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“Go away!” you yelled from the bathroom.Dean didn’t know what to do. John had left on a hunt more than a week before, and he was alone with you and Sam since then. Your brother was sleeping soundly on his ed – the kid could sleep through an earthquake – but you had locked yourself in the bathroom and didn’t want to leave.“Y/N,” he called for what felt like the 100th time. “Y/N, please, get out.”You’d been there since you woke up that morning.“No!”You and Sam were 13, a very awkward age for the whole family. Out of nowhere, his little brother was getting taller and taller, and his little sister needed bras!He moved to sit on your bed, sitting down, and his eyes widened when his eyes fell on the print of blood on the sheets.Oh.His face reddened from forehead to neck when he realised what’d just happened, and he walked to Sam, shaking his shoulder.“Hey, get up,” he insisted. “Get up.”“What?” Sam opened his eyes, his voice groggy and confused.“I’m going out. Take care of Y/N. I’ll be back in ten.”The boy sat up, but Dean walked out quickly.He hid his hands in his pockets, holding the little money he could pick from what he’d have on his way to the drug-store. He wouldn’t let you use fabric or toilet paper to what you needed, even if he needed to steal or starve for that.“Hello,” a woman smiled openly, and he stepped back, surprised for a moment. “Can I help you?”“My sister needs girl stuff,” he blurted out, blushing deeply. “Those… Things you stick to panties.”“Sanitary pads?” she questioned, politely.He nodded, furiously embarrassed. It should have been a just buy it and leave, not a full conversation about what you put or didn’t in places he didn’t want to know.“Follow me, please.”It should have been a
just buy it and leave,
not a full conversation about what you put or didn’t in places
he didn’t want to know.“Follow me, please.”The girl picked two boxes from the shelves and walked to the balcony.“Is that the first time it happens?” she questioned gently.She wanted to giggle. The boy – clearly 18 yet – was flustered and didn’t want to look at his face. When he entered, she first thought he was there to steal something: He had his hands in his pockets, seemed to be hiding his face and had a dangerous posture in his body. She almost called the police when she realised he was staring deeply at the shelf with the sanitary pads with a very intense and confused look in his eyes.It was rare to see boys there for such products and, when they did come, they had a very detailed list of things to buy. This kid was alone and confused.“Yes,” he muttered.She nodded.“Maybe you’ll want a heating pad and some Midol too? They help with the cramps.”He frowned.“Cramps?”She chuckled. He really didn’t know what he was doing.“She will sure know what I’m talking about,” she smiled. “I take it as your mum is going to explain to her how to use them?”His face changed with the question, from embarrassment and confusion to utter sadness.“My mom… She…” he struggled to finish the phrase. “There’s… There’s no mom.”She lost her smile.
Poor kid.“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m sorry for your loss.”“It’s okay,” he muttered. “It’s been a long time.”They didn’t talk more, the kid was too sad and she was too embarrassed to say anything else, though he was the one who broke the silence when he saw the price of everything together.“I don’t have that much,” he said, almost to himself, when he read the numbers in the monitor. It was more than he expected. “Don’t you have cheaper versions of everything? I’m sure she won’t mind.”Oh, and there was that look again on his face. The sadness.Dean wanted to curse himself. He didn’t have the money, not even at home. He’d bought some stuff for you and Sam, candy that your brother had begged him for, and now he didn’t have money to afford something you actually needed.
If only he had been more careful with the spendings.He didn’t know the period would give you pain, or that you needed to much stuff. He didn't have half of the money he needed to pay for the sanitary stuff and the pills and the heating pad, but he didn’t want to see you in pain.‘I don’t have to eat much,’
he decided to himself. ‘I can let go of a bit more money. Sam and Y/N won’t notice.’“What’s your name?” the woman questioned, making him look at her.“Dean, ma’am.”“Alright, Dean,” she packed the stuff in a paper bag. “This is for you.”He frowned.“I didn’t pay.”She shook her head.“Don’t have to,” she shrugged. “There is a pamphlet inside the bag, tell your sister to read it and fill the heating pad with hot water. It will help her, “The first day is usually the worst.”He was ready to protest, to say something, but someone called her inside and soon the woman was gone. He waited and waited, but ended up walking away. He wouldn’t refuse a gift.Dean almost didn’t look at Sam when he entered the room you all shared, walking directly to the bathroom door.“I got something for you,” he said when you didn’t answer.He didn’t think it would work
but looked at you in surprise when he saw your eyes on the opening door, giving you the paper bag.“There’s a pamphlet there. It will tell you what you need to know about…
That.”You glanced at the bag when he gave it to you, and then at him.“Thanks, Dean,” you whispered.“You’re welcome.”He got you new clothes and a towel, and made your favourite food – which he’d gotten last time the three of you went grocery shopping – and when you came out of the bathroom, he offered it to you with a word. With the bathroom free, he used the hot water to fill the heating pad and found a something to wrap around it, offering it to you when you finished cleaning the utensils.“Go rest,” he muttered. “The lady said the first day is the worst.”You felt your cheeks hot but followed his words, laying down on the bed and curling around the heating pad when pain crossed your midsection.“Thanks, Dee,” you whispered.In response, he leant down and kissed your forehead.“It’s alright.”