Sam walked into his new high school, trying to adjust his backpack on his already bruised shoulders. He was dressed in long sleeves, with a doctor's note saying he was allergic to the sun and needed to remain in long clothes. He looked at the signs leading him to his classroom,as he tried to avoid contact with everyone and everything.

He sat down in the back of the math classroom, drawing whatever he felt like drawing. He never showed anyone his drawings, as that would draw too much attention to him. He looked up, each time another student walked into the room. His attention was drawn to the last student to enter, someone that went by the name of Dean.

He stiffened as an intense wave of deja vu washed over him. He immediately looked away, but not before Dean noticed him and looked at him curiously.

Dean sauntered over and sat in the desk across the aisle from Sam. He looked over Sam's shoulder, wondering what the boy was drawing. He stiffened in surprise when he saw that Sam was drawing an almost perfect replica of his Impala.

"You're really good. What year is that car?" Dean asked curiously. Sam shrugged, adding the final touches and moving to put the drawing book away.

Dean reached out instinctively, to stop him from putting away the book. He watched as Sam flinched away from his touch, and he felt a spark of anger course through his veins.

"I...um... I'm not that good." Sam objected, too nervous to stop Dean from taking his drawing book. Dean flipped through the pages, his mouth hanging open in amazement.

"Are you kidding me?! These are amazing... I mean they are so lifelike."Dean said breathlessly, stopping on a drawing of Sam's foster family.Sam blushed at the praise and looked away, too afraid to admit that he wasn't used to that kind of attention.

Dean handed the book back, as the teacher walked in. He looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye, wondering why he didn't like being praised for his artwork. Everyone deserved to be told they did a good job,especially for something that good.

As soon as the bell rang, Sam grabbed his stuff and ran from the room.He wandered around looking for his locker, wanting to put some of his books away. He would never admit it, but his back and shoulders hurt too much to keep carrying his bag. He finally found his locker and put his extra books away, before heading to next class.

The class periods went by relatively quick, as Sam noticed that the guy from his first class was in the rest of his classes. Lunch time came went and Sam headed to P.E, where he was forced to run a mile as quickly as possible in the heat, with his long sleeves.

"Are you nuts?" Dean asked, jogging up to Sam with ease. Sam looked at him in surprise, as he ran a little faster. Dean laughed and kept up with him pretty easily, as he wondered why the kid had picked up his pace.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked softly, not understanding why this guy kept appearing beside him and trying to talk to him. He couldn't figure out why this guy didn't scare him, normally strangers did.

"It's ninety degrees out here, and you are running in long sleeves." Dean pointed out with a look of disbelief. Sam paled slightly and shrugged, he couldn't possibly tell him the truth.

"I...i'm... uh... all...erg...ic t...to the s...sun..." Sam stammered softly, as he started to feel dizzy from being too warm. He stopped and doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. Sweat poured down his face, as he breathed hard trying to dispel the dizziness and nausea coursing through him.

Dean stopped and put a hand on Sam's back, rubbing it gently.

"Just breathe through it, kiddo. It will pass." Dean said in a soft but firm voice. Sam coughed softly, resisting the urge to whimper.Whimpering always led to getting smacked or punched harder.

"I don't feel so good." Sam admitted weakly, his vision blurring as he tried to breathe through the panic. He gagged hard, retching violently.

Dean grimaced, knowing that must have hurt the poor kid. He saw Sam briefly lift his sleeve up on his arm in an attempt to cool down, but then the kid quickly hid his arm again. It took all of Dean's self-control to not react when he saw a massive bruise on Sam's arm.

Sam was oblivious to Dean's noticing of his bruising, as he gave up and vomited on the ground in front of him. He would have normally tried to hide from embarrassment, but was too sick to care. Unfortunately once he started throwing up, he couldn't stop as he brought up more and more.

Dean started to panic when he realized that Sam wasn't stopping. He kept rubbing circles on the kid's back, wincing each time he felt the kid's back tense before being sick. He felt the kid's whole body stiffen, and he looked down in confusion. There on the ground amongst everything the kid had brought up, was bright red blood.

"Kid, did you just vomit blood?" Dean asked anxiously. He reached over on instinct and lifted the kid's shirt up slightly. There were angry,fresh bruises covering Sam's stomach and ribs. "Son of a bitch!"he gasped in shock.

Sam's eyes rolled back into his head, and his legs buckled. Dean barely caught Sam in time to keep him from landing in the mess he had just made.

"Coach! I need an ambulance now!" Dean yelled anxiously. The coach called 911, and Sam was whisked away to the hospital in the blink of an eye.Dean waited anxiously in the hospital waiting room, pacing back and forth.

About an hour later, Sam's foster parents walked in and were immediately confronted by social services.

"Why does he have so many bruises on him?" Dean overheard the social worker ask. He frowned thoughtfully remembering the bruising he had seen.

"He's a rough teenager, why do you think?" the foster dad snapped at the social worker. The social worker frowned, looking at the doctor's report in front of her.

"That 'bruising' has led to massive internal bleeding. If it hadn't been for the boy that helped him, Sam would've bled out without anyone ever noticing." She explained firmly. The dad scoffed rudely and glared at the woman.

Dean glared at the man angrily, and walked up to the man before he could stop himself.

"Sam collapsed while running for PE. If I hadn't been there to catch him, we wouldn't have been able to save him." Dean snapped at the man.The dad glared at Dean and lifted a hand to smack him.

"Sir, i'm sorry but you need to leave the hospital right now." the social worker said firmly. She stepped in the way, so that Dean wouldn't be struck.

"Not without, Sammy." the man spat angrily. Dean's eyes widened as he tried to remember why that name was so familiar.

"No, Sam will not be going with you as long as there is a pending investigation against you." The social worker said firmly.