The Hero Never Dies

(Wee!chester) It's Sam's first day of kindergarten. What could possibly go wrong? Demons attacking the school? NAH!

Sam Winchester, 5 years old, skipped ahead of his older brother, Dean, chattering happily with his fantasies of kindergarten. "And then we'll color and draw all these awesome stuff, and then we'll go play on the playground, 'cause I heard its really big. Do ya think its really big, Dean?" He asked, looking up at his brother.

Dean, who was 9, and, of course, not very worried about school, just smiled at his little brother. "Yeah, Sammy, I'm sure its huge," he said, kicking at some brown leaves on the sidewalk on the way to school. It was a slightly chillier morning than an average September day, he noted absently.

Sam grinned widely and asked yet another question, "Do they really have milk and cookies?" he asked eagerly, his brown eyes full of childish hope.

If only he knew the dangers…Dean thought.

"I'm positive they do. After all, I did say so, didn't I?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Not everything you say is right, ya know."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Dean grinned. Just an hour ago, Sam had refused to get out of under the couch after Dean pulled him out of bed. Sammy had insisted on going to the same school as Dean, or he wasn't going at all. Dean had told him the fun things about kindergarten, however, and Sam had immediately forgotten his tantrum.

Suddenly Sam stopped in his tracks, about to cross the road to where the kindergarten was. He turned to look at Dean with now wide, scared eyes. "What if the monsters get me?" he whispered.

Dean had actually expected this, for it was common lately. But he had not prepared his answer. "I…I won't let them. I'll make sure you're safe." he said.

Sam cocked his head. "How're you gonna do that? You're across the street!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling slightly.

His big brother nodded. "And that's close enough. I'll be right there with you if something happens."

"But how? How will you know?" Sam demanded.

"I'll know. I promise." Dean smiled reassuringly at his little brother. He honestly didn't know how he was going to know, or how he was going to kill it if a monster came at all. He shook the thoughts away, however. He didn't expect a monster or whatever to appear. It was highly unlikely that a random monster would just happen to land in Sam's kindergarten, anyhow.  

Sam stared at him hard, trying to see if Dean was lying. He ran over to Dean and hugged him. "But what if they get you?" Sam asked. "Who will protect you? I don't think I have your power to know if you're in big trouble."

Dean snorted. "You really think a monster or something would dare take me on? I don't think so."

Sam grinned. "'Cause no one can get you and Dad, right? You'll always stay with me?"

"Duh, Sammy. We'll never leave you." Dean said, putting an arm around his little brother's shoulders. They crossed the road, and all too soon, they were looking at the doors of the kindergarten. Sam froze, his grip on Dean's arm as tight as steel.

"I'm scared," he whispered softly. He trembled, frightened of being alone in a building without his brother or father.

"You'll be okay, Sammy. I promise. I'll be right outside the door waiting for you to tell me about your day." Dean said, patting Sam's back.

Sam took a deep breath, puffing out his chest. "Okay. I can do this." he said firmly.

And, while Dean grinned hugely in amusement, Sam marched confidently into the school.

                      ******************************
A while into the day, Sam was pretending to sleep during nap time. He'd enjoyed all the activities, although he disliked nap time. It made him feel like a baby. He peeked an eye open, and his teacher, Mrs. Krane, somehow noticing him, gave him a gentle smile that clearly told him to close his eyes and sleep.

But Sam's eyes widened when he saw the teacher's eyes flash pure black. Sam, after reading Dad's journal, knew that human figures with eyes that appear black meant one thing: demon. That face alone was enough to make him panic. He didn't know how to kill it, much less defend himself. He scrambled to his feet. "You're a demon! You're not human!" he yelled, his voice raising fiercely.

The blond teacher only smiled again. "You're just a little smart one, aren't you? I like you already." she said, walking over to his side, and grabbing him by the arm. He screamed and kicked, trying to get away. The other children awoke and started shrieking in fear, running around the room, looking for a way out. Others sat with their faces in their knees, shaking.

`DEAN! I NEED HELP!! DEEEEAAANN!! he thought wildly.

Another teacher rushed into the room, yelling his head off, too fast for Sam to hear his words. The demon only rolled its eyes and walked up to the man, grabbed him by the collar, and threw him out of the window, shattering the glass.

"You said you'd come," Sam whispered, staring at the shattered mess on the floor, the wind blowing his hair back.
              *****************************************

Dean sighed, leaning back in his chair, trying to look attentive as his teacher discussed the yearly plans. Its not like we're staying for a long time, he mused.

He closed his eyes halfway, tuning out the voice of the teacher, listening only to the hum of silence.

Abruptly, somebody screamed. It was a real scream, a terrified, shocked scream. Dean snapped to attention, looking around wildly.
Within a few seconds, the class had crowded around the window, gasping and panicking.

"What's happening over there?!" someone shrieked. Dean whipped his head around, and saw the shattered glass of his brother's kindergarten. No! He started heading to the door.

Someone caught him by the collar. "You are to remain here." Miss Black stated firmly. Her eyes flashed black. A demon. Dean yanked himself away.

"You're a demon," he spat. He pulled out a knife out of his pant leg, holding it out in front of him protectively.

The creature didn't look surprised. "Yes, I figured you and little Sammy would figure it out eventually. You're smart little boys, arent you?" Dean charged at her, but the demon whacked him away, slamming him into the wall.

"Be careful with that knife, Deano. Wouldn't want you hurting yourself." she smirked before facing the terrified children. "You brats will make yourself useful and stand in a line. Get to it. Now!"

As the children scrambled around, the monster walked up to Dean, grabbed him by his arms, and yanked him onto a desk. "And you wont be going anywhere, I can assure you,"

The students were now in a rigid line, trembling in fear. The demon cocked its head. "This is just plain cute. Hmm. Who is worthy of being the first player of the game?" she asked, her lip curling up into a snarl. She walked up to a brunette, who looked as if she was about to bawl her eyes out.

"How bout you, sweetie? What's your name?"

"A-Alyssa," the little girl stammered.

The demon smiled wickedly.

*************************

Sammy, across the street, was dealing with the same problem. Only he wasn't unconscious. He was forced to watch his fellow classmates be traumatized by the terrifying demons one by one. Something told him that soon, it wouldn't be just scaring them, it would be much more. Images of monsters killing people flashed through his mind, and he put his knees to his chin, trying to drown out everything. The kids ran around the room, screaming all the while.
"Dean…I need you. Please. PLEASE." he whispered helplessly.

***************************

Dean woke to the sound of sobbing. "No, please, no!" And then there was a scream. And then pained, shocked silence.

Dean opened one eye, deciding mentally what the hell he was supposed to do. The demons had most likely cut all power, and trapped everyone inside the school without cell phone access. He wasn't near any salt, or holy water, so killing it was out of the question. Not to mention the kindergarteners across the street were being terrorized, along with Sammy, too.

Things were so not looking good. Slowly, he wiped off the blood on his forehead from the open gash. Considering his options, Dean stuck with one that seemed most affective: use the element of surprise and lunge, distracting her.

Then what? He had no way of contacting Dad, much less the police. Already two people were dead on the floor, maybe more across the street. Dean was on the verge on panicking, mostly for the safety of Sammy, but also for everyone else.

Rising to his feet, quickly as he could, he lunged at the demon, leaping himself onto her back, tackling her. The demon shrieked angrily, trying to roll him off. Once the demon was lying on her back, Dean started punching her in the face, over and over again till she was bloody.

"What are you doing here? What's your motive?" he demanded.

The demon simply smiled. "For entertainment, of course. Hearing the sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking is better than television," it said. "Well, Dean, it was nice seeing you, but I really must get going."

It gripped his arm suddenly, and squeezed it. Dean grunted, struggling, but the demon only twisted his arm. Dean screamed, and he heard the crack of his bone. To his surprise, the demon suddenly opened its mouth, and, throwing Dean back, a black cloud of smoke released itself out of its vessel. It was odd that it ditched, since it could have easily killed Dean.

But he wasn't arguing with its decision.

He ordered his fellow students to stay in the room, and don't move. They nodded; they weren't about to question him.

Panting and clutching his broken arm, he ran over to a desk in the front of the room, looking for anything useful. He searched everywhere, and was getting desperate when finally he saw a small, silver, rectangular object.

A cell phone.

Dean didn't think he'd ever seen something so wonderful. Dialing the number's for his dad furiously, with his good arm, and he pressed the TALK button.

It rang.

And rang. It rang even longer.

"Cmon, Dad, please. Pick up. C'mon." he muttered.

Still it rang.

Dean was about to hang up when a gruff voice asked, "Hello?"

Sighing in relief, Dean grunted, "Dad?"

The sound of his voice must have showed emotion, because John was immediately concerned. "Dean? You all right? Is Sammy all right?"

"Dad, I…the school. Two demons attacked both schools. One of them ran off, and I was just about to find Sammy. But I don't know how to kill the demon in the kindergarten." Dean hastily said.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Find Sam, but be careful, you hear me? Be careful." John ordered, though it was obvious that Dean wouldn't do anything to risk his brother's safety.

Hanging up, Dean suddenly fatigue overwhelm him, but he pushed it down. His health didn't matter right now. Only Sam's did. He grabbed a thick scarf off the rack, and wrapped it around tightly around his broken arm. He winced; the pain was blinding.

Cautiously, he walked quietly and slowly, listening for the faintest sound that would confirm more demons. There was not a sound, and that worried him. But his mind was only on one target.

Sammy.

Once he reached the front doors of the school, he noticed that a storm had made it way through, and it was now pouring rain. He took a deep breath and charged out the door, hearing only the wind and the rumble of thunder as he ran through the foggy rain.

Stopping only for a second, Dean ran up to the shattered window, daring to look at the scene. Most of the kids were huddled in a corner, as the demon held one child in the air by the throat. Dean looked at the opposite side of the room to see his brother.

Sam was lying on the floor, his eyes closed. A gash on his cheek oozed fresh blood. Dean felt anger at himself rise within him, and, giving a cry of rage, he once again lunged at a demon. They both fell to the floor, For a few seconds, they wrestled, the demon growling and snarling, its black eyes revealing a tortured, evil soul that had no end nor beginning. Then the demon gripped his broken arm, and there was a tearing sound as his flesh ripped. Without looking at now the bloody mess, Dean knew the bone had gone through the skin and tissue. Before he could find the scarf that had fallen off, the demon slammed him to the ground, its hand on his rib cage. While Dean gave a low, strangled scream, the demon pressed, and there was two sharp snapping sounds of his ribs. Grunting and gasping, Dean struggled to push away the pain to remember the Latin exorcism words that he'd looked up in the library seconds before he'd crossed the street.

As soon as he started chanting, the cowardly demon grew panicked, and decided it was not worth it to stay and wait to be sent to Hell. The trail of black smoke left hastily through the vents.

And then, in the midst of the rain and thunder, there was silence. The kindergarteners remained on the floor, most curled into a ball, the majority of them sobbing quietly.
Hearing the silence, and the disturbing yet relieving feeling that it was over, Sam looked up form his corner that he'd hidden. Oddly, the demon had given him no notice. Sam smiled; his brother had saved him once again.

But the smile disappeared when he saw Dean lying on the floor, and the blood pooling on the carpet from the arm.

"No!" he squeaked in fear.

Scrambling to his side, Sam touched Dean's good arm. "Dean?" he whispered.

Nothing. Just the fearful silence.

"Dean, wake up. Wake up!" Sam cried. But his big brother's eyes remained closed.

"Dean, no. You said you would never leave. You promised! And…and the hero isn't supposed to die. The hero supposed to be invincible, right? That's what you told me. The hero never dies,"

Finally, Dean's eyes fluttered. Then the coughing began. Terrible, hacking coughs that wracked his whole body. "S-Sammy…hey. I'm okay."

Sam grinned from ear to ear. "You came," he stated.

"…Duh. Just like I said," Dean muttered. "Hey, Sammy…can you grab that scarf over there for me?"

Sam nodded and crawled over to the green scarf, and handed it to Dean as he watched him struggle to wrap it around his bloody and broken arm.

"I can help," Sam said lamely, though he knew Dean would object.

Dean simply shook his head. It took two minutes for him to finally finish the task, and Dean felt the energy slowly draining from him.

Sam, by the sight of the blood, was on the verge of throwing up, but he swallowed and he lay next to his brother, his head on Dean's shoulder. "What now?"

"I called Dad…he'll be here. It'll be okay," Dean said, using his good arm to carefully pat his shoulder. Pain was permanently registered on his face, but it was clear that he was trying as trying to hide it from Sam. Dean had always been like this, shielding his own pain from his brother, not accepting help that Sam would give his heart to try. He may have been only five years old, but he felt more mature than the rest. of the kindergarteners. He knew about the dangers, the monsters. They didn't. And strangely that gave him a sense of power…and fear that they couldn't even imagine.  

It felt like a small eternity before the sound of the door opening that caused Sam to jump, frightened that it was the demon's reinforcements. But when he turned uncertainly, he smile d in relief to see that it was the heavenly sight of his dad.

In a haze of pain and the numb feeling of exhaustion, Dean barely noticed his father next to him, telling him it was all right, he'd be fine. He heard Sammy explain what happened, while tears streamed freely down his face, the water mixing with the blood on his cheek wound.

He felt himself being lifted in the familiar arms of John, and he felt Sam's hand in his. He moaned, the pain in his ribs and arm shooting through his body.

Sam's hand clutched desperately tighter, and Dean didn't it away. Weakly, he squeezed his little brother's hand. He could hear the distant sirens, and he found himself attempting to say, "No, Dad, no hospital…" but all that came out was a garbled mutter.

John shushed him, but still Dean shifted. The hospital was out of the question, and being in a ambulance van was the worst thing imaginable. "Dean, hey, come on. You need a hospital, okay? I can't fix you up myself." he heard his father say firmly.

He almost smiled when he heard Sam's quiet voice. "He wants you to drive him there in the Impala."

"What?"

"He feels safe there."

Dean felt John shrug hastily before the Impala's car door opened, and John lay Dean gently on the backseat, while Sam climbed carefully in after him.

Dean blinked up at the roof of the car. "Some…first day, huh?" he croaked.

Sam crossed his arms and gave a pouty face. "I'm never going back," he stated firmly.

"You gotta, Sammy. Not this…dump but somewhere…else," his hoarse voice was losing the strength once again to speak.

Sam shook his head stubbornly. "No. Never again."

Dean sighed slightly, careful not to disturb his injured ribs, and gave Sam a look that said, "Yes, yes you will. Because I told you so."

Sam frowned. "How could you even think of it?" he demanded.

"Just go. Please?"

Sam sighed heavily, and leaned back in the seat as John got into the car and shuffled quickly around the junk in the car. "Okay," Sam grumbled.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Dean smiled and closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain without such luck. The purr of the Impala's engine made him feel at peace…and sleep felt like a blessing.

Sammy's words repeated through his head.

"The hero never dies."