All Over The Place





Written: 19.02.01

Words: 767

Wee!Chesters


“I’m hungry.”

He sighed, hanging his head lower, grip on the counter tightening, “I know.”

There was a moment of silence as the gears in his head turned, he couldn’t keep doing this – selling drugs for money, it wasn’t right. Not only because of the obvious dangers both sketchy addicts and otherwise – but more so because it wasn’t fair to his brother.

He was supposed to be taking care of him, not going out every night after he got back from school, only to come back at 3am reeking of cigar smoke and alcohol. He knew his brother wasn’t stupid either – Sammy knew he was doing something to earn the money he had, he just prayed he wasn’t quite smart enough to figure out exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it if he found out.

“… De?”

The blondes’ head whipped up and he saw his brother, holding out the ugly neon pink piggy bank he’d bought him last Christmas. His brows furrowed, “What are you-”

“Take it.”

“Sammy, no, I can’t. It’s yours.”

The kid huffed out a breath, pushing it against his brothers’ chest hard, eyes shining with tears, “Take it!”

Dean blinked in surprise, eyeing his brother, “Sammy?”

His brothers’ bottom lip poked out and he hung his head, hair falling to cover his face, voice shaking, “Don’t… don’t go out tonight, De.”

Dean felt himself pale, oh, God, no. He sucked in a breath, “Sam, it’s okay. I’m-”

“No!” The five-year-old stomped his foot on the ground, lifting his eyes to his brother, tears streaming down his face, “You don’t need to anymore!” He shook the piggy bank, “Let me help!”

The blonde rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, debating about what to do for a moment, feeling a boulder of guilt settle into his stomach, “… Okay.”

Sammy sniffed loudly, eyeing his brother as he took the piggy bank, “You won’t go out tonight?”

Dean smiled softly, ruffling his brothers’ hair before he sat down at the table, doing his best to keep the wince off his face, “I won’t.” He uncorked the bank, coins spilling all over the table, face falling slightly as he mentally counted the coins.

Sammy jumped up into his lap and looked over the table, before turning to him, “How much is it?”

Dean hid his disappointment and chuckled, “It’s exactly what we need, Sammy. Thank-you.”

The brunette narrowed his eyes before turning back to the coins, “Are you sure?”

“Yep,” he scooped the coins off the table quickly, placing them back into the bank, “Now I can go shopping later.”

“Why don’t you go now?”

“Because,” Dean placed his brother on the ground, going to stand up, “you have to go to bed first.”

“Aw, Dean!” Sammy rolled his eyes, “I don’t wanna go to bed!”

“Uh-oh,” Dean hid a hand behind his back, face going serious, “He doesn’t like that.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Tickles!”

Sammy squealed as his brother lunged forward, tickling hand stretched out in front of him, “No! No, not Mr. Tickles!”

“You better hurry! I think he’s hungry!” Dean chased his brother up the stairs, feeling himself relax as his brother giggled.

Sammy stopped mid-way up the stairs, stopping to turn confused eyes to the blonde, “Hungry?”

Dean nodded, continuing up, “He eats five-year-olds. He tickles them to death, and then eats them.”

His brothers’ eyes went wide and he continued up the stairs, practically flinging himself onto the bed, pulling the blankets up over his head. Dean chased him in, jumping on the bed before tickling his brother over the covers, chuckling as he began laughing hysterically.

“No! Dean,” the brunette was gasping for air within minutes, “Stop!”

“Okay, okay,” he gradually stopped tickling and let his brother up from under the covers, face red from lack of oxygen. He waited a moment, relaxing as his face returned to a normal colour, before reaching for the duffle bag that was stashed under the bed, throwing some clothes at him, “Go shower.”

Sammy let out an exasperated sigh, “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Dean nodded matter-of-factly, “Unless you want Mr. Tickles to come back…”

“No! No! Okay,” Sammy hopped off the bed and ran to the doorway, pausing, “You won’t go shopping until I’m back, right?”

Dean gave him his thousand-watt-smile, “And miss story time? What do you think I am, a monster?”

Sammy smiled before disappearing around the corner. Dean starred after him, stretching himself out on the bed as he picked up one of the books on the nightstand, thanks, Sammy.


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