel. After drying him off, Dean helped him into his favorite pajamas. "Let's go get some dinner, okay? Dad's waiting for us."

Dean led Sam into the small kitchenette, helping his brother get settled in his chair before settling himself into the one right next to him. John eyed both of his boys as he ladled ravioli into the bowls in front of them.

"Dean, there are a few cans of root beer left in the fridge. Can you get them?"

Dean quickly grabbed the root beer, returning to his brother's side as fast as he could. This, of course, didn't escape John's notice.

Once they were done with dinner, John allowed the boys to watch some TV while he stepped outside and made a few calls to Bobby and Caleb. Dean curled up on the couch with Sam right next to him. Sam wanted to watch a rerun of Scooby Doo that Dean had seen a hundred times, but he didn't have the heart to argue. Whatever made Sammy happy…

It wasn't long before Sam had fallen asleep again. Dean stared down at his little brother, anxiety creeping into him as he thought about what could have happened if that man had gotten away with his brother. Dean would never forgive himself for being late to pick Sam up. He knew his dad would be angry at him for that, too, but he didn't even care. In his mind, he deserved to be punished. He was responsible for Sam and it was his fault that the monster was able to get to him.

When John was finished making his calls, he walked back in to find Sam asleep and Dean watching his brother closely. He took a few seconds to take in the scene before him, wondering what he was going to do about the situation. He still didn't know the complete story from Dean, but with the way the kid was acting, he knew that Dean felt responsible for what had happened.

Stepping over to the couch, John ruffled Dean's short hair before gently taking Sam into his arms. "I'm just going to put him on the bed, son. And then you and I can have a little talk."

"Yes, sir," Dean answered quietly.

John placed Sam down on the bed he was sharing with his brother and pulled the blanket up around him. He bent down and gave Sam a kiss on the top of his head, not surprised when the kid didn't stir at all. Dean, on the other hand, had always been a light sleeper, waking up at the slightest movement. John knew that was partially his fault for always telling Dean it was his job to watch over his brother. And Dean usually did such a good job at that.

Stepping back over to the couch, John took a seat next to Dean. He grabbed the remote for the small TV and turned it off before turning to look at his son. Dean was staring down at his hands that were resting in his lap, his back as stiff as a board.

"Okay, kiddo….tell me what happened."

Dean started at the beginning, telling John that he had been late to pick up Sammy because his teacher asked him to stay after class for a few minutes. John didn't miss the fact that Dean glossed over the reason why he had been held back. Once Dean was finished, John had a few questions.

"What makes you think it wasn't actually Mr. Morrison, son? You and Sammy both said it looked exactly like him."

"It wasn't him, Dad. I saw him leave the school way before the bell rang. He had a dentist appointment."

"How did you see him leave the school if you were in class?"

Dean knew he had walked himself right into a corner with no way of escaping.

"Dean?"

"I…uh… I got sent to the principal's office," Dean admitted.

"For what?"

"Dad, it wasn't my fault. Jeremy Arnold wouldn't stop messing with Jordan, so I made him stop."

"What do you mean you made him stop? What did you do?"

Dean went back to staring at his hands, but John's command to bring his eyes up echoed in the small room. Quickly bringing his eyes up to meet his dad's, Dean continued.

"I told him to leave Jordan alone, but he wouldn't so I knocked his paper off of his desk. When he got up to get it, I…. um, I pushed his desk into him and he fell over. Mrs. Nichols saw me do it and she sent me to the office for dis… um, disrupting the class."

"We'll come back to that in a minute, Dean. Now, why were you so late getting to Sam's classroom?"

Dean's eyes fell again, but he swiftly brought them back up. "Mrs. Nichols wanted to talk to me about what happened. She said she was disappointed that I chose to do that to Jeremy and she assigned me some extra homework. It was only a few minutes, Dad. And then I ran all the way to Sam's classroom as fast as I could. Usually Miss Whitley lets him stay in the room until I get there, but she didn't today. Sam said she had a meeting to go to or something."

John ran his hand over his face and through his hair. He had no idea how to handle this situation, so he was at a total loss as to what to do. But, looking at Dean's crestfallen face, he knew he had to do something. Before he could make up his mind or say anything, though, Dean did.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm really, really sorry. It's my fault that this happened to Sammy." Dean couldn't stop the tears that started down his face.

"Dean, this isn't your fault, okay? Who's to say the man wouldn't have just taken you both if he had the chance. It's not your fault that he tried to take Sammy."

"But, I should have been there, Dad. I should have been there when Sam walked out of that classroom. If I hadn't got in trouble, none of this would have happened."

"Dean, we don't know that. Like I said, he could have just taken both of you. But, you did misbehave today, so we do need to talk about that."

"Yes, sir."

"Dean, how many times have I told you that you need to control your impulses? If you're going to be a hunter, you have to be able to control yourself, son. You can't get angry and do the first thing that comes to mind. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answered miserably.

"How many times have we had this conversation, son?"

Dean shrugged, but quickly answered after John cleared his throat in irritation. "I don't know, Dad. A lot?"

"Yeah," John sighed. "A lot." John knew that his oldest was going to be a phenomenal hunter one day, but the boy definitely needed to learn how to control his impulses. It was one thing to have good instinct and good reflexes, but impulsivity could be downright dangerous if not controlled.

"And what did I say would happen if we had to have this conversation again?"

"Dad…" Dean groaned.

"Dean, you know how I feel about having the same conversations over and over again. You need to learn, son."

"I'm sorry, Dad. It won't happen again, I promise."

"Let's make sure of that, okay?"

John hated to spank his boys, but he'd do it again and again if he thought it would work to keep them alive. Neither Sam nor Dean was a stranger to being taken over his knee. Especially Dean. John figured he and Mary should have just used Trouble as a middle name for their firstborn.

John was definitely not one to lecture while he was spanking, but he always made sure the boys knew why they were being punished. This time, John wanted to make sure that Dean knew he was only being punished for his misbehavior in the classroom and that it had nothing to do with the fact that some monster had tried to kidnap Sam. After explaining this as clearly as he could to his son, John wasted no time in getting the job done. More than anything, he wanted to be able to put Dean to bed, so he could figure out what the hell had happened that day.

By the time John was done, Dean was crying quietly. He didn't think he had been too harsh with the boy and knew that Dean's tears were mostly from the guilt he felt from the day's events. John had no idea how to get Dean to believe that he wasn't at fault for what happened. He had hoped that punishing him would alleviate some of it, but he wasn't sure that had happened.

Dean wasn't usually one to allow a lot of post-spanking comfort from his dad, but this time he allowed himself to be pulled in for a hug. John gave Dean a few minutes to collect himself before pulling himself away. Looking down at Dean, though, he could tell that the boy still felt guilty.

"Dean, I want you to listen very closely to me, okay? I know I expect a lot from you. I know I tell you over and over again to watch out for your brother and I know you take that job really serious. And you do a great job of it. You're always looking out for him and I'm really proud of you, kiddo. You take care of him when I can't and I'm sorry you have to do that. I know it's not fair, but it is what it is, right?"

Dean gave a slight nod of his head, showing that he was listening.

"I know you didn't mean to get in trouble today and I know you would never do anything to put Sam in harm's way. You made a mistake and you were punished for it. That's it. End of story."

Dean still didn't look convinced, so John tried another tact.

"Dean, would you be feeling so guilty if you had arrived on time to Sammy's classroom and the man was still there to try to take him?"

"No, sir," Dean answered quietly.

"So you feeling guilty is all because you weren't where you were supposed to be because you got into trouble, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, then. I want you to remember this lesson the next time you find yourself in a situation like this. If anything, it will prevent you from being late again which will prevent you from feeling guilty. Do you think you can do that?"

"I'll try, Dad," Dean said sincerely.

"I know you will, kiddo. Now, what do you say you take a quick shower and head to bed? It's been a long day."

"Yes, sir."

Before Dean could leave, John pulled him in for another hug. "Don't forget to brush your teeth."

"I won't," Dean said. "We have the good toothpaste now, instead of that crap you bought the last time."

"Watch your mouth, boy," John said with a smile as he watched Dean take off for the bathroom.

By the time Dean crawled into bed next to his brother, John was outside again, making more phone calls. Dean knew that his dad was really worried about whatever it was that had tried to take Sammy. He also knew that the man would do whatever he could to protect his sons.

Dean crawled under the blanket and settled himself quickly. He was just about to doze off when Sam rolled over and curled up against him, his cold feet somehow making their way under the hem of Dean's t-shirt. Dean moved himself away, turning to face his brother in the process. He was surprised to see Sam's eyes staring at him, glowing somewhat in the moonlight that was streaming in through a break in the window curtain.

"What are you doing awake, Sammy?"

"I heard you crying, Dean. Are you okay?"

"I'm good, Sam."

"Did Daddy spank you, Dean?" Sam very rarely heard his brother cry and the times he had were usually when Dean was being punished.

"Come on, dude," Dean tried to change the subject. "Why don't I read you a story so you can go back to sleep?"

"I don't want a story," Sam said sullenly. "Why did Daddy spank you, Dean? Is it because you weren't there to pick me up? Because that's not fair."

"That's not why, Sammy. I got in trouble at school, okay? Mrs. Nichols sent me down to the principal's office. That's why Dad punished me."

"What did you do?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Can we just go to sleep? It's been a long day."

"Okay," Sam said. He was quiet for several minutes, but just as Dean was dozing off, he spoke again. "Thanks for saving me, Dean."

Dean felt another surge of guilt shoot through him at Sam's words, thinking that he wouldn't have had to save his brother if he had just been there on time. Pushing that guilt aside, he looked down at Sam. "That's what I'm here for, Sammy. It's my job to watch out for you, remember?"

Author's note: Well, I thought I'd try my hand at a little Weechester story. Not sure if this will be just a one-shot or maybe more. What do you all think?

Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story and whether or not I should continue. And for those of you reading Meet Me on the Battlefield, I should have another chapter up by Christmas.