A/N: This thought crept into my head and wouldn't go away till I wrote it down. Just a small two-shot about the Weechesters. This chapter is Dean's POV and next one will be Sam. This should only be a two-shot (next part will hopefully be up by next Tues) but it may need a third chapter to tie things up I haven't decided yet. Title comes from the song Therapy by All Time Low.

Important info:

Dean is 12 (6th grade)
Sam is 7 (2nd grade)

They go to a school that is K-8

Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own Supernatural or the lovely boys but if someone would like to get me my own Dean Winchester I would not object.

Chapter 1

Most twelve year old boys worried about small things. They worried about what mom was making for dinner tonight. 'It had better not be that nasty meatloaf again!' They worried about the evil homework assignment from Mr. Andrews. 'He can't really expect me to finish three chapters of reading by Monday... Right?' Or they worried about what the hot blonde cheerleader in the eighth grade thought of them. 'Hello, have you SEEN her?!' Some worried about the latest video game, comic, or movie that was coming out. Others worried about making the sports team in school and impressing their friends. Still there were others who cared more about grades than having any sort of social life. For most twelve year old boys these things were the most important things in the whole world. Most twelve year old boys were not Dean Winchester.

Dean worried about what he was going to make for dinner tonight for Sammy. He worried that he might have to skip breakfast again tomorrow to make sure that Sammy had enough cereal. He worried that his dad wasn't going to be back in two days like he had promised. If John wasn't back in another three days then Dean was going to have to find some ways to earn cash fast as the money John had left was rapidly dwindling. He knew he was a good babysitter in a pinch, and his dad had just taught him the fine art of cheating at poker and pool, but he was too young to really use either of those skills. He was a good pickpocket but he didn't want to steal unless it was absolutely necessary.

Dean also worried about why his dad might not be home in two days. Every time John left on another hunt Dean had to lie to Sammy. He told Sam it was work which was sort of true but Sam questioned everything and sometimes Dean didn't have the answers. Dean dreaded the day that John (or more likely he) would have to tell Sam about the supernatural. Dean wanted Sam to live like a normal kid for as long as possible. Well as normal as you can get with a father who was gone more often than not, a deceased mother and barely staying in the same place for longer than a few months at a time.

Dean worried that John might not take him hunting again anytime soon. Dean had just gone on his very first hunt with his dad and his dad's friend Bobby Singer. The hunt had been a simple salt 'n burn as his dad had called it. The entire hunt hadn't even taken a day. Dean had helped with research in the library while Sammy was at school (his dad had called Dean in sick), then after Sammy went to sleep (and John had hired a babysitter that Dean had spent almost half an hour interrogating); Dean, John, and Bobby had climbed into Bobby's truck and driven to an abandoned house that was haunted by a business man who had died the year before; whose wife was to cheap for a funeral and so had buried the body in the basement before running off with the gardener. The ghost was barely even vengeful. The worst it had done was shout obscenities at the three of them as they had dug up its grave.

But after Dean had successfully poured salt and lighter fluid over the bones and John had thrown the lighter into the grave, Dean had run outside and thrown up in the bushes. It was his first time seeing a dead body up close and personal. John hadn't said a word about it just handed him a water bottle to rinse out his mouth. Bobby had ruffled his hair and told him that he had done good, that he too had puked at his first dead body and that at least Dean had waited until they had finished the job. Bobby had left the next morning much to Sam's displeasure and John had found a hunt a few towns over and left that afternoon. That had been two weeks ago and John hadn't said anything about bringing Dean along on another hunt much to Dean's dismay.

John's most recent hunt had taken him away Sunday night. It was Wednesday now and John had promised to be back before the weekend. Dean knew that his father was the best hunter in the world but he still worried about what might happen to him. Especially since his father didn't take a partner with him on all his hunts. Bobby had told Dean that no matter how simple you think the hunt is going to be it is always preferable to have someone watch your back. Sure there were times when hunters hunted on their own but Bobby told Dean that it was reckless to do such a thing.

Dean's worries were things that no twelve year old should have to worry about. But Dean was a Winchester and fate was not so kind to the Winchesters. Of all the things that Dean was worried about though he had never been more worried than he was right now. Thoughts of monsters and ghosts didn't scare Dean but a black car with tinted windows, and a woman in a smart business suit and a clipboard, had Dean more terrified than he could remember being in years. The woman who Dean was told was a social worker had asked to see the Winchester boys. She had taken over the guidance counselor's office and she had asked to speak to Sammy first. Dean would never have allowed it if it hadn't been for the school principal frowning at him, Dean hadn't even had time to prep Sam before he was taken into the office by the school secretary. Sam looked at Dean with nervous eyes and Dean barely managed to give him a thumbs up before the door closed behind the little seven year old.

John had given Dean his usual order to protect Sammy and now that CPS was here Dean felt like a bit of a failure. Dean started pacing and hoped that whatever was going on behind that closed door was something that he could handle. Dean Winchester was not afraid of the things that most twelve year old boys are afraid of. But he was petrified of losing his family.

TBC.

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