Supernatural fic: The Calm... (Who me, a fandom addict - no way)
Title: The Calm...
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Character: John, Dean, Mary
Rating: PG for slight suggestiveness
Spoilers: None, but helps if you've watched the pilot and Salvation
Pairing: John/Mary
Disclaimer: All ownership rights to the Winchester family, alas, do not belong to me, or, in fact, have anything whatsoever to so with me. This is purely for my voyeuristic pleasure.
Summary: Wee!Dean is afraid of the thunder and his dad helps him weather a storm.
The storm had been brewing all day: heavy grey clouds hanging over the town and waiting for their cue to open. That cue when it came was sudden, and as the thunder growled through the night a little boy sat up in bed, eyes wide. Lightning flashed and the room was flooded with red light through the curtains.
Teeth, gritted together, stopped the sudden gasps of fear. Small hands clenched tighter and pulled bed covers up more firmly around his chin so it looked as though he were just a disembodied head.
Seconds later a long roll of thunder came and the boy’s head disappeared under the covers as another popped around the door to his room.
“Hey Deano, you okay in here?” John asked the lump beneath the material, his voice slightly amused. There was movement underneath but he was unable to tell if his elder son was nodding or shaking his head. “Mind if I come in?” Again that incomprehensible movement, this time he took it to be a yes. “Thanks buddy.”
He walked carefully into the room, avoiding the toy truck left in the centre of the floor, and sat down on the end of Dean’s bed. Feeling the extra weight, the lump wriggled.
“So, what happened here then?” He asked, keeping his voice deliberately light. “Did the duvet monster eat you?” A solemn rustle of sheets answered his enquiry. “Oh no!” He smiled as he pretended outrage. “The duvet monster’s got Dean! What am I going to do?” There was a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle and John raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to do something about that. Can’t have duvet monsters going around eating people, can we?” There was a wriggle that could have been a shake of the head. “I guess asking nicely won’t do any good, hey?” Another shake. “Oh well, it’s got to be it - the only way to get rid of a duvet monster… You know what that is Deano?” There was a cautious shake accompanied by a giggle.
In one quick movement he wrapped the duvet tighter around Dean and hefted him, and the blanket, up, holding on carefully as he shook the armful from side to side, making noises that were an approximation to a fight with a duvet monster.
Inside the material, his son was giggling his head off, until, that was, the thunder came again. There was a muffled yelp and John, hearing it, gently set his bundle down and unwound the duvet from Dean.
“Huh, look at that - I guess the thunder scared off that big old duvet monster…” Dean’s eyes grew wide.
“It did?” he asked, awestruck.
“Sure did, buddy… All monsters are scared of thunder, didn’t you ever know that?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Well they are, all of ‘em, even really scary ones. That’s why storms aren’t scary for you and me - because that’s when all the monsters run away.” Dean nodded solemnly. “Now, let’s get you back in bed. The four year old twisted around until he was the right way round and then John tucked him in, before standing up.
“G’night Deano.” He whispered, kissing his son on the forehead before quietly departing, clicking the door shut behind him. Once out in the hall he turned to see his wife coming out of the far room.
“How’s Sammy?” he asked.
“Just fine, sleeping right through.” She smiled. “Dean?”
“Hiding under the blankets, but he’s okay now.” She turned to the door he had just come through.
“Should I check on him?” She asked, worried, but John shook his head and took hold of her arm gently.
“He’s fine Mary. You were up all night yesterday - get some sleep, it’s only a storm.”
“It doesn’t feel like ‘only a storm’,” she said as the house resounded with another clap of thunder. “We haven’t had one this strong in years.” He laughed quietly.
“Want to go hide under the bedclothes?” he teased, smiling. “I’ll hide with you.”
“I’m not sure I should let you.” Her eyes glimmered with mischief and he hugged her.
“Please?” John gave his usual pleading look, before grinning, flashing his dimples. “I’ll protect you from the big bad storm.”
“And who’ll protect me from big bad you?” she asked.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be safe.”
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Character: John, Dean, Mary
Rating: PG for slight suggestiveness
Spoilers: None, but helps if you've watched the pilot and Salvation
Pairing: John/Mary
Disclaimer: All ownership rights to the Winchester family, alas, do not belong to me, or, in fact, have anything whatsoever to so with me. This is purely for my voyeuristic pleasure.
Summary: Wee!Dean is afraid of the thunder and his dad helps him weather a storm.
The storm had been brewing all day: heavy grey clouds hanging over the town and waiting for their cue to open. That cue when it came was sudden, and as the thunder growled through the night a little boy sat up in bed, eyes wide. Lightning flashed and the room was flooded with red light through the curtains.
Teeth, gritted together, stopped the sudden gasps of fear. Small hands clenched tighter and pulled bed covers up more firmly around his chin so it looked as though he were just a disembodied head.
Seconds later a long roll of thunder came and the boy’s head disappeared under the covers as another popped around the door to his room.
“Hey Deano, you okay in here?” John asked the lump beneath the material, his voice slightly amused. There was movement underneath but he was unable to tell if his elder son was nodding or shaking his head. “Mind if I come in?” Again that incomprehensible movement, this time he took it to be a yes. “Thanks buddy.”
He walked carefully into the room, avoiding the toy truck left in the centre of the floor, and sat down on the end of Dean’s bed. Feeling the extra weight, the lump wriggled.
“So, what happened here then?” He asked, keeping his voice deliberately light. “Did the duvet monster eat you?” A solemn rustle of sheets answered his enquiry. “Oh no!” He smiled as he pretended outrage. “The duvet monster’s got Dean! What am I going to do?” There was a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle and John raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to do something about that. Can’t have duvet monsters going around eating people, can we?” There was a wriggle that could have been a shake of the head. “I guess asking nicely won’t do any good, hey?” Another shake. “Oh well, it’s got to be it - the only way to get rid of a duvet monster… You know what that is Deano?” There was a cautious shake accompanied by a giggle.
In one quick movement he wrapped the duvet tighter around Dean and hefted him, and the blanket, up, holding on carefully as he shook the armful from side to side, making noises that were an approximation to a fight with a duvet monster.
Inside the material, his son was giggling his head off, until, that was, the thunder came again. There was a muffled yelp and John, hearing it, gently set his bundle down and unwound the duvet from Dean.
“Huh, look at that - I guess the thunder scared off that big old duvet monster…” Dean’s eyes grew wide.
“It did?” he asked, awestruck.
“Sure did, buddy… All monsters are scared of thunder, didn’t you ever know that?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Well they are, all of ‘em, even really scary ones. That’s why storms aren’t scary for you and me - because that’s when all the monsters run away.” Dean nodded solemnly. “Now, let’s get you back in bed. The four year old twisted around until he was the right way round and then John tucked him in, before standing up.
“G’night Deano.” He whispered, kissing his son on the forehead before quietly departing, clicking the door shut behind him. Once out in the hall he turned to see his wife coming out of the far room.
“How’s Sammy?” he asked.
“Just fine, sleeping right through.” She smiled. “Dean?”
“Hiding under the blankets, but he’s okay now.” She turned to the door he had just come through.
“Should I check on him?” She asked, worried, but John shook his head and took hold of her arm gently.
“He’s fine Mary. You were up all night yesterday - get some sleep, it’s only a storm.”
“It doesn’t feel like ‘only a storm’,” she said as the house resounded with another clap of thunder. “We haven’t had one this strong in years.” He laughed quietly.
“Want to go hide under the bedclothes?” he teased, smiling. “I’ll hide with you.”
“I’m not sure I should let you.” Her eyes glimmered with mischief and he hugged her.
“Please?” John gave his usual pleading look, before grinning, flashing his dimples. “I’ll protect you from the big bad storm.”
“And who’ll protect me from big bad you?” she asked.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be safe.”