Ah! This story has been a real treat to write, and probably the only one I've written that I actually feel pretty good about. Maybe I should do weechester/teenchester stuff more often? I seem to have a bit of a knack for it.

I wrote this for Sylia91, so I hope she likes it, cause I know it's not quite what she asked for, lol. :D

Big, big kudos to Enkidu07! She was so amazing and took time to read this before I posted it. She helped me work out a lot of bugs and made this even better! So thank you, thank you! You rock!

Note: Sam is about 12 in this fic, in 6th grade, and Dean is 16.

Remedy

"Freak!" The older boy screamed, pushing him roughly.

Sam choked back the whimper that threatened to tear from his throat as his back slammed into the wall of the school building. He immediately slid down onto the cold concrete. The sun was angled on the building so that they were shrouded in shadow. Sam looked up at his attackers through stinging eyes.

Three pairs of eyes full of disgust all looked back at him. "What the fuck is this shit, huh? This ain't normal, ya little freak. You gonna put a curse on us, freak?" The stockiest boy demanded, waving the journal with pages full of unnatural symbols and Latin incantations.

Sam lowered his forehead to the ground, clenching his teeth. No... he wasn't a freak. He wasn't. He had no choice but to study the things his father told him to study. He didn't have a choice! Dean! Dean, help me! He pathetically begged in his mind, even though he knew Dean was nowhere around, and wouldn't be around anytime soon.

He gasped in pain as one of the boys sunk their foot into his side, banging him cruelly against the wall once more. A traitorous cry escaped his mouth when his hair was grabbed and pulled sharply so his head snapped up. His watering eyes stared into eyes burning with rage and hatred.

"You're a freak." The boy told him for the millionth time, upper lip lifting in a sneer of revulsion.

"No." Sam barely managed.

"What was that?" He shouted in his face, giving his hair a jerk.

"Tell him, Jack!" One of the others whooped, clearly enjoying this bully session.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut against the pain before opening them to look back at Jack defiantly. "I'm not a freak!"

"Wrong!"

He saw Jack's fist coming at his face, but he didn't try to dodge, just braced himself before the world exploded into brightly colored flashes of light.

Sam came back to himself a few seconds later with his cheek pressed into the concrete, three pairs of shoes standing around him, voices laughing and joking around. One of his attackers crouched in front of him as he moaned and tried to move his aching body.

"You tell on us, and you'll regret it." Jack threatened, suddenly shaking a fist in Sam's face, making him flinch. With that said, Jack stood up and they all walked away with self-satisfied smiles and congratulatory back-pats.

Sam watched them go with morbid fascination. He could already feel the decent shiner making an appearance on his face. It would be hard to hide... to make an excuse for it when it was seen... but he knew...

He knew he wouldn't tell...

Because deep down Sam knew he was a freak.

They wouldn't understand that he was only trying to help. They only saw things in crisp black and white. To them, Sam was just the reject with the weird satanic binder.

It was the natural order of things. If you stood out too much, were a little too different, you got punished for it.

0oo0

Sam tiptoed into the hospital room, his eyes resting on his brother's slumbering form. Machines beeped and whirred steadily, comfortingly.

Sitting down in a chair beside his brother's bed, he pushed it so that only the good side of his face would be visible to his brother if he woke. It was best that he kept his injury hidden for as long as he could. He was even hoping it would be mostly cleared up by the time Dean was up and around.

Seeing as Dean was asleep, he turned his whole face to him, eyes checking over the white bandages wrapped around his chest. Sam's bruised eye throbbed unexpectedly, giving him the weary realization that he'd deserved this, like Karma. Dean had jumped in front of the Wampus Cat to protect him, and it'd raked its claws clear across his chest. It was all Sam's fault... he hadn't been alert enough, hadn't acted fast enough.

The next few minutes of that hunt had been terrifying. The guns hadn't worked like they were supposed to, leaving Sam to shakily recall verses from the Book of Psalms. It was the only thing that waned the creature's advance; a piece of information his father had imparted on both he and Dean back at the motel, before the hunt.

He'd kept his bowie knife out in front of him as he'd chanted the words over Dean's still body, fear stabbing at his senses, warning him not to forget a single word, that Dean would die if he did. They'd both die.

The relief that flooded through him when the creature had suddenly screamed and burned away into the night had been overwhelming. Their dad had come crashing through the brush only seconds later, worry and concern blazing in his eyes. On their way to the hospital, Sam had felt his dad's disappointment in him. He'd gotten Dean hurt with his inattentiveness...

If their dad had been there, he would've seen the cat creature coming, would've saved Dean. But he'd insisted he do the ritual. It was complex, and dangerous if chanted incorrectly. And while he'd thought his sons would be safer holding the creature off, he'd been so wrong. Sam had been able to feel his regret, see it in his eyes when he looked at him. I told you to pay attention, Sam! I taught you to be alert at all times! Those eyes seemed to scream at him when a nervous glance had been directed at the rearview mirror, eyes ticking to Dean's pale form in Sam's arms, then to Sam's scared face.

Sam came back to himself, shaking his head to rid himself of the images, the feelings. Reaching for his backpack, he pulled out his math book and a sheet of paper. He had to distract himself and homework was just the thing.

0oo0

He was going through Percents and Ratios when he heard Dean's voice croak over to him.

"Nerd alert."

Sam grinned and kept working. "Shut up, jerk."

"Where's Dad?"

Sam sighed, and stared unseeingly at the math page. "He got a call about a poltergeist about an hour away... went to take care of it. He said he'd be back by tomorrow morning." That had been this morning, before Sam had gone to school. They'd both been sitting beside Dean loyally when his father had received the call.

He couldn't say he wasn't hurt by his father's decision to go. Even if Dean was out of hot water and going to make a full recovery, he felt like it was a bit of a betrayal. He should've at least stayed until Dean woke up, so Sam didn't have to tell him.

"Ah." Dean's voice was understanding and unbothered. It irritated Sam that he could be that way, and yet he wasn't all that surprised. If he knew his brother like he thought, Dean was probably hurt, but wouldn't show it.

"Hey, help a sick guy out here. I'm thirsty."

"Oh! Sorry." Sam replied sheepishly as he shot up out of his seat and to the tiny bathroom through a narrow door in the corner. He grabbed a paper cup out of the dispenser and filled it with water before hurrying back to Dean's side. He purposely went around to the other side of the bed from where he'd been sitting so he could angle the bruised side of his face out of Dean's sight. "Here," he said softly, feeling his heartbeat speed up when Dean looked at him oddly, but took the cup.

There was an awkward silence while Dean drank hungrily, his eyes intent on Sam. When Dean was done, he set the cup onto his bed tray without looking away.

"Uhm... you want more?" Sam asked hesitantly. His brother shook his head, still staring.

Feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest, he turned on his heel. "I'm gonna get some chips from the vending machine. Maybe I can sneak you some without the nurse finding out." He said, joking lamely past his anxiety. He was about to go, could already feel the relief of escape when his brother's fingers wrapped around his wrist. It wasn't a tight hold, just enough to make him stop. "Dean?"

"Look at me, Sam." Dean said, voice eerily calm, almost nonchalant.

Sam's heart leaped into his throat. He swallowed, glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye. "What?"

"I said look at me."

"I am." Sam frowned, tone defensive.

"No. Turn your head." Dean's eyes were getting harder, like he was growing sure of something.

"Why?" Sam questioned, tugging a bit at his wrist with some futile hope that he might magically get out of Dean's hold.

"Why are you fighting me about it?" Dean growled.

"What's your problem? You're being weird!" Sam snapped, tugging a little more insistently.

Dean gripped harder. "I'm not being anything. I asked you to look at me and you won't. What are trying to hide?"

Sam flinched as the word hide made its way out of his brother's mouth. "Nothing! I-"

"Sam!" Dean barked, giving his wrist a sharp tug that had him banging into the bed railing, his whole face exposed, eyes wide with fear.

The anger on Dean's face slowly morphed into shock, then concern before transforming back into anger. "Who did that?" He asked, voice low and hard.

"No one."

The words had barely left his mouth when Dean replied bitingly, "Bullshit! Don't lie to me. Who. Did. That."

Sam stared at his brother, mouth set in a grim, slightly trembling line. He said nothing.

The anger bled out of Dean's face, his voice softening. "Sammy..."

"It's nothing. I was clumsy and I fell at school." Sam mumbled, ducking his head.

"Someone at school did this to you?" Dean hissed, startling Sam with his switches in mood.

"No!" Sam spat out as his head shot up. He belatedly realized how much that gave it away.

Dean's mouth was the one set in a grim line this time. "I want names, Sam. Right now."

"No." Sam said, sounding completely childish even to himself.

"Sam," Dean warned.

Sam scowled and looked down at the floor pointedly only to have his chin forced back up by Dean's hand.

"I mean it, Sam."

The anger and helplessness he'd felt when he was attacked at school returned full force. "What are you gonna do if I don't tell you? Hit me?" He demanded in a strained voice, before instantly shutting his mouth with an audible click of teeth.

He tried to tear his eyes away before he saw Dean's face, but it was too late. He already saw the hurt that registered there. Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared back at the floor miserably.

"I'd never hurt you, Sammy..." Dean's tender voice floated into his ears, caressing the broken parts inside him. Encouraging them to put themselves back together.

Sam couldn't stop the sob, or the shake of his shoulders. After the first one got out, the rest poured on after. He felt so weak and stupid, bawling like a baby, but Dean didn't make fun of him, just pulled on his wrist and coaxed him onto the hospital bed.

He curled up carefully along his brother's side and let himself be held, Dean's gentle voice soothing him despite his distressed state.

"They..they told me.. I was a f-freak!" He wept, spilling things he knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't stop. It all came out in a rush. "They found my jour..nal.. that... that dad makes me study. And they beat me up, cause I'm a-a freak! Cause they said I-I was gonna curse th-them!" He sobbed harder at the memory, clutching at Dean who tightened his hold.

Sam gasped in pain as Dean's arm pressed on his injured side.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked worriedly.

Before Sam could respond, he felt his shirt being hitched up. Dean swore in his ear.

"Jesus, Sammy! I'm gonna skin those little shits alive when I find 'em!"

Sam froze, dread filling him. "N-No! They said I'd regret it if I told!"

Dean tentatively hugged Sam to him, cheek pressing into his hair. "Don't you even worry about that. I promise you they won't touch you again, okay?" When Sam remained quiet, only whimpering softly, Dean gave him a shake. "Okay?"

"Okay..." Sam sniffled back, pressing his forehead closer to Dean's neck.

"You're not a freak, Sammy. You're a hero... you help save people from bad things. Those guys are just stupid jerks, and they'll get what's coming to 'em."

Sam could sense the turmoil in his brother, the need to get up from the bed and go kick somebody's ass, but after a few minutes Dean relaxed and focused on calming him down, his hand sliding reassuringly up and down Sam's arm as he whispered words of comfort and promise.

Once Sam felt like he wasn't splitting at the seams, he raised his head a bit to look at his brother. "You're not in pain, are you?"

Dean looked at him fondly, a small smile touching his lips. "Nah. They have the IV set up so it times doses for my pain killers."

Sam nodded and lowered his head back down, sighing deeply. "Sorry... I snotted all over you."

Dean snorted in amusement. "You've done worse." He said in a reminiscent way.

Sam knew what the comment was supposed to mean, but the phrasing of the words caused his chest to constrict painfully.

That's right... he'd done much worse.

"Sam?" Dean questioned in confusion, easily noticing the sudden tension in his little brother's body.

"I almost got you killed, Dean..." Sam mumbled brokenly, covering his face with trembling hands and turning into Dean's side more.

Sam felt the fingers that were curled around his arm tighten. "You listen to me, Sammy, and you listen good." Dean spoke softly, his chin settling atop Sam's head. "What happened before wasn't your fault..."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean shushed him before he could even get a syllable out.

"That thing was fast, Sam. Faster than dad thought... there was no time to aim." He said in a voice charged with conviction. "And you know I'd die before I let anything bad happen to you..."

"But I don't want you to die!" Sam cried in distress, pushing himself to his elbows to pin shimmering eyes on his older brother.

"That's just the thing." Dean replied, smile affectionate as his fingers sifted through Sam's unruly locks. "You kept me alive, man. No matter what happens... as long as you're there, you'll keep me alive, Sammy."

And just like that, Sam felt the pressure crushing his chest lift away. A new flood of tears spilled down his cheeks and he took in Dean's misty eyes before the arm around him drew him back in. A quick kiss was pressed to his temple as his tears soaked into the pillow beside Dean's head.

Nothing else was said for a long time. Even after Sam's tears stopped, they simply lay quietly next to each other, Sam's periodic sniffles coupling with the unfaltering noise of the machines in the room.

It took Sam real effort to drag his elbows under him so he could sit up again. He scrubbed at his tear stained face with the sleeve of his shirt before meeting Dean's eyes which were normal now, no signs of pooled moisture, but the emotion shown through them all the same. Sam offered a self-conscious smile and ducked his head a bit, but didn't look away. "Uhm... I'm seriously gonna go get some chips. I'm starving." His growling stomach punctuated his words.

Dean smirked, threading his fingers through Sam's mop of hair once more before ruffling it and letting his hand fall back to the bed. "Alright... but I meant what I said before... I'll take care of those jerks. They're not going to touch you again. I promise."

If not for all the tears he'd already poured out, he might've ended up crying again. His brother always made him feel better, always made things better. Reassured him. He nodded tightly before gingerly crawling out of the bed.

At the doorway he paused and looked back at his brother who was watching him protectively.

"I love you, Dean." He said quickly before blushing and hurrying away from the door.

0oo0

Fin.