![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year
Rating/Warning: PG (Language)
Wordcount: 651
Fandom: SPN
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Category: Gen
Disclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
Summary: Prompt - Castiel looking after a de-aged Dean
“The thing is,” Sam says, looking more than a little flustered and also glancing back at the motel room like he’s afraid Dean will emerge before he can get out what he needs to say. “There’s this curse.”
Castiel watches Sam patiently, wondering what could be so bad. Neither he nor Dean have shown any signs of being afflicted with anything. “You need my help?” he prompts because Sam had called him and that had never happened before. He knows they’d gotten off to a rocky start and he got the impression that Sam was starting to regret his existence and his role in Dean’s life but he also seemed to be tentatively accepting that Castiel was one of the few beings genuinely on their side.
“Yes but-” Sam now looks pained. “I don’t want it to be a thing.”
“I am thing-less,” Castiel offers and doesn’t understand really what he’s said when Sam’s mouth twitches. He’s forever amusing both brothers and they rarely, if ever, explain exactly why.
“I need you to...” Sam casts about for a second like he’s searching for the best way to phrase his request. “Babysit,” he finally settles on.
“Babysit?” Castiel asks. He understands the concept, has read some junior fiction related to the matter about a particular club that dealt with that very thing but he doesn’t understand how it can possibly be something Sam needs.
“I need to leave tonight if I’m going to reach Bobby in time to help with that sprite infestation in Robe and Dean has to stay here.”
“I’m not quite sure I understand what you’re asking for,” Castiel says and Sam sighs.
“You will in the morning,” Sam says, moving towards the Impala, hitching his duffel over his shoulder. “Dean will be pissed but I’ll explain it all when I get back,” Sam says and then turns just before he slides into the driver’s side of the car. “Just.. don’t give him any sugar.”
000
Castiel’s never been particularly homicidal but he can now understand the urge as he watches the tiny tornado that Dean has become rage around the motel room the next morning.
Dean is... little. Castiel can’t guess at an age because all small humans look generically the same to him but if he had to hazard a guess he would say between four and six.
What’s most unsettling is that mentally Dean is still Dean, swearing and all.
“I can’t believe he would do this, the absolute jackass,” Dean snarls in a high, sweet voice. “That goddamn motherfucking-”
“Dean,” Castiel says and then fights the urge to step backwards when Dean levels a poisonous glare in his direction. “Sam only has your well being in his thoughts.”
“He’s going to have his ass in his thoughts when I stuff his head up it,” Dean spits, tossing clothes around. He’s all fury but Castiel finds himself charmed by the picture Dean creates in an adult-sized shirt that reaches his shins, having had to abandon the boxer shorts he went to sleep in when they puddled around his ankles when he slid out of bed. Dean practically disappears inside his duffel when he finds it and comes out with a small backpack that Castiel’s never seen before.
“Have you never been able to find a way to break this curse?” Castiel asks.
“Sure, years ago,” Dean says, rolling his eyes and yanking on a pair of small jeans that come out of the backpack. Castiel can see a small green t-shirt and a black overshirt on the floor where Dean dumped them. “I just enjoyed being like this once a year so much that we decided fuck it, why bother?”
“I don’t remember you swearing this much at your normal size,” Castiel says.
“Once a year I’m a little emotional,” Dean snaps. “Can you blame me?”
Rating/Warning: PG (Language)
Wordcount: 651
Fandom: SPN
By:
kellifer_ficCategory: Gen
Disclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
Summary: Prompt - Castiel looking after a de-aged Dean
“The thing is,” Sam says, looking more than a little flustered and also glancing back at the motel room like he’s afraid Dean will emerge before he can get out what he needs to say. “There’s this curse.”
Castiel watches Sam patiently, wondering what could be so bad. Neither he nor Dean have shown any signs of being afflicted with anything. “You need my help?” he prompts because Sam had called him and that had never happened before. He knows they’d gotten off to a rocky start and he got the impression that Sam was starting to regret his existence and his role in Dean’s life but he also seemed to be tentatively accepting that Castiel was one of the few beings genuinely on their side.
“Yes but-” Sam now looks pained. “I don’t want it to be a thing.”
“I am thing-less,” Castiel offers and doesn’t understand really what he’s said when Sam’s mouth twitches. He’s forever amusing both brothers and they rarely, if ever, explain exactly why.
“I need you to...” Sam casts about for a second like he’s searching for the best way to phrase his request. “Babysit,” he finally settles on.
“Babysit?” Castiel asks. He understands the concept, has read some junior fiction related to the matter about a particular club that dealt with that very thing but he doesn’t understand how it can possibly be something Sam needs.
“I need to leave tonight if I’m going to reach Bobby in time to help with that sprite infestation in Robe and Dean has to stay here.”
“I’m not quite sure I understand what you’re asking for,” Castiel says and Sam sighs.
“You will in the morning,” Sam says, moving towards the Impala, hitching his duffel over his shoulder. “Dean will be pissed but I’ll explain it all when I get back,” Sam says and then turns just before he slides into the driver’s side of the car. “Just.. don’t give him any sugar.”
Castiel’s never been particularly homicidal but he can now understand the urge as he watches the tiny tornado that Dean has become rage around the motel room the next morning.
Dean is... little. Castiel can’t guess at an age because all small humans look generically the same to him but if he had to hazard a guess he would say between four and six.
What’s most unsettling is that mentally Dean is still Dean, swearing and all.
“I can’t believe he would do this, the absolute jackass,” Dean snarls in a high, sweet voice. “That goddamn motherfucking-”
“Dean,” Castiel says and then fights the urge to step backwards when Dean levels a poisonous glare in his direction. “Sam only has your well being in his thoughts.”
“He’s going to have his ass in his thoughts when I stuff his head up it,” Dean spits, tossing clothes around. He’s all fury but Castiel finds himself charmed by the picture Dean creates in an adult-sized shirt that reaches his shins, having had to abandon the boxer shorts he went to sleep in when they puddled around his ankles when he slid out of bed. Dean practically disappears inside his duffel when he finds it and comes out with a small backpack that Castiel’s never seen before.
“Have you never been able to find a way to break this curse?” Castiel asks.
“Sure, years ago,” Dean says, rolling his eyes and yanking on a pair of small jeans that come out of the backpack. Castiel can see a small green t-shirt and a black overshirt on the floor where Dean dumped them. “I just enjoyed being like this once a year so much that we decided fuck it, why bother?”
“I don’t remember you swearing this much at your normal size,” Castiel says.
“Once a year I’m a little emotional,” Dean snaps. “Can you blame me?”
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Oh, man. Castiel as *babysitter* to wee!Dean. Too, too perfect.
*twirls you*
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