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Title: Velcro Monkey
By: kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: G
Category: Sam, Dean, John (preseries)
Words: 1,170
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None - preseries
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Summary: Snatches of a life.
“For chrissakes… would you just… Daaaaad!”
Dean’s plaintive cry has the older Winchester turning around and then grinning. Standing behind him is his eldest, struggling and clawing at the smaller boy currently swinging from his side.
“You’re too big!” Dean was protesting as he finally wrenched one arm from around his neck, only to have it replaced by the other. “You’re almost as tall as me, dammit!” Dean finally threw up his hands in defeat and Sammy settled on his back, hands hooked around his neck and legs around his waist. Something mischievous crossed Dean’s eyes and he toppled backwards. There was a muffled squeak and then a wail.
“I said you were too heavy,” Dean sighed as he pushed himself up and off, making sure to accidentally elbow Sammy in the solar plexus before he rose, the wail issuing from Sammy getting louder and angrier.
Sam struggled to his feet and launched himself at Dean, knocking the older boy off his feet and both of them tumbling through the dust of the parking lot. John took a moment to watch his boys because although they were pretty much just laying into each other, there was the beginnings of technique there which meant they had been paying attention to the training.
John finally separated them, tossing Dean into the passenger seat and a scowling Sammy in the back and said, “Some day you’ll be glad you have each other.”
“Yeah right,” Sam huffed.
“Booger brain,” Dean snarled under his breath.
000
It was too much to hope that they would always get along, but the feud Dean and Sammy had been waging for three weeks straight had set John’s teeth on edge.
Sam was wearing a too-big baseball cap because of the latest round. Underneath it, he was as bald as an egg and while yes, funny and creative and John still wasn’t sure where Dean had gotten the depilatory cream, he was also now left waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop as Sammy sulked and stewed and plotted.
He was starting a new school without a hair on his head.
000
“Where is it?”
John opened the door of their latest motel to see Sammy desperately tearing through their bags, white faced and furious.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean was smirking, sitting on the one chair in the room with his feet propped up on the bed and a comic book resting on his belly.
Sammy spun when he heard the door go and raced to his father, wrapping arms around his leg and pressing a wet face to his thigh. “Dean stole my monkey,” he hitched out between ragged breaths and John put a hand to his head, smoothing down his hair which was sticking up every which way.
“Dean?” John asked, raising an eyebrow at his older son who scowled.
“I didn’t take it. Sam must have dropped it somewhere.”
“What does it look like?” John asked and Dean rolled his eyes.
“Brown with those Velcro hands and feet so you can wrap it around things. He won it in that state fair in Wyoming, remember?”
“Right,” John sighed, lowering so he was kneeling in front of Sammy. “Where did you last see it?”
“I don’t knooooow…” The fury had dissipated and left behind a sad little boy who threw himself across one of the beds.
Hours later, John opened his eyes in the darkness. He would usually roll over and go back to sleep but something made him check his sons’ bed and finding Sammy alone, John’s heart started to trip-hammer in panic.
He was pulling on his jacket outside in the chill morning air when the Impala’s door squeaked and Dean emerged, feet first out of the backseat and froze, looking guilty. “What are you doing?”
“N-nothing,” Dean swallowed, scuffing his foot and stepped aside with a resigned sigh when John rounded the car and leaned into the backseat, taking note of the little Velcro monkey feet sticking out from between the seat back and seat.
“Did you have it all this time?” John asked, more than a little disappointed but Dean looked so genuinely mortified at the idea that he dismissed the notion.
“No. I just… noticed there was an arcade on the way into town and I thought they might have the same monkey.”
“Dean, that place wouldn’t have been open,” John said, voice stern, watching Dean flush scarlet. “Alright,” he said, scrubbing a hand through Dean’s hair. “Get back into the room and to bed. We’ve got a couple of hours before we have to leave.”
Dean stared up at his Father for a beat, before cracking a grin and pelting towards the room.
000
Take your brother outside as fast as you can
Ten year old Dean had nightmares that he told no one about.
How his Father pressed a warm bundle of Sammy into his arms and by the time he got outside, he was holding nothing but blankets.
000
Sammy got a black eye from a fairly vicious pixie and the next day at school Dean noticed the teachers watching him.
They all had their concerned faces on, the type he saw when he rolled up to school in a shirt with a hole in it or no packed lunch but Dean sensed that this was somehow worse, especially when three teachers got together at lunchtime to watch and frown and whisper before one of them broke off, heading straight for his brother.
Dean abandoned the older kids he’d been hanging out with, strode across the small school yard and socked Sammy in the other eye. He’d never been through anything as difficult as walking away from a startled Sammy, not even crying because he’d been so surprised, hands stuffed in his jeans.
When he got called to the principal’s office and his Father was there, looking stern, Dean simply scowled and shrugged and grumped his way through the interview, saying nothing when they told him he was suspended for the rest of the week.
Outside, his Father had placed a warm hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re a good boy Dean,” he said.
000
“I got him,” Dean protested when John tried to lift Sammy away from him.
“He’s-“
“I got him,” Dean snapped, jostling Sammy in his arms, blood soaking through his t-shirt.
Head wounds mean hospital
It’s a rule, one they never messed with, along with Sammy stays in the car which… hadn’t worked out so well that night. Dean was grimacing with the weight because Sammy might’ve only been ten but he’d shot up over the summer so the two boys were of a height, but he wouldn’t pass his brother over, merely jutting his chin in the direction of the emergency entrance.
John was only able to tear his eyes away from his boys when one of Sammy’s arms came up and curled around Dean’s neck on its own.
By: kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: G
Category: Sam, Dean, John (preseries)
Words: 1,170
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None - preseries
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Summary: Snatches of a life.
“For chrissakes… would you just… Daaaaad!”
Dean’s plaintive cry has the older Winchester turning around and then grinning. Standing behind him is his eldest, struggling and clawing at the smaller boy currently swinging from his side.
“You’re too big!” Dean was protesting as he finally wrenched one arm from around his neck, only to have it replaced by the other. “You’re almost as tall as me, dammit!” Dean finally threw up his hands in defeat and Sammy settled on his back, hands hooked around his neck and legs around his waist. Something mischievous crossed Dean’s eyes and he toppled backwards. There was a muffled squeak and then a wail.
“I said you were too heavy,” Dean sighed as he pushed himself up and off, making sure to accidentally elbow Sammy in the solar plexus before he rose, the wail issuing from Sammy getting louder and angrier.
Sam struggled to his feet and launched himself at Dean, knocking the older boy off his feet and both of them tumbling through the dust of the parking lot. John took a moment to watch his boys because although they were pretty much just laying into each other, there was the beginnings of technique there which meant they had been paying attention to the training.
John finally separated them, tossing Dean into the passenger seat and a scowling Sammy in the back and said, “Some day you’ll be glad you have each other.”
“Yeah right,” Sam huffed.
“Booger brain,” Dean snarled under his breath.
It was too much to hope that they would always get along, but the feud Dean and Sammy had been waging for three weeks straight had set John’s teeth on edge.
Sam was wearing a too-big baseball cap because of the latest round. Underneath it, he was as bald as an egg and while yes, funny and creative and John still wasn’t sure where Dean had gotten the depilatory cream, he was also now left waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop as Sammy sulked and stewed and plotted.
He was starting a new school without a hair on his head.
“Where is it?”
John opened the door of their latest motel to see Sammy desperately tearing through their bags, white faced and furious.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean was smirking, sitting on the one chair in the room with his feet propped up on the bed and a comic book resting on his belly.
Sammy spun when he heard the door go and raced to his father, wrapping arms around his leg and pressing a wet face to his thigh. “Dean stole my monkey,” he hitched out between ragged breaths and John put a hand to his head, smoothing down his hair which was sticking up every which way.
“Dean?” John asked, raising an eyebrow at his older son who scowled.
“I didn’t take it. Sam must have dropped it somewhere.”
“What does it look like?” John asked and Dean rolled his eyes.
“Brown with those Velcro hands and feet so you can wrap it around things. He won it in that state fair in Wyoming, remember?”
“Right,” John sighed, lowering so he was kneeling in front of Sammy. “Where did you last see it?”
“I don’t knooooow…” The fury had dissipated and left behind a sad little boy who threw himself across one of the beds.
Hours later, John opened his eyes in the darkness. He would usually roll over and go back to sleep but something made him check his sons’ bed and finding Sammy alone, John’s heart started to trip-hammer in panic.
He was pulling on his jacket outside in the chill morning air when the Impala’s door squeaked and Dean emerged, feet first out of the backseat and froze, looking guilty. “What are you doing?”
“N-nothing,” Dean swallowed, scuffing his foot and stepped aside with a resigned sigh when John rounded the car and leaned into the backseat, taking note of the little Velcro monkey feet sticking out from between the seat back and seat.
“Did you have it all this time?” John asked, more than a little disappointed but Dean looked so genuinely mortified at the idea that he dismissed the notion.
“No. I just… noticed there was an arcade on the way into town and I thought they might have the same monkey.”
“Dean, that place wouldn’t have been open,” John said, voice stern, watching Dean flush scarlet. “Alright,” he said, scrubbing a hand through Dean’s hair. “Get back into the room and to bed. We’ve got a couple of hours before we have to leave.”
Dean stared up at his Father for a beat, before cracking a grin and pelting towards the room.
Take your brother outside as fast as you can
Ten year old Dean had nightmares that he told no one about.
How his Father pressed a warm bundle of Sammy into his arms and by the time he got outside, he was holding nothing but blankets.
Sammy got a black eye from a fairly vicious pixie and the next day at school Dean noticed the teachers watching him.
They all had their concerned faces on, the type he saw when he rolled up to school in a shirt with a hole in it or no packed lunch but Dean sensed that this was somehow worse, especially when three teachers got together at lunchtime to watch and frown and whisper before one of them broke off, heading straight for his brother.
Dean abandoned the older kids he’d been hanging out with, strode across the small school yard and socked Sammy in the other eye. He’d never been through anything as difficult as walking away from a startled Sammy, not even crying because he’d been so surprised, hands stuffed in his jeans.
When he got called to the principal’s office and his Father was there, looking stern, Dean simply scowled and shrugged and grumped his way through the interview, saying nothing when they told him he was suspended for the rest of the week.
Outside, his Father had placed a warm hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You’re a good boy Dean,” he said.
“I got him,” Dean protested when John tried to lift Sammy away from him.
“He’s-“
“I got him,” Dean snapped, jostling Sammy in his arms, blood soaking through his t-shirt.
Head wounds mean hospital
It’s a rule, one they never messed with, along with Sammy stays in the car which… hadn’t worked out so well that night. Dean was grimacing with the weight because Sammy might’ve only been ten but he’d shot up over the summer so the two boys were of a height, but he wouldn’t pass his brother over, merely jutting his chin in the direction of the emergency entrance.
John was only able to tear his eyes away from his boys when one of Sammy’s arms came up and curled around Dean’s neck on its own.
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