My Big Brother Sam (SPN A.U.)

Chapter 1 : Sam

I held my little brother's hand as we walked into school together, a new school, new city.

"Hello, Sweetie," the secretary greeted me happily. I mentally rolled my eyes.

"Today is our first day," I informed her. She nodded and looked behind us.

"Where are your parents?" She asked, concern.

I looked down, embarrassed. "Our dad is at work."

"We don't have a mommy," Dean said chipper. I felt a pang of hurt reside in my heart.

"Oh," She said quietly. "What are your names and grades?"

"My name is Sam Winchester, and I'm in the fourth grade. My brother, Dean, is in first grade," I answered. I desperately wanted to leave this office and bury my head into a book. Schoolwork was my only escape from the life that our father wanted us to live, he wanted us to be hunters. The old man couldn't even take his two kids to school on the first day. We took bus after bus to get here, he must've forgot that we we're going to stay for school.

The sectary typed something away on the computer and printed two pieces of paper.

"Here are your schedules, I will take you to your classes," She glanced at the clock. School had already started about two minutes prior.

She handed Dean and I a piece of paper. "Follow me."

Dean happily grabbed her hand and I quickly followed behind them.

"This is your room Dean," She opened a door and Dean disappeared into the room. I instantly wanted to follow him, but we were at school. We were safe. I didn't need to protect my brother here. The memory of my dad handing me my brother when I was only three and he was a baby recited in my head. "Protect your brother, Sam."

The woman started walking again when it became evident that I wasn't going to hold her hand.

"Where did you move from before?" She asked me, desperate to break the silence.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. I had forgotten where we were staying the week before, I think we were in North Carolina. Now we were in Tennessee.

She laughed as if something I had said was funny. "Where were you born?"

"Lawrence Kansas," I answered quickly. I hadn't thought of home for a long time, we moved shortly after Dean and I's mother's death. Dean was only about three months old. Our father said she was murdered by some monster with yellow eyes, but he didn't like talking about her.

"What does your dad do?" She asked, I raised my eyebrow. My dad saved people, hunted things, the family business, but I couldn't tell someone like her that.

"He's a gardener," I answered, with hesitation.

"Interesting," She noted, I doubted she believed me. I couldn't have cared less, we would most likely be moving in a month anyway.