![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Gain Or Regain Liberty
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Rating: G
Category: SPN (wee!chesters)
Word Count: 854
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Summary: Sammy was always finding ways to leave...
“Now how in the hell does he keep doing that?”
John turned from his books and Dean from his colouring to see Sammy wandering out into the living room, dragging his stuffed monkey by the ear. He’d been most recently put in his cot for the third time in a row, a tall, wooden affair that the land lady, a woman named Marguerite who blushed whenever John smiled, had provided when she’d seen him into the place.
Dean looked solemnly back at his father and shrugged.
John advanced on Sammy, who grinned like it was all some kind of big game and dutifully raised his arms to be picked up. John carried his shaggy-haired youngest back to the bedroom he shared with his older brother and set him back in the cot. The side rails were still raised and Sammy’s head didn’t clear the top when he was standing.
John retreated to the doorway and closed the door most of the way, leaving it open a crack. He felt a small hand tug on his pants and looked down at Dean briefly, running a hand over his head and then putting a finger to his lips.
He looked back and watched Sammy move to the end of the cot, raise a leg and hook his toes over, wriggling them until his foot was clear, then wriggling that until his calf was over the side. This continued until he had a whole leg over and was able to drag himself upwards. John could see how he’d now managed to get over but it was still a fair way to the floor. John watched in amazement as Sammy then dropped into a drawer that had been left ajar on the battered bureau by his cot and then ease himself the rest of the way to the floor.
“Sammy,” John said, coming back into the room. When he scooped Sammy up, closing the drawer with an elbow, there was a look of such outraged consternation on Sammy’s face that John had to fight back a laugh.
000
John felt like he’d had his heart in his throat the entire way.
When he leapt out of the Impala, only pausing to scoop Dean aloft, who protested at being carried but John wasn’t listening; he pretty much ran the entire way to the bus depot’s security station.
There were two older security guards and a matronly-looking woman who was probably from the snack counter, seated at a desk when he got there, four year old Sammy Winchester in their midst. One of the security guards turned and offered John a sympathetic grin when he screeched to a halt in their doorway, panting for breath and Dean still a squirming bundle in his arms.
Dean finally won free and made a beeline for Sammy, tugging him off the desk and into a hug where he basically wrapped both arms around Sammy’s head as tight as he could. “You scared us!” Dean scolded.
“How did he get so far?” John demanded. His boy had been alone on a bus that managed to cross two states before anyone wised up.
“Your boy’s a clever ‘un,” the woman said, getting up from her seat. “He sat himself down next to a woman who was sleepin’ and we just… the driver thought she was his mom.”
John didn’t bother separating his boys, the death grip Dean had on Sammy not looking like it was going to ease up any time soon. He simply bent forward and grabbed them both.
000
John didn’t know how many times he’d drilled into Sammy that if he lost sight of either he or Dean, he was to stay put. “I’ll find you,” he’d said a hundred times.
It was all well and good in a forest or on a field, but Sammy seemed to forget that very important rule when in a shopping mall. John had crossed only one aisle over while Sammy was still dawdling by the board games. He still had one eye on his youngest so saw the moment Sammy froze, realising he couldn’t see his dad anymore.
Everything in Sammy seemed to bunch up and then he took off. John blinked for a moment because he hadn’t been expecting the kind of speed Sammy could put on when he wanted to. It seemed he might have been dragging his feet in training, something they would speak on later.
John ran parallel; trying to find a break in the racks that was wide enough for him to squeeze through, knowing at some point Sammy would peel away from his straight line. John shouldn’t have been worried though, because it became apparent he knew exactly where he was going. John lost sight of him for a terrifying second but then there was an almighty crash and John turned a corner, finding both his sons tangled in a heap, Dean’s most recent purchases rolling every which way.
John knew he was going to have to have another talk to Sammy about staying still but he could understand the kid’s instinct to find his brother overriding everything else.
Author:
kellifer_fic Rating: G
Category: SPN (wee!chesters)
Word Count: 854
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no offense, no money.
Summary: Sammy was always finding ways to leave...
“Now how in the hell does he keep doing that?”
John turned from his books and Dean from his colouring to see Sammy wandering out into the living room, dragging his stuffed monkey by the ear. He’d been most recently put in his cot for the third time in a row, a tall, wooden affair that the land lady, a woman named Marguerite who blushed whenever John smiled, had provided when she’d seen him into the place.
Dean looked solemnly back at his father and shrugged.
John advanced on Sammy, who grinned like it was all some kind of big game and dutifully raised his arms to be picked up. John carried his shaggy-haired youngest back to the bedroom he shared with his older brother and set him back in the cot. The side rails were still raised and Sammy’s head didn’t clear the top when he was standing.
John retreated to the doorway and closed the door most of the way, leaving it open a crack. He felt a small hand tug on his pants and looked down at Dean briefly, running a hand over his head and then putting a finger to his lips.
He looked back and watched Sammy move to the end of the cot, raise a leg and hook his toes over, wriggling them until his foot was clear, then wriggling that until his calf was over the side. This continued until he had a whole leg over and was able to drag himself upwards. John could see how he’d now managed to get over but it was still a fair way to the floor. John watched in amazement as Sammy then dropped into a drawer that had been left ajar on the battered bureau by his cot and then ease himself the rest of the way to the floor.
“Sammy,” John said, coming back into the room. When he scooped Sammy up, closing the drawer with an elbow, there was a look of such outraged consternation on Sammy’s face that John had to fight back a laugh.
John felt like he’d had his heart in his throat the entire way.
When he leapt out of the Impala, only pausing to scoop Dean aloft, who protested at being carried but John wasn’t listening; he pretty much ran the entire way to the bus depot’s security station.
There were two older security guards and a matronly-looking woman who was probably from the snack counter, seated at a desk when he got there, four year old Sammy Winchester in their midst. One of the security guards turned and offered John a sympathetic grin when he screeched to a halt in their doorway, panting for breath and Dean still a squirming bundle in his arms.
Dean finally won free and made a beeline for Sammy, tugging him off the desk and into a hug where he basically wrapped both arms around Sammy’s head as tight as he could. “You scared us!” Dean scolded.
“How did he get so far?” John demanded. His boy had been alone on a bus that managed to cross two states before anyone wised up.
“Your boy’s a clever ‘un,” the woman said, getting up from her seat. “He sat himself down next to a woman who was sleepin’ and we just… the driver thought she was his mom.”
John didn’t bother separating his boys, the death grip Dean had on Sammy not looking like it was going to ease up any time soon. He simply bent forward and grabbed them both.
John didn’t know how many times he’d drilled into Sammy that if he lost sight of either he or Dean, he was to stay put. “I’ll find you,” he’d said a hundred times.
It was all well and good in a forest or on a field, but Sammy seemed to forget that very important rule when in a shopping mall. John had crossed only one aisle over while Sammy was still dawdling by the board games. He still had one eye on his youngest so saw the moment Sammy froze, realising he couldn’t see his dad anymore.
Everything in Sammy seemed to bunch up and then he took off. John blinked for a moment because he hadn’t been expecting the kind of speed Sammy could put on when he wanted to. It seemed he might have been dragging his feet in training, something they would speak on later.
John ran parallel; trying to find a break in the racks that was wide enough for him to squeeze through, knowing at some point Sammy would peel away from his straight line. John shouldn’t have been worried though, because it became apparent he knew exactly where he was going. John lost sight of him for a terrifying second but then there was an almighty crash and John turned a corner, finding both his sons tangled in a heap, Dean’s most recent purchases rolling every which way.
John knew he was going to have to have another talk to Sammy about staying still but he could understand the kid’s instinct to find his brother overriding everything else.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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And I can just imagine Dean's face when he gets flattened by Sam. *hee* I really like this look at the boys through John's eyes, a time when life's a bit simpler and the Winchesters haven't yet slid to where they are just before the series starts. (meep.)
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The cuteness of little Sammy almost killed me!
Lovely lovely writing.
When he scooped Sammy up, closing the drawer with an elbow, there was a look of such outraged consternation on Sammy’s face that John had to fight back a laugh.
Heheh I can just imagine the look on lil Sam's face! Perfect.
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He's absolutely adorable; I can just imagine him searching for his brother primarily over his dad.
I loved it :3
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ETA: And yes, the John POV is fantastic. I bet you could keep it up!
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*flails for words*
It's just...awesome. Thank you for sharing it.
~Nebula
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I especially like the imagery of John running parallel to Sammy in the store. I can't tell you how many times I did that with my own son!
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Love the sheer bewilderment in John - and I agree with others that it becomes a foreshadow of things to come.
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Nicely done. :)
Favorite lines:
“Sammy,” John said, coming back into the room. When he scooped Sammy up, closing the drawer with an elbow, there was a look of such outraged consternation on Sammy’s face that John had to fight back a laugh.
*snickers* I love this image.
John didn’t bother separating his boys, the death grip Dean had on Sammy not looking like it was going to ease up any time soon. He simply bent forward and grabbed them both.
Aww. So sweet!
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very much liked it. sneaky little sammy getting out of where ever he was.
nice story.
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My daughter was like that-- I always wished for a leash when we'd go shopping!
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My Uncle was tied by rope in the backyard (he was forever running away apparently) and a neighbour called the police thinking it was child abuse. The cop asked who the kid was and when the neighbour said his name, the cop laughed and said, "Yes, Ma'am, I told his mother to do that."
Heheheheee...
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Also loved your wee!chester! ^_^
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