Fic: Paper Snow
Title: Paper Snow
Rating: G
Prompt: Dungeons
Summary: Double Prompt Fill from hoodie_time. Dean's stuck in bed with a broken leg - in an effort to cheer him up, John orders his son to make paper snowflakes and a popcorn garland for Christmas.
Dean was glad Sammy finally went down for a nap. Sure, most seven year olds didn't nap, but his little brother was heading for another growth spurt, according to Dad and so he started taking naps when he could. Dean was just glad because his brother had been turning the cast on his leg into a work of art. He had wanted to tell Sammy he needed to make the damn markers last and not to waste them - but no, and now the cast that went from his knee to his foot had nine - he counted 'em off for his brother - stick figure reindeer, including Rudolph.
“Guess it's good that school's out.” He folded his arms and glared at the cast. He couldn't even manage to break his leg in a cool way, like saving someone's life. He'd fallen on a patch of ice and slid into a brick wall.
“It's not that bad.” John said, looking up from his journal. “It's miserable out there anyway.”
Dean glanced out the window, where huge, fat flakes of snow were falling - perfect snowball snow. “I guess.” He wiggled his toes a little, frowning. “I didn't ruin Christmas, did I?”
John set his pen down, knowing what his son meant. He had actually been terrified when Dean had fallen. Injuries from hunting he expected. The random, normal, could-happen-to-anyone injuries? Those scared him more than anything. “No, Dean, you didn't.” He stood up and came over to the bed. “Though I might make you start sharing that bed with Sammy - you forgot to warn me he kicked.”
“I thought you knew, Dad.” Dean blinked in surprise.
“Well, it's been a while.” He ruffled his son's hair, smiling at the face he made. “It's not so bad.”
“You depend on me to take care of Sammy. I can't even keep up with him with that thing on my leg.”
“I'll just have to keep the two of you inside for a while, that's all.” John frowned for a moment, looking out at the snow. “We should have a tree.”
“A tree?” Dean said, incredulously. “A Christmas Tree?”
“Sure.” He got up from the bed and went over to the table and came back with some paper and a pair of scissors. “You make some snowflakes for ornaments. I'm going to pop some popcorn for a garland - that you're going to make. Sam should be asleep for a few hours, so while you're doing that, I'm going to get a tree and when he wakes up, we can surprise him. How'd that be?”
“You're serious?” He looked at the scrap pieces of paper to his dad.
“Very. Snowflakes, Dean. That's an order.” John smiled and walked over to the kitchenette. “This popcorn we've got doesn't taste very good anyway.”
“I think it's some kind you're suppose to turn into popcorn balls, dad.” Dean carefully folded the largest piece of paper.
“Those are terrible for your teeth.” He replied as he got out a pot and some cooking oil. “If there's one thing I can say about you boys - it's that you've got great teeth and take good care of them.”
“We try.” Dean said, picking up the scissors and starting to cut away at the paper. He gave a very slight smile. “Speaking of - maybe Santa will bring Sammy his two front teeth.”
John repressed a guffaw as he poured the popcorn kernels into the pot. Yeah, Dean was going to be just fine. He might be stuck in bed for a few more days - but they could stay in the motel for a little while. When he got the tree, he'd find a few things for his boys. After all, it was Christmas and they'd been good. Better than good. That warranted at least one non-practical gift each - crayons and a coloring book for Sammy - and for Dean? That was obvious.
Dean was getting a baseball - and maybe he'd have the good fortune to find a glove at the Goodwill.
Rating: G
Prompt: Dungeons
Summary: Double Prompt Fill from hoodie_time. Dean's stuck in bed with a broken leg - in an effort to cheer him up, John orders his son to make paper snowflakes and a popcorn garland for Christmas.
Dean was glad Sammy finally went down for a nap. Sure, most seven year olds didn't nap, but his little brother was heading for another growth spurt, according to Dad and so he started taking naps when he could. Dean was just glad because his brother had been turning the cast on his leg into a work of art. He had wanted to tell Sammy he needed to make the damn markers last and not to waste them - but no, and now the cast that went from his knee to his foot had nine - he counted 'em off for his brother - stick figure reindeer, including Rudolph.
“Guess it's good that school's out.” He folded his arms and glared at the cast. He couldn't even manage to break his leg in a cool way, like saving someone's life. He'd fallen on a patch of ice and slid into a brick wall.
“It's not that bad.” John said, looking up from his journal. “It's miserable out there anyway.”
Dean glanced out the window, where huge, fat flakes of snow were falling - perfect snowball snow. “I guess.” He wiggled his toes a little, frowning. “I didn't ruin Christmas, did I?”
John set his pen down, knowing what his son meant. He had actually been terrified when Dean had fallen. Injuries from hunting he expected. The random, normal, could-happen-to-anyone injuries? Those scared him more than anything. “No, Dean, you didn't.” He stood up and came over to the bed. “Though I might make you start sharing that bed with Sammy - you forgot to warn me he kicked.”
“I thought you knew, Dad.” Dean blinked in surprise.
“Well, it's been a while.” He ruffled his son's hair, smiling at the face he made. “It's not so bad.”
“You depend on me to take care of Sammy. I can't even keep up with him with that thing on my leg.”
“I'll just have to keep the two of you inside for a while, that's all.” John frowned for a moment, looking out at the snow. “We should have a tree.”
“A tree?” Dean said, incredulously. “A Christmas Tree?”
“Sure.” He got up from the bed and went over to the table and came back with some paper and a pair of scissors. “You make some snowflakes for ornaments. I'm going to pop some popcorn for a garland - that you're going to make. Sam should be asleep for a few hours, so while you're doing that, I'm going to get a tree and when he wakes up, we can surprise him. How'd that be?”
“You're serious?” He looked at the scrap pieces of paper to his dad.
“Very. Snowflakes, Dean. That's an order.” John smiled and walked over to the kitchenette. “This popcorn we've got doesn't taste very good anyway.”
“I think it's some kind you're suppose to turn into popcorn balls, dad.” Dean carefully folded the largest piece of paper.
“Those are terrible for your teeth.” He replied as he got out a pot and some cooking oil. “If there's one thing I can say about you boys - it's that you've got great teeth and take good care of them.”
“We try.” Dean said, picking up the scissors and starting to cut away at the paper. He gave a very slight smile. “Speaking of - maybe Santa will bring Sammy his two front teeth.”
John repressed a guffaw as he poured the popcorn kernels into the pot. Yeah, Dean was going to be just fine. He might be stuck in bed for a few more days - but they could stay in the motel for a little while. When he got the tree, he'd find a few things for his boys. After all, it was Christmas and they'd been good. Better than good. That warranted at least one non-practical gift each - crayons and a coloring book for Sammy - and for Dean? That was obvious.
Dean was getting a baseball - and maybe he'd have the good fortune to find a glove at the Goodwill.