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Title: Five Times Sammy Lost His Shoe
Rating: G
Fandom: SPN
Category: Gen
~1~
On a Tuesday Sammy comes home with only socks on his feet. Dean watches him pad across the kitchen, waits for an explanation but Sammy is acting like nothing is out of the ordinary. He gets out a chair so he can reach the top shelf and the cereal and retrieves a box.
He is not making eye contact.
"Where are your new shoes, Sammy?" Dean asks, trying to sound casual if that's the way his little brother wants to play it.
Sammy looks down at his feet, his eyes go comically wide and he brings his head back up and says, "Huh. Must've lost 'em."
Sammy usually fits in. He has an uncanny ability to get people to like him, but as other kids go through growth spurts, Sammy has remained steadfastly small. Dean doesn't mind so much, he likes being able to effectively fold Sammy into his arms still but he knows it's becoming a problem. Suddenly Sammy isn't only the new kid, he's the runty new kid that can still fit inside one of those upright lockers and he can be as likeable as cold pie on a hot day but bigger kids are still going to feel the urge to pick on him.
"Tell me who it was so I can kick their asses to next week," Dean demands.
"I can look after myself," Sammy snaps, jutting his chin defiantly so Dean can see there's a fresh scrape under it.
Somebody got him on the ground, goddamit.
"Yeah, looks like it," Dean snorts and then could kick himself because Sammy just kind of slumps, defeated.
"You can't look after me all the time," Sammy says and holds up a hand when Dean's about to argue. "I just... I need to take care of it myself."
Dean bites his lip and it kills him to do it, but he nods.
He's just hoping Sammy doesn't stay this small forever.
~2~
"I can't believe it ate my shoe," Sam says, looking at his socked foot speculatively.
"Better than your leg," Dean points out and Sam pulls a face but then nods.
"I guess so. Man, I just bought those too."
~3~
"It just, it looks like when you wore Dad's shoes when you were twelve," Sam says, watching Dean try to stuff wadded up newspaper into the toes of Sam's boots to make them fit. He'd pulled them on because his last pair had been eaten through by swamp thing slime and he needed coffee more than he needed to go shoe shopping.
He'd figured that he and Sam would be about the same size when it came to feet if nothing else but apparently not. Dean knew he had slightly small feet relative to his size but damn.
"So, you know what they say about the size of your feet," Sam starts and Dean throws one of the wadded up pieces of newspaper at him.
~4~
Dean never felt so close to having a heart attack more than when watching ten year old Sammy darting across the road after him without looking and a big old Lincoln not stopping in time.
The car basically only grazed him, spun him about on the spot and knocked him out of his sneakers. He had some bruising but was otherwise okay.
Still.
Dean threw the shoes out and then feigned ignorance when his dad bitched about having to buy new ones. He didn't want to look at them ever again because he'd only ever see them lying on the side of the road, laces trailing in those precious few seconds when he couldn't see Sammy, hadn't known he was okay.
~5~
The goddamn cursed rabbit's foot.
Sam lost all three pairs of shoes, a surprising amount of spare change, his wallet and Dean's lucky knife.
Rating: G
Fandom: SPN
Category: Gen
On a Tuesday Sammy comes home with only socks on his feet. Dean watches him pad across the kitchen, waits for an explanation but Sammy is acting like nothing is out of the ordinary. He gets out a chair so he can reach the top shelf and the cereal and retrieves a box.
He is not making eye contact.
"Where are your new shoes, Sammy?" Dean asks, trying to sound casual if that's the way his little brother wants to play it.
Sammy looks down at his feet, his eyes go comically wide and he brings his head back up and says, "Huh. Must've lost 'em."
Sammy usually fits in. He has an uncanny ability to get people to like him, but as other kids go through growth spurts, Sammy has remained steadfastly small. Dean doesn't mind so much, he likes being able to effectively fold Sammy into his arms still but he knows it's becoming a problem. Suddenly Sammy isn't only the new kid, he's the runty new kid that can still fit inside one of those upright lockers and he can be as likeable as cold pie on a hot day but bigger kids are still going to feel the urge to pick on him.
"Tell me who it was so I can kick their asses to next week," Dean demands.
"I can look after myself," Sammy snaps, jutting his chin defiantly so Dean can see there's a fresh scrape under it.
Somebody got him on the ground, goddamit.
"Yeah, looks like it," Dean snorts and then could kick himself because Sammy just kind of slumps, defeated.
"You can't look after me all the time," Sammy says and holds up a hand when Dean's about to argue. "I just... I need to take care of it myself."
Dean bites his lip and it kills him to do it, but he nods.
He's just hoping Sammy doesn't stay this small forever.
"I can't believe it ate my shoe," Sam says, looking at his socked foot speculatively.
"Better than your leg," Dean points out and Sam pulls a face but then nods.
"I guess so. Man, I just bought those too."
"It just, it looks like when you wore Dad's shoes when you were twelve," Sam says, watching Dean try to stuff wadded up newspaper into the toes of Sam's boots to make them fit. He'd pulled them on because his last pair had been eaten through by swamp thing slime and he needed coffee more than he needed to go shoe shopping.
He'd figured that he and Sam would be about the same size when it came to feet if nothing else but apparently not. Dean knew he had slightly small feet relative to his size but damn.
"So, you know what they say about the size of your feet," Sam starts and Dean throws one of the wadded up pieces of newspaper at him.
Dean never felt so close to having a heart attack more than when watching ten year old Sammy darting across the road after him without looking and a big old Lincoln not stopping in time.
The car basically only grazed him, spun him about on the spot and knocked him out of his sneakers. He had some bruising but was otherwise okay.
Still.
Dean threw the shoes out and then feigned ignorance when his dad bitched about having to buy new ones. He didn't want to look at them ever again because he'd only ever see them lying on the side of the road, laces trailing in those precious few seconds when he couldn't see Sammy, hadn't known he was okay.
The goddamn cursed rabbit's foot.
Sam lost all three pairs of shoes, a surprising amount of spare change, his wallet and Dean's lucky knife.
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I love this so much; I love the glimpses of life with Sam & Dean, and I love love LOVE the imagery of Sammy getting knocked out of his sneakers (I'd be right there with Dean, my heart in my throat!!!) and I loved the shout out to the episode in the last one.
Great job!
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Nobody does these little vignettes as well as you do!
*applause*
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Love them.
:)
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But aw, Dean's lucky knife. Poor baby.
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I still love you for this :D
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