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Title: Squabbling Dogs
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Rating: PG
Category: SPN, Gen (Wee!chesters, Dean 17, Sam 13).
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 845
Summary: Sam didn't always know when Dean was watching out for him.
“What about him?”
Dean hadn’t really been paying attention to the gathered guys around him. He had slotted into their group easily, finding similar youths marked as hooligans by the local blue-hairs in every town he’d ever been in. They were good enough to wile away the hours with when his Dad had taken off on a solo hunt and Sam was in school. He picked them up at the local 7-11, accepted because he had the right kind of slouch to his walk.
They’d been driving, all piled into the leader’s car, a boy named Darren who was known as Snow. Dean didn’t ask. He saw out the window that they’d pulled alongside the local high school. Snow’s arm was out the window and Dean thought, of course. Snow had unerringly pointed out Sammy amongst the throng of milling students.
The other boys in the car were nodding and belatedly Dean realized just what was on the cards. “No,” he snapped.
Snow turned around in his seat, arm that had been out the window pulled back in to stab in Dean’s direction instead. “What do you mean no?”
“That’s my little brother,” Dean said, eyes darting back out to collect Sammy, ambling along without an apparent care in the world.
“So?”
“So, no one’s touching him,” Dean clarified with a growl now to his voice. He was realizing that he’d misjudged this group. They had seemed harmless enough but it now appeared they were interested in cruising for kids to beat up. All he wanted was guys his own age to hang out with, maybe sneak some illegal beer and into the local triple X cinema. It was now apparent that he’d fallen in with boys who were stupid mean.
“Maybe I don’t care,” Snow said, eyes narrowing. The other four boys were looking from Snow to Dean with interest, eyes gleaming. They were scenting blood in the air, willing to turn on one of their own to relieve the boredom as quickly as a stranger.
Dean had misjudged badly, a mistake he wouldn’t repeat any time soon.
“Maybe I don’t like snot-nosed little bookworms,” Snow added, looking back out the driver’s side window. Sammy was indeed walking with a book covering most of his face. Dean knew he wouldn’t be as oblivious as these kids believed though, proven as Sammy easily side-stepped a couple of younger girls who were running along with their heads together and hands linked. Dean felt a tiny flicker of pride.
“Not gonna happen,” Dean said. He had fortuitously managed to get one of the side seats, not wedged into the car like the two boys in the middle and he put a hand on the door handle, wanting to put these guys behind him, maybe catch up to Sammy and treat them both to burgers and a movie on the way home.
Snow shrugged and Dean thought he was going to let it go but Dean watched him shoulder open his own door with consternation and turn in the direction Sammy was heading. Dean pushed his way out of the car and ran around, putting himself between his little brother and the thug intent on making sport of him.
“What’s your problem?” Dean demanded as Snow put his head down, eyes going flinty and lip curling back.
Dean knew what he’d done though when he looked back at the car and saw their other companions were still watching with interest. Dean had thrown down a gauntlet, challenged Snow on his own turf.
Dean cracked his knuckles and hoped the other guys would merely be content with watching.
000
“Where were you?” Sammy asked as Dean came through the motel door. His younger brother was hanging off the end of the double bed, watching the television upside down and dropping store bought popcorn into his mouth with a fist. The same book he’d been reading while he’d been walking lay open on his chest.
“Had stuff to do,” Dean said, rolling his sleeves down over his hands.
“I made spaghetti,” Sammy said, waving a hand in the direction of the tiny kitchenette that was a rare luxury. “We also made brownies in Home Ec. I brought some home.”
“Cool,” Dean grinned, flicking Sammy in the forehead on his way past with a finger and thumb so Sam’s squawk of protest followed him into the bathroom. Dean dragged his shirt off carefully when he closed the door, touching the tender places over his ribs and hoping it was only bruising and he hadn’t broken one. He ran his bloodied fists under the tap for a few moments, wincing at the dull throb.
He leaned forward. The knock to the temple he’d received was only showing as a dull yellowish mark, maybe wouldn’t even bruise up properly and he was grateful for small mercies. Dean figured he could hide the evidence of his tussle from Sammy and, more importantly, his dad.
“Quit jerking off in there and come eat!” Sammy called from the other room and Dean couldn’t help but grin.
Author:
kellifer_ficRating: PG
Category: SPN, Gen (Wee!chesters, Dean 17, Sam 13).
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 845
Summary: Sam didn't always know when Dean was watching out for him.
“What about him?”
Dean hadn’t really been paying attention to the gathered guys around him. He had slotted into their group easily, finding similar youths marked as hooligans by the local blue-hairs in every town he’d ever been in. They were good enough to wile away the hours with when his Dad had taken off on a solo hunt and Sam was in school. He picked them up at the local 7-11, accepted because he had the right kind of slouch to his walk.
They’d been driving, all piled into the leader’s car, a boy named Darren who was known as Snow. Dean didn’t ask. He saw out the window that they’d pulled alongside the local high school. Snow’s arm was out the window and Dean thought, of course. Snow had unerringly pointed out Sammy amongst the throng of milling students.
The other boys in the car were nodding and belatedly Dean realized just what was on the cards. “No,” he snapped.
Snow turned around in his seat, arm that had been out the window pulled back in to stab in Dean’s direction instead. “What do you mean no?”
“That’s my little brother,” Dean said, eyes darting back out to collect Sammy, ambling along without an apparent care in the world.
“So?”
“So, no one’s touching him,” Dean clarified with a growl now to his voice. He was realizing that he’d misjudged this group. They had seemed harmless enough but it now appeared they were interested in cruising for kids to beat up. All he wanted was guys his own age to hang out with, maybe sneak some illegal beer and into the local triple X cinema. It was now apparent that he’d fallen in with boys who were stupid mean.
“Maybe I don’t care,” Snow said, eyes narrowing. The other four boys were looking from Snow to Dean with interest, eyes gleaming. They were scenting blood in the air, willing to turn on one of their own to relieve the boredom as quickly as a stranger.
Dean had misjudged badly, a mistake he wouldn’t repeat any time soon.
“Maybe I don’t like snot-nosed little bookworms,” Snow added, looking back out the driver’s side window. Sammy was indeed walking with a book covering most of his face. Dean knew he wouldn’t be as oblivious as these kids believed though, proven as Sammy easily side-stepped a couple of younger girls who were running along with their heads together and hands linked. Dean felt a tiny flicker of pride.
“Not gonna happen,” Dean said. He had fortuitously managed to get one of the side seats, not wedged into the car like the two boys in the middle and he put a hand on the door handle, wanting to put these guys behind him, maybe catch up to Sammy and treat them both to burgers and a movie on the way home.
Snow shrugged and Dean thought he was going to let it go but Dean watched him shoulder open his own door with consternation and turn in the direction Sammy was heading. Dean pushed his way out of the car and ran around, putting himself between his little brother and the thug intent on making sport of him.
“What’s your problem?” Dean demanded as Snow put his head down, eyes going flinty and lip curling back.
Dean knew what he’d done though when he looked back at the car and saw their other companions were still watching with interest. Dean had thrown down a gauntlet, challenged Snow on his own turf.
Dean cracked his knuckles and hoped the other guys would merely be content with watching.
“Where were you?” Sammy asked as Dean came through the motel door. His younger brother was hanging off the end of the double bed, watching the television upside down and dropping store bought popcorn into his mouth with a fist. The same book he’d been reading while he’d been walking lay open on his chest.
“Had stuff to do,” Dean said, rolling his sleeves down over his hands.
“I made spaghetti,” Sammy said, waving a hand in the direction of the tiny kitchenette that was a rare luxury. “We also made brownies in Home Ec. I brought some home.”
“Cool,” Dean grinned, flicking Sammy in the forehead on his way past with a finger and thumb so Sam’s squawk of protest followed him into the bathroom. Dean dragged his shirt off carefully when he closed the door, touching the tender places over his ribs and hoping it was only bruising and he hadn’t broken one. He ran his bloodied fists under the tap for a few moments, wincing at the dull throb.
He leaned forward. The knock to the temple he’d received was only showing as a dull yellowish mark, maybe wouldn’t even bruise up properly and he was grateful for small mercies. Dean figured he could hide the evidence of his tussle from Sammy and, more importantly, his dad.
“Quit jerking off in there and come eat!” Sammy called from the other room and Dean couldn’t help but grin.