Chapter Text
“Hey, Sammy,” He woke to Dean shaking his shoulder. “We’re here.”
Sam sat up and stretched as much as he could in the backseat of their car. He looked out the window to see the new house. It was kind of small, he thought, but that didn’t matter. It was just the three of them and they would probably be gone before the start of next school year. Behind them, a rental pickup truck with a Uhaul trailer parked. John, Sam and Dean’s father, was driving it.
“Sam, help your brother take things inside,” That was him. He’d knocked his palm against the side of the door and Sam slid out of the car, accepting the box that was handed to him, abandoning his backpack in the backseat. He’d get it later.
After checking the label on the box- Kitchen- he wandered through the house, trying to find the kitchen in the unfamiliar layout. He did soon- there were only so many rooms- and set the box on the counter, going out to get another.
“Hey, look,” Dean was standing by the trunk, looking to the side. “We have neighbors.” Sam followed his gaze and sure enough, there were kids playing in the yard. None of them looked to be even Sam’s age, one was a toddler and there was a baby nearby. As the brothers watched, a boy sitting on the porch behind a book, he looked to be about their age but neither of them had seen him, looked up and spotted them. He leaned forward to tap an older person on the shoulder, pointing to them. He followed the teen’s finger and stood up, picking up the baby. The teen put his book down and followed, the children’s play stopping as they watched.
“Hi,” The older of the two greeted. He looked to be hardly older than Dean. “Are you guys moving in?”
“Yes, we are,” John emerged from behind the trailer, holding a box. “I’m John Winchester, these are my sons Sam and Dean.”
“I’m Sam,” He helpfully supplied, taking the box from his father.
“I’m Gabriel Shurley. Do you need help unpacking? We’ve got plenty of hands. Big family and all that,” Gabriel motioned behind him to the children standing on the yard, watching.
“That would be great, actually,” John glanced at his sons, both of whom were holding boxes. “Take those in boys.” He then turned back to Gabriel, who shifted the baby on his hip. “If that isn’t too much trouble.”
“Of course not,” Gabriel grinned. It was a slightly mischievous smile, like he’d been up to something. “Let me just put Sophia down and grab some of them. Cas, why don’t you stay and help?”
“Okay,” ‘Cas’ responded softly. He had unruly black hair, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, some strands falling in front of his blue eyes. “I’m Castiel,” He introduced himself, holding a hand out for John to shake as Gabriel headed inside his house.
Within a few minutes, Castiel was put to work and Gabriel returned with two others- A blond boy of about 13 and an Asian girl with big framed glasses of about 15 or 16. He introduced them as Balthazar and Ambriel. With their help, it took only about an hour for everything but the boys’ rooms to be unpacked.
“Gabe, what’s lunch?” Balthazar asked, tugging slightly on Gabriel’s shirt. He had an accent that Sam couldn’t identify, not that he was good with accents anyway. Gabriel glanced at his watch and frowned a little.
“I’ve got to get back and make lunch, is it okay if we go now? You don’t need any more help?”
“No, we should be good,” John replied. “Take care of your family.”
The four of them left, Gabriel and Castiel last. Dean frowned as he heard Castiel saying something to Gabriel, something along the lines of “Are you feeling okay?” To which Gabriel replied that yeah, he was fine, as he pushed his hand against Castiel’s black hair. The teen was almost taller than him, but not quite.
“Wonder if he’s their dad or something,” John murmured.
“No, they called him by his name. He’s not old enough to be their dad anyway,” Sam replied from grabbing his backpack. There were a few moments of silence as the small family looked around their new home.
“Well, you two unpack your rooms,” John ordered. “I’m going to return the Uhaul and get you two enrolled in school. We’ll return the truck later.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean answered as both boys began trooping up the stairs.
About two hours later, as Sam was unpacking, giggles and squeals drifted in through his open window. He glanced out to see that the neighbor kids were playing outside again, this time though, more teenagers were sitting on the porch. The black-haired one, Castiel, had forsaken his book for a notebook that he was highlighting in. Sam backed up from his window and finished unpacking, then grabbed a book of his own from his backpack and leaned out the window. There was a tree that had grown somewhat close to the window and he wanted to see if he could get to it from the window. He kneeled on his desk at first, then crawled out. To his delight, he was able to get into the tree. He grinned and found a good branch to sit on, then cracked open his book.
~
“Sam!” Dean called, hours later. Engrossed in his book, Sam didn’t hear. “Sammy!” When he received no response, Dean grumbled to himself, climbing up the stairs and going into Sam’s room. “Sam!” He called again, frowning when his brother wasn’t in his room. “Where are you,” He muttered.
“What do you want, Dean?” Sam asked, having heard the final call for his name. Dean jumped and turned, finally seeing Sam in the tree.
“What are you- Nevermind,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. “Dinner’s ready. Don’t get yourself hurt in there.”
“But Dad’s not home,” Sam protested with a glance to the driveway. Their father’s real car, a ‘67 black Impala, sat there but not the rusty rental pickup. “Shouldn’t we wait for him?”
“I’ll call him,” Dean replied. “I’m sure he’s just hung up and busy. He never wants us to wait for him. Come down, alright?”
“‘Kay,” Sam closed his book and tossed it through the window then began the process of getting back in the house. Dean left, pulling out his phone and selecting their father’s contact, one of the few he had. He was just hanging up when Sam emerged from the stairs.
“Dad’s gonna be late,” Dean said in that way. The way that told Sam don’t wait up . That tomorrow, John would likely be passed out on the couch, he and his clothes reeking, the car parked awkwardly. Dean would likely adjust it before John woke up, some time in the afternoon. The brothers would creep around the house, curtains drawn, all day. A glass of water would be set on the table next to the arm of the couch, painkillers resting beside it.
Dean carried two paper plates of box macaroni and fish sticks to the small dinner table, setting two plastic forks down next to them as Sam took a seat and grabbed a plate. They ate in comfortable silence. When finished, Sam glanced into the kitchen to make sure there weren’t leftovers- Dean had learned how to stretch ingredients to make meals that could last multiple days. There weren’t any, so he tossed his dishes in the trash and moved to wash the saucepot Dean had used. The older of the two ate slowly, fingers flying over the screen of his phone, undoubtedly texting their father in an attempt to get a coherent answer.
“Looks like we’re starting school in two days, on Monday,” Dean spoke just as Sam was about to go back upstairs. “I’ll take you out for supplies tomorrow.”
“Where at?”
“Smith Center High School. Doesn’t look very far from here.”
“Okay. Thanks. Can I go upstairs now?”
“Sure. Don’t stay up too late reading.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam grinned, taking the stairs two at a time, leaving Dean alone at the dinner table, running his hands through his short hair.