Sam wriggled free from his brother's arms at the sound of his mother's scream, fleeing from their room with Dean in close pursuit.
Dean felt panicked, he couldn't let something happen to Sammy, he just couldn't. He was the big brother, he had to look out for Sam.
Sam stopped short at their parent's room, however. Allowing Dean to reach him as he stared wide-eyed at something.
Dean looked up and felt a whimper of fear escape his lips. The tall man had their mother by the throat, holding her up against the wall as he stabbed her in the stomach. Dean grabbed Sammy's hand as they watched their mother's blood drip steadily to the ground, quickly turning to a steady flow that turned the creamy carpet a dark red.
Dean could tell Sammy was about to break out of his grasp, he also suddenly knew that he couldn't save his mummy. He had to look after Sammy now.
The man had dropped their mum and was wiping his knife on his jeans. He hadn't spotted them yet, so Dean grabbed Sam's arm tighter and pulled him away from the scene. Dean knew Sam couldn't run fast, so, for now, they had to hide and he knew just the place. He leads Sam down the hall, pulling him into their dad's office. There was a small closet at the back of the room, and Dean remembered watching their daddy hide things in a secret compartment at the back, valuables that they wanted to protect.
Sam was crying now, silent tears that fell steadily from his cheeks. Dean wanted to cry too, but he had to stay strong for Sammy. So instead he worked on opening the closet door quietly. Pushing Sam inside, he closed the door behind them and fumbled in the darkness for the hidden loose panel. Plying it aside, the two small boys wriggle into the tight space, letting the board fall back into place.
Inside, there was barely enough room for them, they were squished tightly together with Sammy pretty much sitting on top of his brother.
"We gotta be quiet now, okay Sammy?" Dean whispered.
Sam whimpers, but Dean could feel him nodding in the darkness.
"Hey kiddos, where are you?" The cruel voice that called out would haunt Dean's dreams in the years to come.
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, they both stayed as still as possible as they heard the footsteps come into the study. Light suddenly streamed in through the small crack in the closet door and then the wooden plank. The door swung open, the light brighter as it comes through the gap in the wood.
The man let out a frustrated grunt as he slammed the door shut and stomped out of the room. Dean breathed out in relief as they heard his footsteps fading into the distance as he went downstairs.
Dean pushed the wooden plank aside and they hurriedly rush from the room. Dean intended to run down to the front door, but Sammy tore free from his grip as they passed their parents room and rushed to their mum's side.
Sam knelt beside their mummy, sobbing quietly as he reached out and touched her. Blood was seeping into his pyjamas from the carpet, getting over his hands as he shook her. Dean knelt beside him, momentarily forgetting about their need to run as he starred at his mummy. He could feel blood getting all over himself too and couldn't stop himself from reaching out and touching her gently.
Then he could hear the man yelling out for them and stood up, pulling Sam with him. The smaller boy was reluctant to move, still staring at their mum as Dean struggled to get him moving. Finally, Sam started to move, and they leave their parent's room for the last time.
They run down the hall, sliding down the stairs. Sammy was too small to run fast, his chubby legs waddling along as Dean dragged him through the kitchen. Neither of them looked at the dark form on the ground over by the lounge. Dean didn't want to see what it really was.
He just wanted his mummy and daddy to help them. But they weren't going to and he realised he had to be the grown-up for Sammy's sake.
The front door was locked, and Dean struggled to lean up and grab the deadbolt. He managed to wiggle it until it was open by the tips of his fingers. loud footsteps started coming closer, from the lounge, and Dean began to panic.
Finally, he managed to swing the door open, pulling a pale Sammy out behind him.
"Oi you brats, get back here!" The man had heard the door and Dean could hear him running towards them.
Out into the front yard, the two young boys ran for their lives, crying for their dead parents as they ran past the cheerfully painted mailbox and through the small wooden gate. Along the white picketed fence that their dad had painted. Past the house where the annoying little boy lived. Sam and Dean kept running, as fast as their short legs would take them.
That night the Winchester family had suffered a great loss, and the next morning neighbours would gather around the yellow police tape, some curious, some weeping and some thinking of the little boys that were now orphaned.
Sam and Dean were found a block away. Covered in blood and tears. The kind couple who had found them on their front lawn called the cops immediately, and the shocked boys were whisked away to the hospital.
The police didn't manage to catch the murderer. It immediately became the most important open case that they had.
As for the boys, they had suffered the biggest loss that anyone could ever imagine that night, and for them, there was only more hardships to come.