Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, I just wish I do!

My first Wee!chester fic, Sam is six, Dean is ten.

The first rays of sunshine pulled Sam from his dreams, and he automatically tightened his fist on Dean's shirt to reassure himself that his brother was still there. Satisfied, he sat up and stretched him arms high above his head, closing his eyes tightly before opening them and looking down at Dean. Dean was still asleep, his breath whispering slightly against the pillow. Staying as quiet as he could, Sam slid out of the bed and slipped out into the other room.

He was surprised - no, shocked to see John Winchester staring blankly into a cupboard, up and dressed, a bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other. He turned as Sam arrived and a wry smile twisted his mouth.

"Hey, Sammy. You can't tell me that you and Dean have been eating those?" He gestured to the box of Lucky Charms in the cupboard. "They're a week out of date."

"They taste nice."

John laughed and closed the cupboard door. "I thought I'd go out and get some decent breakfast for you boys before you woke up, though I guess its a little late for that. Is Dean still asleep?"

Sam nodded.

"Thought so. The painkillers will have slowed him down a lot."

Sam was still going over what his Daddy had just said, his heart leaping hopefully. "Are we going out, Daddy?" he asked eagerly. "Can we? Into town?"

John hesitated. "Maybe at the weekend, Sam." Then, as Sam's face fell, "But you can come and get some breakfast with me if you want. Would you like that?"

Sam nodded, clapping his hands. "Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

"Shh!" John cautioned, nodding towards Dean's room. "Dean's asleep, remember? Go get changed, and we'll go before he wakes up."

Sam ran back into his room, collected some clothes and then locked himself into the bathroom. He got changed and brushed his teeth - although he left the toothpaste tube soaking wet and jammed down the plug hole - and washed his face. Then he bounded back to his Daddy, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Ready, Daddy? Ready now?"

John grinned at Sam's energy. "Yeah, c'mon. Quickly, or Dean will wake up before we get back."

Even more excited now that there was a time limit, Sam skittered out the door and ran to the Impala, waiting impatiently for his Daddy to join him.

"Daddy, can we get bacon?" he asked. "Dean likes bacon. He told me."

"Okay."

"Can we get egg? Yellow egg?"

"Sure, Sam."

"And, and, and!" Sam added, bouncing again. "And, can we get ice cream?"

John laughed. "Maybe. We'll see."

SWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDW

Dean was sure that he was dreaming. He could smell bacon cooking, hear it sizzling over the heat. But surely if he was dreaming there would be mouthwatering pictures to go with the smells... he moved his arm, and realized with a jolt that Sam wasn't there. He opened his eyes quickly, wincing as sunlight slammed into his face.

I'm turning into a vampire... Dad's gonna have to hunt me... its all there, aversion to sunlight, wandering around by night...

He sat up slowly, letting out a small hiss as his head throbbed. It wasn't nearly as bad as the day before, though. Or earlier that day. Or last night... he gave up and looked over at Sam's bed. Concern took root in his stomach as he realized that Sam wasn't there either. He opened his mouth to call out for him, but then suddenly realized that he could still smell the bacon.

What the...?

He rose to his feet, the room spinning around him, and moved over to the door with one hand on the wall. He swayed to a halt and pulled the door open, finding it strangely hard to focus. Again, it was better than before, but still not exactly comfortable.

For a few moments he was sure that he was hallucinating. Then he decided that he must be going mad, that the knock over the head had sent him insane. Finally he decided that he didn't care because the bacon smelled too damn good.

Across the room, his Dad was frying bacon on the small stove. Sam was jumping eagerly around him, asking if he could have a go. On the table there was already a plate with bacon and a fried egg laid out on it.

"For the last time, you can't work the stove Sam," John Winchester was saying. "You can put the food out on the plates, but you can't go near the hot places, okay?"

"But I want to!"

"Why don't you go see if Dean..." John's voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Dean leaning heavily on the doorway of his room. "I mean, say hello to Dean."

Sam spun around, and then threw himself at Dean.

"Sam!" John said sharply, and Sam skidded to a halt. "Be careful."

"S'okay," Dean replied, touching the gauze on the back of his head. "I feel better today."

Sam stepped gingerly towards him and hugged him so carefully that Dean was sure Sam thought he was made of glass. He patted his little brother on the head, messing up his hair, and Sam grinned again.

"Sit down, Dean," John said, slipping the food onto two more plates. "I made breakfast."

Dean couldn't help but notice the sliver of pride in his Dad's voice, and abruptly saw a resemblence to Sammy. And... had his father just told him to sit down because he had made breakfast? Dean took a moment to pinch himself, and then check for an eye flare. Nope. It was definitely happening.

Bemused, Dean made his way over to the table and sat down. Sam ran over to the stove and John deposited a plate in his hands. He trotted back to Dean and dumped it in front of him.

"We made it," Sam told him, lifting his chin.

"Yeah, looks great, Sammy," Dean replied, still keeping one eye on John, who was moving over to join them with his own plate. He raised an eyebrow, and his Dad looked a little embarrassed.

"I thought it'd be nice," he said, shrugging one shoulder. "I mean, for a change. You know. Well."

Hilarious, Dean thought, grinning. His Dad could take down monsters and evil creatures but give him a plate of bacon and egg and he's completely awkward. Dean could just about remember the last time they had eaten a breakfast like this as a family, but that was when Mum had been there. She had made the food. And she hadn't burned it, he added silently, poking at the food with his fork. But the fact that they were even having this time together meant that it didn't matter if the food was burnt or not.

"Dean? You don't like it?"

He looked up at Sam, torn from his thoughts. Sam was watching him anxiously, obviously waiting to see if he liked it or not. Dean grinned quickly.

"Yeah, yeah, I love it," he said, shooting a glance at his Dad. "Its great, Sam."

He cut off a bit of bacon and put it into his mouth, and a smile spread over Sam's face as he chewed. He put on an approving expression, and Sam grinned, his own mouth full of egg.

"School's soon," Dean observed, glancing at his watch. "Do I still have to go in?"

"No," John replied shortly, shaking his head. "But we're still going there. You'll have to point him out for me."

"Who?"

John smiled dangerously, his eyes glittering. "Tom Jones, of course."

SWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDW

Dean's head was still spinning a little when his Dad stopped the Impala outside the school gates, but he kept a smile on his face to keep Sam happy. Still, as the car rolled to a halt, Dean felt a small sense of dread. What if Jones wasn't even there? Or if some teacher came out and asked what the hell his Dad was doing? What the hell was his Dad going to do? He pushed the Impala's door open and eased himself carefully up to his feet. Sam slipped out behind him, his eyes wide with excitement.

"I think Joey was going to bring in his action men today. Do you think he really will? Do you think Stacey will bring in sweets 'cos its her birthday?"

"Yah, probably, Sam," Dean replied, distracted.

He was looking around the playground nervously. So far, there was no sign of Tom Jones anywhere. Abruptly, Sam left his side and sprinted across the concrete, yelling out, 'Stacey! Stacey, can I have one?"

"Sam!" Dean made a grab for him, but his head span and he took hold of the car for support.

"Dean?" he felt his Dad's hand on his arm and looked up, wincing. "I'm fine, just moved a little too fast." He nodded to the playground. "Sam ran off."

"Well, we'll go and get him."

Dean put out a hand to stop him, one eyebrow raising. "Uh, Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Your, uh, your gun."

John Winchester looked blankly down at the gun poking out of his jeans. "What about it?"

Dean shot a meaningful glance at the parents saying goodbye to their children, and understanding dawned on his father's face.

"Oh. Of course. Uh... right."

He turned and strode over to the back of the car to put his gun away. Dean turned and headed towards Sam alone, this time keeping his pace slow. He reached his brother, who was admiring another boy's action man, and touched Sam's shoulder.

"We're not going in today, remember Sam?"

"Oh, yeah. But I just wanted-"

"To look at stuff you can't afford?"

Dean's heart sank. Slowly, he turned and looked up at Tom's cold eyes, his head throbbing. At his side, he felt Sam's hand slip into his own and held it tightly.

"Hey, Tom," he said, keeping his voice strong. He touched the back of his head. "Thanks for this, by the way. Real honourable, leaving me in that alleyway to rot."

Tom didn't even look guilty, he just grinned. "Just what you deserve, Winchester."

"Dean," Sam whimpered. "I wanna go now."

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but before he could someone called his name from across the playground. He looked up to see his Dad walking towards them, thankfully free from his gun. Dean glanced at Tom, noticing a wary expression flicker across his face.

"You Tom Jones?" John asked, stopping beside Dean.

Tom hesitated, looking away. "I, uh, have stuff to do."

"So you are. You think its funny, attacking someone from behind and then leaving them to die? You think that's clever?"

He took a step forwards, and Tom flinched back, his eyes widening. "I... I..."

"Let me tell you something, kid," John snarled. "If you ever touch either of my children again, if you ever even look at them wrong, I will peel the flesh off your bones and put you somewhere so far into the darkness that no one will even hear you scream. Is that clear?"

Tom glanced at Dean, clearly terrified. "I'll call my dad..."

"If he's anything like you, I doubt he'll even bother to come," John replied coldly. "Now, is that clear?"

Tom nodded, taking another step backwards. "Y-yeah," he whispered.

"Good. C'mon boys," John said, his tone mockingly bright. "Lets go get a hamburger or soemthing, huh?"

Dean grinned and moved after his Dad. He was so thrilled that he hardly even noticed that his head was still throbbing.

Sam, on the other hand, turned to Tom and folded his arms. "And," he added, sticking out his lower lip, "If you go near my bruver again, I'm gonna hit you really, really hard and you'll cry and it'll hurt."

Satisfied, he turned and ran after his family, taking Dean's hand again.

"I showed him," he said to Dean proudly.

"Yup," Dean muttered. "You sure did."

He didn't say anything else until they reached the car and he had got into the passenger seat. Only then did he look over at his Dad, leaning back against the leather seats as the engine rumbled into life.

"So, where are we going?"

"I thought maybe south, or down to California for a bit. I saw something in the paper that might be a haunting." He glanced at Dean, grinning. "You okay, Dean?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. You're always alright."

John reached over to rub Dean's shoulder as he pulled away from the curb. Dean blinked, going over his father's last few words. You're always alright... Am I? Dean thought. Is that how his father saw him? Dean shot a glance at his father, swallowing hard. Was that a good thing? But I'm not always alright. I wasn't alright last night, was I? He bit his lip.

"Dean, once we get to California, you should do some research with me. You're getting good at it, and now you're starting to learn how to handle a gun we'll have to get you onto some target practice soon."

"Yes, sir."

The words were out of his mouth before he even had time to think about them, a natrual reaction. And, just like that, things snapped back to as they had been before. His Dad was his leader, he was Sam's protector, and Sam... Sam was just a kid for now.

"Dean?" Sam called, leaning over the seat behind him. "Can we play?"

"Play what, Sam?" Dean was shocked at how normal his voice sounded compared to the thoughts that were racing around his head.

"Play soliders, or I Spy, or Twenty Questions?"

Dean nodded, Sam's breath warm on the back of his neck. He turned his head away from his Dad and looked out of the window. There was no point thinking of things he couldn't change, right?

"Okay, Sam. I'm thinking of a thing..."

So, happy ending? Not sure. Maybe I'll do a sequal to it, because I'm liking this story. Please tell me what you think, and if you want more!

Yours, SUPRNTRAL LVR.