Tag Archives: Wee!Chesters

Bad Attitudes (Preview)

Written: 20.04.09

Words: 1,063

Wee!Chesters


“But Dean,” Sammy whined, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout, “I want to go play!”

The blonde shook his head as he tucked his brother into the motel bed, “You know the rules. You can’t play outside at night.”

He raised an eyebrow as he pointed to the still sunny window, “It’s not night time!”

Dean chuckled and shook his head, pointing to the clock, “It’s 9pm, dude.”

The 5-year-olds eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open, “B-but it’s still sunny!”

The blonde shrugged before getting up off the bed, “That’s how it is in the summer.”

“But that’s not fair!”

Dean shrugged again, “Sorry, dude. I don’t control the sun.”

Sammy crossed his arms back over his chest and pouted, absently watching his brother get dressed, “Where are you going?”

The blonde shrugged on his jacket, flashing his brother a toothy grin, “Out.”

The youngest rolled his eyes, “Well what am I supposed to do?”

“Well you could try sleeping for one.”

“I can’t sleep when it’s sunny!” He pulled a face, “I’m not a baby, y’know.”

Dean shot him a sideways glance as he sat on the edge of the other bed, pulling his shoes on, “Oh sure, pouting because you aren’t getting your way is so grown up.”


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(Goddamn) Fairytales (Preview)

Written: 19.11.18

Words: 2,586

Wee!Chesters, (2019’s X-Mas Fic)


She pointed to the stairs, “I left the suit on the bed.”

He groaned before standing, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “Why do I have to dress up?”

“Because they deserve it.” She looked around the rundown house and sighed, “It’s not like we have an abundance of holiday cheer in here.”

“I don’t-”

“For Gods’ sake, you told Dean about monsters this year!” She spun around, slamming the bottles down, “I want him to know that doesn’t mean there isn’t still good out there.”

John blinked at her in surprise, taking a few steps toward her before letting out a heavy sigh, scrubbing a hand through his hair, changing directions, “O-okay. I’ll go.”

“Thank-you,” she picked the bottles back up before disappearing into the kitchen. “Be ready to leave in fifteen.”

“…Why?”

“You have to get Deans’ pie.”

He stopped halfway up the stairs, “You didn’t make one?”

She poked her head out of the kitchen doors, giving him a bewildered look, “I’m sorry, have we met?”

He chuckled before starting back up them, “Right. Sorry.”

 

 

“Well? Whaddya say?” Mary held out the box of decorations, smile plastered on her face.

“Hell yeah!” Dean snatched the box, before running over to the undecorated tree, thousand-watt smile lighting his features.

Sam shook his head before joining his brother, digging out a box of big, blue glass bulbs.

Dean dug out the garlands, wrapping it around his hand before using it as a whip, chuckling, “Hey look! I’m Indiana Jones!”

Mary chuckled and shook her head, “Be careful with those, Dean.”

Sam smiled as he placed a bulb on the tree, “This is awesome, Mom! Just like I always imag-” he cut himself off and blinked, as if just noticing what was happening.

Mary made her way over to him, slightly crouching, “What’s wrong, Sammy?”

His brows creased in confusion and he looked around, “I… I don’t…” He chewed his lip as he turned his gaze out the window, catching a glimpse of something he couldn’t make out, “This doesn’t seem…. right.”


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I’ll Wreck This If I Have To (Preview)

Finished: 19.07.18

Words: 4,273

TW: Suicide (Attempt – briefly mentioned, not graphic), Destiel, Wee!Chesters


“Of course I know how to hunt.” Dean huffed, how can I explain without sounding crazy? “Something… weird is going on, Cas. I- shit, I don’t even know how to explain it.”

Cas nodded before slowly reaching for the doorknob, “I’ll examine you in more depth after we kill the Alpha.”

Maybe it’s some sort of curse… he pulled the machete out of his jacket, hand white-knuckling around the handle, or African Dream Root. That would explain all the… scene changes.

“De?”

The blonde sighed and turned to his left, surprised to see a five-year-old, who looked oddly like Sam did when he was younger. He looked around, not that surprised to see the scene had changed yet again, and he was now in a dingy motel room, at least this is familiar.

He strode over to the bed the child was on, “Where’re your parents, Bud?”

The brunette tilted his head to one side, bangs falling into his eyes, “… Dad’s working.”

Shoulda seen that coming, he sat on the edge of the bed, doing his best to keep calm, “Okay… what’s your name?”

This caused the 5-year-old to squeal with laughter, flopping backwards against the pillows, “It’s me, De! Told you you wouldn’t rec’nize me!”

Definitely gotta be Dream Root, “… Sammy?”

The kid nodded, smiling a big, toothy grin at the blonde, and he noted the missing front tooth. Sammy reached under his pillow and pulled the tooth out, holding it out for the blonde to inspect.

This is too weird. I don’t think I’ve dreamt about Sam this young since… ever. Dean took the tooth and blew out a whistle, “This came out of you? No way.”

Sammy giggled again, snatching the tooth back from his brother, satisfied smile on his face, “Told you it was loose!”

“Okay, smarty-pants,” Dean chuckled, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, how am I gonna wake up? “Whaddya say we get you to sleep now?”

Sam poked out his bottom lip, shaking his head, “But I’m not tired!”

Oh!  I know. Don’t really want him to see it though. “If you don’t go to sleep, the Tooth Fairy can’t get your tooth,” The blonde got up off the bed, making his way over to the bathroom.

Sammys’ eyes went wide before he dove under the covers, “I didn’t know you had to be asleep!”

“Yep, just like Santa.” Dean stopped in the doorway, turning back to the bed, “So you’ll sleep?”

The five-year-old nodded his head so violently his bangs shook wildly around, before he all but head-butted the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. Dean smiled at him before closing the bathroom door, locking it.

He plucked his fathers’ razor off the side of the sink, digging out one of the blades, stopping as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Whoa, I didn’t think I’d be younger, he shook his head at his younger reflection, turning his attention back to the razor blade, bringing it to his left wrist, time to wake up.

 

 

 

Dean groaned, stretching his arms out over his head, bed sheets. That’s either good or… He sat up slowly, looking around before shaking his head, damn it. He was back in the fancy bedroom. If I wasn’t dreaming, then what the hell-

Wait a minute, Dean slid out of bed and crouched on the floor, peering down at the trim on the bottom of the wall, what is this? He jumped back as he saw the thing move, is it a bug? Whoa! Definitely not a bug, he crept a bit closer as he watched the thing jump in front of him. Carefully, he stretched one hand toward it, picking the end of it up off the floor, it looks like… words? His brows’ furrowed as he turned it around in his hand, silently lip-reading. “Rachel smells bad.”

“Dean,” Cas craned his neck to see the page, “that’s not what it says.”

“No, it is, I swear!” Dean held the book up out-

What the hell? This is… me? Whoa! He nearly dropped it as it as it leapt forward in his hand again, it gets bigger every time I think something? Where the hell did this come from? He looked around the rest of the room, and saw that the string went all the way around the base of the wall, and snaked its way under the door, guess I’m going on an adventure.

Dean began wrapping the string around his hand, doing his best to tie it up so he could move, this has got to be some kind of curse or something. He sighed as the string expanded again and fell from his hand. How am I supposed to carry this if it gets bigger every time I- He stood, eyes catching on the pillows on the bed, worth a shot. He strode over, shaking the closest pillow out of it’s case before scooping up as much of the string as he could, before slinging the sack over his shoulder and heading for the door, this ends now.


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All Over The Place (Preview)

Written: 19.02.01

Words: 767


“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 his body for money, it wasn’t right. Not only because of the obvious dangers both disease 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!”


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Stay That Way (Preview)

Started: 18.10.13

Finished: 18.11.30

Words: 2,111

Wee!Chesters (2018’s X-Mas Fic)


Bobby awoke startled, hearing a loud crash from the kitchen, what in the hell…? He was out of his chair in an instant, stalking his way over to the kitchen doors, hand on his gun, mentally running through the salt-line check he’d done before falling asleep.

He opened the door and sighed in relief as he saw the five-year old jump up from the floor.

“Jesus, Boy, you almost gave me a heart attack,” he leaned himself against the door, eyes roaming over the flour-covered counter, “Whatcha doing, Sammy?”

The brunette swallowed thickly and ‘hid’ a cookie sheet behind his back, eyes threatening to spill over with tears, “… Nothing,” at the mans’ eyebrow raise he sighed in defeat, bottom lip poking out, “I-I’ll clean it up…”

“Clean up?” Bobby craned his neck a bit so he could see over the counter and noted the un-cooked cookies that littered the floor, “Now why would you do that?”

Sammy blinked in surprise as Bobby got an apron out of the closet, “… What?”

Bobby’s heart broke, John what the hell have you done to this boy? He took the cookie sheet from the child and placed it on the counter, before winking, grabbing the mixing bowl, “We can’t let you destroy the kitchen for nothing.”

 

 

“Wow,” Sammy was practically laying on the counter, watching the cookies cool on a wire rack.

Bobby chuckled as he washed the last of the dishes, “You’d think you’d never seen a cookie before.”

“I’ve seen cookies,” he rolled his eyes, “I just can’t believe I made these!”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”

“I know you helped but still…” he reached out to touch one, recoiling as it burnt his finger, “These look like real cookies. Like the ones you get at a store!” He turned to the older man, “I can’t believe we turned eggs and milk and all that stuff into these! It’s like magic!”

Bobby did his best to hold in his laughter, “Yeah, cooking is pretty cool.”

“Definitely,” he tilted his head a bit to the side, “… can making cookies be a job?”

“Yep,” Bobby leaned against the counter, taking a swig from his beer, “They’re called bakers.”

“Really?” his eyes went wide and he gave a thousand-watt smile, “That’s so cool! Do you think…” he bit his lip and averted his eyes, smile fading, “Do you think I could do that?”

“’Course.”

“But won’t Dad-”

“It doesn’t matter what John says,” he narrowly stopped himself from hitting the counter, “I mean,” he took a deep breath, “you should do whatever you want to do. Don’t worry if John doesn’t understand. Do what makes you happy.”

Sammy nodded before turning back to the cookies, “I want to make these every day!”

Bobby smiled, going over to ruffle his hair, “Then you do that.”

Just then, the boys heard a rumble from outside, the Impala.

Sammys’ face lit up again and he practically jumped off the counter, running to the front door, “They’re back!”

The brunette sped to the front hall before – much to Bobbys’ surprise – bee lining for the stairs, bedroom door slamming shut.


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Candy Coma (Preview)

Written On: 18.11.02-03

Words: 1,122


“You can not where that.”

Sammys’ face fell, and he took the dollar store fangs out of his mouth, “B-but why?”

“Pfft, what do you mean why? Because we-” Dean caught himself. He took a moment, raking his brain for an acceptable excuse, and gestured vaguely at the costume, “It’s… y’know…”

The youngest frowned and looked down at himself, hands tightening into fists around the cape, “It’s the only costume we have.”

“Sorry, Sammy, it’s just…,” he strode a few paces to one of the beds, trying to swallow down the guilt he was feeling, “Dad would freak if he saw it.”

“Why?”

The blonde flopped himself down, starring at the ceiling while letting out a heavy sigh, “Cause, Sammy he just…” how am I supposed to explain this without telling him? “… doesn’t like Halloween.”

“But why?”

“Because he just doesn’t, okay?” Dean waved a dismissive hand toward his brother, “Now, go… do whatever it is you do.”

His brother cast his gaze to the floor, hands wrapping the cape tighter around himself, “But you said we could go Trick Or Treating.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it, damn it, “I don’t know if I want to go. I’m tired.”

“… You said we could finally go this year.”

“I know, and now I’m saying I don’t wanna,” he paused, lifting his head to look at his brother, “It’s not like the people here will have candy, anyway.”

“But… but,” the disappointment in his brothers’ voice pulled at his heart strings, “You promised!”

Dean shook his head, flopping it back against the pillow, “I know I promised, but things change,” he sat up, “Did you really think Dad was gonna let you go anyway?”

The youngests’ eyes were brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering. His brows creased in anger, hands falling away from his cape, before he stamped his foot, “Fine!” and made a beeline for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Dean rolled his eyes and got off the bed, padding over to the bathroom, “C’mon, Sammy, don’t be like that.”

“Go away!”

“Sammy-”

“Leave me alone!”


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Friggin’ Siblings (Preview)

Written: 17.11.13

Words: 851

Wee!Chesters


Sam huffed, before going back to the bed, are all brothers’ this annoying? Or did I get a special one? He starred at the wall, trying to think of a way he could get even with his brother.

Just then, their dad came in, he strode over to the first bed, gruffly throwing his duffle down, while sliding another out from under it.

“Where’s your brother?” He threw a few different things back and forth between bags, not bothering to look up.

“H-he’s in the shower,” Sammy watched his father in part fascination, part worry.

John zipped one of the bags closed before tossing the other one back to the floor, kicking it back under the bed.

“Is everything okay?” Sammy couldn’t tell if his dad was scared or pissed.

The eldest wretched the door open, pausing a moment to finally look at his son, “I leave in five minutes.”

With that, he was gone. Sammy blinked, did he want me to tell him? His eyes drifted back to the bathroom door, Dean did want to go… Sammy sat on the bed, torn. On the one hand, Dean seemed really excited to go on a hunt, on the other, hunting was dangerous. Sammy had seen how badly some hunts could go, and it was more often then not that they both had to play nurse to John afterward. He didn’t even say what he was hunting… His eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. He sighed before getting back off the bed, knocking on the door.

“Don’t tell me you have to go again already!”

“No, Dean, I-”

“You really need to get that looked at!”

“Dean, stop, I’m-”

“Maybe when dad gets back he can take you to the doctor. That is not natural!”

Sammys’ hands balled into fists at his sides, “Dean!

He stormed back into the bathroom, giving the shower curtain a death-glare.

“Sammy, what the hell?” A bottle of shampoo came flying out from behind the curtain, “Get out!”


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Patient Monsters

Written: 14.07.11

Wee!Chesters with mentions of Abusive!John.


“De, I don’ feel good.” Sammy pouted from the bed, keeping his arm around his stomach.

“I know, Sammy. I’m gonna make it better, though.” Dean replied, walking carefully over to the bed with a bowl of soup.

“Promise?” Sammy sniffed.

Dean carefully set the soup down on the bed before climbing up onto the bed himself, scooting in as close as possible to the youngest, stretching out his arm, holding out his pinky for the little one to grab.

Sammy followed his brother’s lead and stuck out his pinky too, allowing the older to wrap his around it, sealing the deal.

“Of course, Sammy. It’s my job.” Dean stated, smiling and ruffling his brother’s hair.

Sammy gave his brother a weak smile and chuckle, having it end in a fit of coughs with the elder rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Where’s Daddy?” Sammy asked.

“He went to go get some medicine for you.” Dean replied, scooting up so he was resting against the headboard beside his brother, still holding the soup.

“Yuck.” Sammy said, pulling a face.

“C’mon Sammy, if you don’t take it you won’t get better.” Dean reasoned, sliding the soup over to his brother.

“Not hungry.” Sammy said, sliding the bowl back.

“Sammy.” Dean warned, using his ‘Dad voice’.

“De.” Sammy mimicked, scrunching his face up and pushing his bottom lip out.

“You have to eat so you’ll get better.”

“I have to do lots to get better.” Sammy stated, pointing an accusing finger to his brother.

“Not my fault you got sick. I told you eating grass was bad for you.” Dean countered, smiling.

“I don’t eat grass!” Sammy exclaimed, his eyes going wide with horror.

“No, but you do eat it’s cousin.”

“No I don’t!” Sammy replied, shaking his head furiously.

“Yeah, think about it Sammy, if they weren’t related then why are they the same colour?” Dean asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Sammy scrunched up his face in his thinking expression and was quiet for a moment, unaware that he’d picked the spoon up out of the bowl and put it in his mouth. Dean chuckled at that – Sammy wasn’t thinking unless he had some sort of object in his mouth. It went well with his giant puppy eyes and feet, Dad kept saying that Sammy would grow into his feet and be giant, taller than Dean. Dean didn’t agree with that, but you didn’t tell Dad when you didn’t agree with him – then he’d get mad and that was worse than just agreeing with him.

“I still don’t think that’s right.” Sammy finally stated around the spoon in his mouth.

He looked down his nose confused and took the spoon out of his mouth, placing it back in the bowl. Sammy’s head whipped up and over to the window, before he scrambled off the bed, knocking the soup over as he went.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed at the mess of soup.

Dean slapped a hand over his mouth and his eyes shot wide with what he’d said, hoping for a moment that his brother didn’t hear it. He looked up to where he was and saw Sammy skid to a halt and turned around slowly, his eyes big with shock.

“You used a grown-up word.” Sammy stated, his eyes still big.

Dean just shook his head, unable to find his voice.

“You used a grown-up word.”

“N-no I didn’t.” Dean replied, still shaking his head, sliding off the bed to stand.

Dean looked up to the window as he heard the familiar rumble of Dad’s car.

Uh-oh. Dean thought.

Sam’s eyes got even bigger and he looked toward the door, no doubt frightened now that their dad was close enough for Dean to hear the car.

“Sammy, look at me.” Dean started, rushing over to his brother, holding him by his small shoulders.

Sam reluctantly looked at his older brother, not sure of how to handle this, but at the same time trusting Dean to take care of it.

“Dad won’t know what I said if we don’t tell him, right? And if Dad doesn’t know-”

“He can’t get mad.” Sammy finished, his look not changing.

“Exactly, and I know that I’m not going to tell him…” Dean baited, waiting to see if Sammy would clue in.

“I won’t tell him!” Sammy exclaimed, face going shocked that his brother would assume something like that.

Dean smiled and patted his shoulders before pointing to their bed. Sammy nodded and walked back, stopping when he reached the side to look back at his brother, his frightened expression back.

“The soup.” Sammy said, eyes getting watery.

“Sammy, it’s okay, I’ll take care of it.” Dean promised.

Sammy didn’t look too certain but hoped back onto the bed anyway, trusting his brother. Just as soon as Sammy was settled back under the blankets, the door swung open to reveal a very tired and pissed looking John, who also just so happened to smell what Sammy called ‘the bad stuff’.

“Dean, what’re you doing up?” John questioned, narrowing his eyes at his eldest.

“Watching out for Sammy.” Dean replied, automatically straightening up and puffing out his chest.

John looked toward the bed, where the youngest was pretending to sleep, so he wouldn’t have to talk to his father. When he smelled like the bad stuff, he was a lot angrier and harder to talk to, the boys had found that out the hard way.

“Sammy’s sleeping.” John stated, as if it were a question, as he raised his eyebrow at the eldest.

“He hasn’t been feeling well.” Dean reminded, opting to not say the ‘I’ve already told you’ before it – that wouldn’t end very well.

“You test him?” John asked, walking over to the youngest.

“Test him?” Dean questioned, following his father’s lead and walking closer to the bed.

“To make sure he’s still him.” John clarified, apparently annoyed at having to spell it out to his son.

“He’s not possessed Dad.” Dean answered, sitting down on the edge of his father’s bed.

“He wetting the bed again?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then why is there a giant puddle on the bed?” John demanded, spinning around to face the eldest, his face set in a snarl.

Dean visibly leaned himself back slightly, trying to get away from the monster standing in front of him.

“I, uh, I spilled the holy water, when I tested him. That’s how I know he’s not possessed.” Dean lied quickly.

“You wasted the holy water?” John shouted, pulling Dean up by the collar.

He brought his eldest close to his face, so they were only inches apart – so Dean could smell the bad stuff on his breath. Dean could feel himself shaking, despite having every vessel of his being concentrated on not showing John how weak he was. Sometimes, if he was lucky and his body listened to his brain, his dad wouldn’t hurt him, he’d leave him alone and just go right to sleep.

It didn’t seem like his body got that memo today.

John threw the kid across the motel room, sending him crashing on top of the table against the opposite wall. Dean bit his lip as he landed, trying not to cry out in pain, another lesson he learned the hard way not to do. John started toward him when Sammy whimpered from the bed, stopping John in his tracks. Dean raised his head slowly and tried to blink the water out of his eyes, so he could see his brother, instead of just a blurry brown blob poking out of the yellow sheets.

“What?” John spat, making the lump shake with fright.

John started toward his youngest now, his face no doubt twisted into one of disgust at ‘the thing that ruined their family’ as John so often stated. Dean clenched his teeth and did his best to roll off the table, landing hard on his back, but sighed a slight sigh of relief as it’d diverted John’s angry attention back toward himself. He shakily got to his feet, keeping himself steady with one hand on the table, the other wrapped around his middle in pain.

“Embrace the pain Dean, be a man!” John yelled, walking toward the mentioned.

“J-just close your eyes, Sammy. I-it’ll be okay.” Dean ground out, wincing as the movement sent a flare of pain up into his jaw.

Dean saw the mess of brown hair disappear under the yellow sheets and felt himself relax slightly now that he knew Sammy wouldn’t be watching. That kid did not need anything else to think about in that giant head of his. John was now standing about a foot in front of the oldest, looking down at him as if he wanted to eat him. Some days, Dean didn’t think he would do that, sure his dad was tough, but he’d never eat somebody.

Other days, (days much like this) he had trouble convincing himself of that.

“Did you get Sammy’s medicine?” Dean asked, looking the monster right in his blood shot eyes.

“Sammy’s medicine?” John repeated, looking confused, instead of angry.

It’s really the little things that made Dean’s day.

“You said you’d get him some before you left.” Dean stated, looking expectantly at his father.

“He needs medicine?” John mumbled, looking down at the carpet, more to himself than his son.

“Yeah, Dad, I’d told you at least five times before you left.” Dean continued, feeling himself starting to get angry.

John looked back to the bed holding the mentioned for a moment before looking back and looking desperate.

“I- I didn’t think…” He breathed, as if trying to work through everything for the first time.

“Yeah well you should’ve Dad. Jesus, you promised!” Dean exclaimed, crossing his arms and glaring at the man before him.

John’s eyes got big as if he’d just remembered what he’d said and he fell to his knees in front of his son, reaching out for him, eyes desperate and pleading.

“I-I’ll go now. I’ll go get him some now.” John bargained, voice raised an octave.

“You can drive like this?” Dean questioned.

Even though he’d said ‘like this’ he knew his Dad heard ‘this drunk’ instead.

John nodded his head fervently, wild eyes seeking out the hardened gaze of his oldest.

“Ten minutes.”

Before the last syllable was out of his mouth, John had gotten up and rushed out the door, starting the Impala in record time, no doubt leaving tire marks from stepping on the gas so hard before speeding away.

Dean let out a breath and deflated as he heard the rumble of the car fade, he could once again relax. He flicked his eyes up to the bed and walked up to it as he heard soft sniffling noises.

“Sammy?” Dean asked softly, laying a hand on part of the lump under the covers, to what he really hoped was his brother’s leg.

The mess of brown hair popped out from the yellow and turned toward the direction of the voice. There was a shake of it and then two giant hazel eyes could be seen between the hairs.

“You okay?” Sammy asked, voice barely audible.

“Course I’m okay.” Dean replied, smiling brightly at him.

Dean climbed up onto the bed and pulled his brother carefully out from under the blankets. The second he was freed from the yellow cocoon he latched his arms around his brother’s neck and buried his face into his chest, trying not to cry.

“It’s okay Sammy.” Dean cooed, rubbing circles into his back.

“He still hates me.” Sammy cried, letting his tears fall.

“No, Sammy, he doesn’t hate you. He just…” Dean trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“Doesn’t want me anymore.” Sammy mumbled into his chest.

“Sammy c’mon, you know that’s not true. He loves you.” Dean said, nuzzling his cheek onto the top of his head.

“He loves you.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“He does.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Sammy.”

“De.”

Sammy started laughing as his brother started tickling him, not liking how sad he was. Soon, Sam was rolling around on the bedspread, face red from the effort of laughing so hard. Dean was smiling too, glad that he managed to cheer up his brother, and also glad that his Dad still wasn’t back yet.

“De, s-stop!” Sammy squealed, rolling around trying to get away from his hands.

“Alright, alright.” Dean agreed, before falling down onto the bed beside his brother.

Sam looked at him curiously before scooting toward him until their foreheads were touching.

“You can go to sleep now Sammy.” Dean said, his voice soft.

Sam shook his head, shaking his hair into his face.

“It’ll be okay Sammy, I’ll protect you. I promise.”

With those reassuring words, Sam allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

 

 

“C’mon Dean, you gotta eat it.” Sammy pouted, holding the spoon in front of his mouth.

Dean shook his head back and forth, not trusting his brother to not shove it into his mouth if he did open it.

“De, you gotta eat it or else you won’t get better.” Sam said, plopping the spoon down into the bowl of soup between them.

“I have to do lots of stuff to get better.” Dean replied smiling at his brother.

“It’s not my fault you got sick.” Sammy stated, sticking his tongue out.

“Yes it is! You’re the one who got me sick!” Dean exclaimed with no real heat.

Sammy smiled and reached forward, ruffling his brother’s hair much to his dislike.

“When’s Dad coming back?” Dean asked, glad that he managed to steer the conversation away from him eating.

“He said ‘soon’.” Sammy replied, doing his best John impression for the last word.

That got his brother to chuckle and ruffle Sam’s own hair. Sammy cried out but before lunging for his brother he carefully moved the soup to the bedside table.

“Don’t need a repeat.” He mumbled as he set it down before turning back to the oldest.

“Oh, c’mon Sammy, it wasn’t that bad.” Dean said.

“He hurt you De, because of me.” Sammy replied, looking down to his lap.

“No Sammy.” Dean disagreed, his voice going hard, making his brother look up.

“Not your fault. Never your fault.”

“Okay.” Sammy agreed, nodding before watching Dean sink back down into the bed, letting out a breath.

Sammy wiggled himself right up beside his brother, their sides touching.

“Sammy, if Dad comes back-”

“Don’t you worry De. I’ll take of it.” Sammy stated.

“But Sammy what if-”

“I promise. Just go to sleep.” Sammy replied, cutting his brother off.

Sam waited up until he felt Dean’s breathes even out, letting him know he’d fallen asleep himself, keeping his eyes on the door as he pet Dean’s hair.

“I’ll protect you.”


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