AN: After writing Beneath Watchful eyes I really feel like writing some WeeWinchester stories. Ideas haven't been playing all that nice with me over the last couple of days but I hope you still enjoy this little fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural

What I did Last Weekend

Dean stared down at his blank piece of paper, wanting to crumple it up, and in an attempt to release his frustration cast everything from his desk. But one glance up at the room, the rest of the class paying close attention to one of his classmates Dean didn't want to draw the attention to himself.

He hated school; hated sitting still for so long and learning about things that couldn't possibly help him hunt demons with his father. But he especially hated, the useless busy assignments such as 'Tell the class about your weekend' 'What's something new that you learned over the weekend' and so on.

Absently chewing on the end of his pen, Dean didn't pay any attention to the girl telling her boring story about grandparents coming to visit. It was all the same, they all led peaceful lives, without a clue what lurked in the dark. For Dean it was about all he knew, which is what made these assignments so frustrating. What was he to write that would sound real? Obviously he had to have a life just like all the rest, it's not like he could say.

What I did last weekend, by Dean Winchester

On Saturday my dad and I went to the graveyard after midnight to find the body of a woman who's been haunting a house in town for the past twenty years. It was a routine salt and burn, the hardest part is digging up the grave. Salt repels ghosts, spirits and even demons; the fire puts their souls to rest.

Sunday dad and I spent the afternoon researching for our next hunt, but I had to take a break to spend some time with Sammy. He's still too young to take part in the actual hunts, but he's so smart he really wants to help with the research. Still I try to give him what childhood I can, I've been looking out for him since he was a baby. I don't really want to see him begin hunting; I don't want him getting hurt like I did last week. I dislocated my shoulder when and angry spirit tossed me across the room.

Dean stared straight ahead; easily able to picture the reactions he'd receive for telling the absolute truth. They'd think him nuts, dad would be called in and the questions would begin. They'd asked but wouldn't be able to prove what Dean said was true, but it would cause a great deal of worry.

So what did that leave him? What could he say that would sound important enough to share?

"Dean?" he teacher asked.

Blinking back to reality Dean was met with the eyes of most of his classmates all waiting to see what he'd done with his weekend.

Without hesitation, Dean pushed back his chair, and picked up his blank piece of paper before walking to the front of the class. Drawing in a breath, Dean forced himself to look up at the class choosing to focus on a spot right in front of him.

"On the weekend I taught my little brother Sammy how to ride my bike…"

Thanks for Reading!

Morganeth Taren'drel