SpN fic: Watching from Shadows; G; pre-series

Mar 28, 2007 23:11

Title: Watching from Shadows
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Character: Sammy, Dean, John
Rating: G
Time frame: pre-series
Pairing: none, gen
Disclaimer: I don't own The Winchesters, or the show Supernatural, or anything to do with it. The only thing I own is this story.
Summary: li’l Dean and Sammy go on a nighttime adventure.



“Saaaa-mmy,” He is awoken by a tickling of his nose which makes him twitch, eyes screwing up involuntarily. “Saaaa-mmy… wakey wakey.” As soon as he’s awake enough to register who it is, he is alert and starts to pull himself upright, but his jerky movement is stopped by a firm arm across his chest: Dean’s hand on the shoulder furthest from him. One finger is raised to his brother’s lips as a mischievous smile curves them. “Quietly now, we don’t want to go waking Dad up.”

He smiles back, a secretive smile, joy at something just shared between the two of them. He nods as Dean, silent as a grave, crosses the room to peek out of the tiny crack between the door and the frame. Their father fell asleep at the table again. He has not made it into bed for at least a week. They are between jobs but unlike his sons, he does not seem willing to enjoy the rest.

Tonight is special. They have been cooped up for a week, coming home from school immediately and only going out for their daily run other than that. Dean is taking him to the playground. He managed to talk him into it. Trying - ever so hard - to be as quiet as Dean, Sammy crosses over to the suitcase. Like Dean, he has stopped unpacking his clothes every time they stop somewhere, no point, his brother says, when you’ll only end up having to pack them up again at super speed.

He giggles slightly, which earns him a glare from his brother. This illicit trip is only happening because of weeks of begging, so he isn’t going to mess it up now. Dean might never take him again.

He pulls on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, his favourite one with the teenage mutant ninja turtles on and goes for his trainers, but he can’t tie his laces in the dark and Dean has to come and do it for him.

He stands up almost before his brother has finished and heads for the door, but he is gently turned around, and his coat is pushed into his hands as Dean gestures to the window.

Sammy’s eyes go round and his grin increases to ear-reaching proportions. He has wanted to climb down the tree outside since they got here. Dean goes first, an expert, his foot only slipping once as he finds purchase on the tree trunk. He reaches for the younger boy with one hand, the other wrapped around the branch.

Sammy reaches out, slowly. It looked so easy when Dean did it, but he had not though about how high up the second storey was.

“I’ll catch you Sammy.” He is promised and he doesn’t think twice, just reaches into space, and before his hands touch anything solid, his feet are leaving the windowsill.

He falls for less than a second before Dean has hold of his arm and is yanking him up beside him. His brother gives barely a grunt of effort, strong enough to hold his brother’s weight easily.

They make their way down the tree quickly, Dean first, Sammy second, slower, feeling his way.

Once down, his brother kneels down in front of him and looks at his hands.

“You’re bleeding,” and Sam can see that he is about to turn around and go back in, to pack in the whole trip.

“I’m fine,” he says in his best gruff Dad tone, and he sees the worry leave his brother’s eyes and amusement replace it. “You promised.” Sighing, Dean nods and takes his hand and they walk in the direction of the park.

Sammy wants to run on ahead, but every time he tries to slip out of Dean’s grasp his attempt is foiled. He begins to sulk, dragging his feet. Dean’s behaving just like Daddy does, and it’s not fair. This was supposed to be fun.

Then they are there and all thoughts of annoyance are gone from the younger sibling’s mind as he sees the playground he has walked past every day for the last two weeks without being able to walk in. Dean, playing the cool older brother, goes to sit down on the bench, like Dad does on the rare occasions he has taken them.

Sam knows the rules, Dean made him promise before they came. He cannot leave Dean’s sight; he cannot leave the park; if he sees anyone he is to stay close to Dean; if anything comes towards him he is to scream and run and Dean will come to him.

But playing on your own is no fun, and Dean isn’t any fun either, sitting on the bench, his hand on the knife that Daddy gave him a few days ago. Even if he is the impossibly old age of 10, Sammy wanted to go to the park with his brother, not on his own. After a few minutes of swinging aimlessly he flies off the swing when it gets really really high, and scrapes his knee, before running over to his brother and dragging him off the bench.

He knows Dean will play with him, because Dean always plays with him. Tonight he wants to play hunters, and it’s no fun without a monster, and Dean is really good at being the monster, and he’s really scary. Please won’t Dean come on the climbing frame with him, and you can’t go on the seesaw on your own.

Dean, as expected, crumbles and soon they are running in and out of metal poles, Dean dodging silver bullets until one well aimed shot hits him and he falls to the floor in a dramatic death: twitching and moaning, gradually fading until he collapses completely, silent and still. He stays there for long seconds.

“Dean?”

No response.

“Dee-ean?”

Still no answer. Sam approaches the monster’s body slowly, looking down with wide eyes. They were only imaginary bullets, they couldn’t have hurt him really… could they?

He gets closer and reaches out a foot to prod him. But his prey turns on him, grabbing his foot and pulling him to the floor, rolling over to trap him and tickle him. Unable to help himself, he explodes with laughter, squirming and wriggling to avoid his brother’s fingers as they unerringly find all his ticklish spots.

In a corner of the park, under a tree, a shadowy figure watches them wistfully.

Then it is over, and Dean is pulling Sammy to his feet and telling him that they have to go, because Sammy needs to get some sleep. But Sam doesn’t want to go, and he stamps his feet, but Dean says that if he goes back now he can have the lucky charms tomorrow morning, even though it’s Dean’s turn. He submits, although he’s not sure that lucky charms tomorrow morning will be as good as another ten minutes in the park right now; but Dean is looking at him with that look he gets when Daddy yells, and he knows that there is no other choice, so he nods and yawns and lets Dean lead him by the hand back to their motel room.

Half way back, his eyelids are drooping and Dean lifts him up and carries him. He doesn’t remember his brother carrying him up the tree, or his father coming to the window to lift him back in.

In the morning he has lucky charms, and Daddy hands them to him, although Daddy can’t know he swapped with Dean. His brother does ten extra push ups, but Sam doesn’t question it because Dean likes training, and after school Daddy looks at him sadly before walking them to the park. But it isn’t as fun, because Daddy says Dean has work to do back at the motel, and none of the other children knows about hunters. So he is left on the swing, going backward and forward and backward and forward until he thinks that maybe he could fly like superman.

He wonders whether Dean has ever thought that, and if Superman could ever soar high enough to go and see his Mummy. Because Dean says she’s an angel and lives in heaven which is up really really high. But he wouldn’t be able to find her, even if he could, because he can’t remember her. So he stops swinging and just sits there, swaying slightly.

Daddy said they could stay until the big hand reached the six, but it has barely touched the four when Sammy walks over and asks if they can go back and see Dean now. Daddy looks down at him and asks if he is sure, he still has ten minutes left. But he shrugs and says it’s not that great, and his Daddy stops smiling and gently takes his hand and walks him back.

baby!winchesters, supernatural, fic, pre-series

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