5 Times Dean had the last word, and the one time he didn’t
Title: 5 Times Dean had the last word, and the one time he didn’t - Gen, PG
Pairings: None, Gen
Rating: PG for themes and language
Word Count: 800+
Disclaimer: Totally for fun, no harm, no foul.
The toe of his sneaker connects with the side panel.
It doesn’t leave a mark, and he’s relieved, but not.
“Do that again, Sammy, and I’ll kick your ass.”
-666-
“Meatloaf again? I hate meatloaf,” he whines, stabbing the dull grey square with his fork.
“Just put ketchup on it Sammy,” Dean offers helpfully, passing his baby brother the bottle. “It tastes good that way.”
“It’ll still taste gross,” he pouts.
“Sammy,” John growls, but Dean cuts him off.
“If you don’t eat it, I guess I’ll just have to eat your dessert,” Dean taunts.
“What’s for dessert?” he inquires.
“Pudding,” Dean informs him with a grin. “Chocolate.”
“And you’ll eat mine?”
“Yeah,” Dean shrugs. “Dessert is only for people who eat their meal.”
“But it’s pudding,” he says, eyes wide. “Chocolate. My favourite.”
“That’s what makes it a real shame kiddo,” Dean sighs.
“But if I eat the meatloaf, I can have pudding?”
“Yes,” John says, eyeing Dean with a bemused expression on his face.
“Okay,” he replies, shoving a mouthful of the offending food into his mouth and swallowing quickly.
“Dean,” John whispers to his eldest, as they carry the plates to the sink. “We don’t have any pudding.”
“Guess you’d better go get some then,” Dean grins. “I promised Sammy pudding Dad, and a Winchester never breaks his promises.”
John glares at his son for a moment, then laughs. “Guess I’m going to the store then huh?”
Dean returns to the table and sits next to him while he finishes his unwanted supper.
“Where’d Dad go?” he asks.
“To the store.”
“Why?”
“To get you dessert.”
“How come when I ask for dessert, he never gets it?” he whines.
“Because, you don’t ask properly, squirt.”
“How am I supposed to ask?”
“You’re not. This kind of thing is a job best left to ‘big brother.’”
-666-
He runs, tears streaming down his face, his eyes closed.
He hatesdadhatesdeanhatesmovinghateshunting. He stumbles, tripping over nothing.
Dean grabs him by the neck of his shirt, twisting him around. He resists, shoving blindly as his brother pulls him into a hug. He gasps for air, his chest heaving, his nose running.
“It’s ok Sammy, it’s okay.”
-666-
His lungs feel like they are on fire and he gasps for breath. His wrist is swollen. His body aches, but the thing is dead.
”Way to go kiddo! You got it!”
-666-
“Beat it, Sammy.”
The door bangs shut and he’s alone in the dark hallway. Something bumps against the wall, and he hears laughter. There is the familiar squeaking of springs and muffled moans. He sighs and walks into the living room. He falls asleep on the couch, watching television with the volume too loud. He awakens in the night, the room silent and dark. Dean nudges him gently, pulls him up from the sofa. “C’mon kiddo, let’s get you to bed.”
-666-
“Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Like hell I’m not.”
“Screw you.”
“When Dad’s away, I’m in charge. And I said no.”
“I hate you.”
”Good.”
“You always take his side.”
“No I don’t.”
“You do.”
“No. I really don’t.”
“Dean.”
“Shit Sammy, you think I like being stuck here with you? Dad said no, so you’re not going.”
“Go away.”
”I would love to.”
“Fine, then do it.”
”I can’t.”
“Don’t let me keep you here.”
“You really think I get off on this? You think I’m picking on you? You think I don’t have better things to do Sam?”
“Yeah right.”
“You’re a selfish little fucker, you know that?”
“Whatever.”
“Yeah, while all my friends are camping and whooping it up, I much prefer to be home taking care of my ungrateful little brother.”
Sam scowls.
“You know, we’re moving next week and this was the last chance I was gonna have time to spend with Tracy.”
”Forgive me for not feeling sorry that you’re not getting laid.”
“Jesus Sam, I just wanted one weekend where I could do the things other kids do; one. And you gotta give me fucking grief.”
Sam looked at his brother. This was the first time Dean had ever said anything about missing out on something. Usually he just did whatever their father asked without complaint.
“I’m sor-“
“Forget it.”
“But-“
Dean sighed then muttered, “Grab your stuff.”
“What?”
“Just, grab your shit before I change my mind.”
“Seriously?”
“Sammy…”
They drove together in silence. Sam said nothing for fear that Dean might change his mind.
“Look,” Dean said as Sam climbed out of the car. “Call me in the morning when you need me to pick you up.”
“Okay.”
Dean watched as Sammy practically ran up the path to the door, before calling out, “Hey Sammy.”
“What?”
“Have fun at your little sleepover thing…”
“I will.”
“Try not to wet the bed or cry because you miss me, okay?”
Sam gave his brother the finger, then grinned. “Thanks Dean.”
Dean watched as Sam rush inside the open door to be with his friends. He sighed, turned up the music and drove away.