Sometimes it was hard to look up to his big brother.

Usually it was easy. After all, Dean was cool. He wasn't cool like most people were cool. He was COOL. He was the kind of cool that meant that he could get away with almost anything, because he knew how to talk his way out of it, and when to laugh it off, and when to hide from dad when he couldn't do anything else. He was cool in the way that he was really good at sports in gym class, but too cool to bother trying out for a team. He was cool because he was already learning how to help dad fix up the car, when it had problems. He was cool because he always wore jeans with ripped knees, and sunglasses even when it was dark out.

But the coolest thing about Dean was that he was never too busy to hang out with Sammy. Even when they were in a place long enough for Dean to make friends, even when he started getting old enough that girls started to like him, he wasn't too busy for Sammy. If Sammy wanted Dean to teach him to play soccer, or to help him with his homework (although Dean wasn't always so good at that), Dean was there.

So Sammy thought his big brother was pretty damn cool, and Sammy looked up to him.

But sometimes it was hard to. Times like this, when he'd woken Sammy up at 3 AM, covered in mud and with blood coming from his nose and a few cuts on his face, wreaking of beer. It was hard to look up to him, then.

"Dean?" Sammy asked, rubbing his eyes and glancing at his alarm clock. "It's really late..."

"Yeah, well, I snuck out earlier and got in a fight." Dean smirked proudly at his little brother.

Sammy sighed heavily and shook his head. "Dad's gonna be real mad." He didn't bother asking who a 6th grader would get in a fight with. It might be another kid from his school, but how many kids were out this late at night? Whatever, Sammy didn't really want to know.

"Nah, I'll just wash the mud off, he'll never know. He's asleep in the other room, I didn't wake him up." Dean jerked his head towards the door of the cheap apartment they'd been living in the last month.

Sammy frowned at his older brother, then got out of bed, grabbing his wrist and tugging him towards the bathroom.

"What?" Dean asked, following Sammy.

"I'll help you clean your cuts. Dad might not notice a few of those, but if you leave blood all over he will." Sammy knew Dean was no good at bandaging up.

"Thanks, Sammy, you're a lifesaver."

Sammy nodded and took his older brother to the bathroom to help clean his wounds and make them as unnoticable as possible.

Usually, Dean was cool. Usually, Dean was cooler than cool. But sometimes, times like this, Sammy didn't look up to him.

But that was only sometimes.