FIC: Of Terminators and Training Wheels- Chapter 19
(Here be Chapter One if you missed the beginning)
DISCLAIMER- I don't own these characters except for Topher and Tiffany. And after this chapter I wish to officially disown them...
TODAY'S SPECIAL: Super Sized Sammy Peril with a side order of Hurt!TiedUp!Dean and an extra large cup of Very!Very!Mean!Gordon.
TUESDAY: Pig in a Poke.
CHAPTER 19-
The air was beginning to cool slightly as the hot July afternoon reluctantly took its leave and it was evening's turn to preside over the spectacle of human contention. Butterflies and bumble bees flitted about in a frenzy of fascination and several curious fire flies ventured out early into the sunlight, drawn by the sheer volume of excitement in the atmosphere. Cicadas screamed in a high pitched cacophony, wildly cheering on the tireless fighters as the battle for dominance entered its 100th round...
At least it could have been the 100th round. Sam had long since lost count. His brother and his enemy had been rockin' and sockin' those damn robots for hours upon hours while he kept an anxious vigil in an uncomfortable diaper that was becoming increasingly heavy with sand.
If nothing else, the competition had served to keep Gordon distracted from his Sam-Killing mission. The crazed hunter was so engrossed in maneuvering his blue plastic boxer to beat its fists against Dean's red robot that he seemed to have forgotten altogether that Sam even existed. The only problem was Dean seemed to have forgotten that as well.
"YES!" the older Winchester shouted raising his arms as Gordon's blue robot yet again had its block knocked off, "I am the greatest! I am a bad man! And I'm pretty!"
"Let's make it 2 out of 3!" Gordon grumbled, slapping his robot's head back into place.
"We passed that possibility 50 times over, pal," Dean snorted, "But no matter. Since you obliviously love having your ass handed over to you so much, I'm more than happy to oblige. Believe me, I'm just as fond of kicking your ass!"
He set back into position and soon the boys were furiously pounding their thumbs against the controls again.
Sam rolled his eyes at the pair and then glanced skyward. He could tell by the position of the sun that it was close to 6pm. The neighborhood was once more becoming alive as numerous cars returned their owners home from work or after school activities. The toddler had been doing his best to catch the attention of these commuters. Using the tiny plastic shovel Topher had given him he had scrawled "HELP!" in giant letters in the sandbox. He had also gathered enough wooden alphabet blocks to spell out "S-O-S" which he held up over his head whenever a car would pass by, thrusting out his lower lip and flashing the puppy eyes all the while. But so far no one had paid any attention to the adorable little fellow or his desperate situation.
"Freakin' yuppies!" Sam groused as yet another Don Johnson wanna-be sped past him in a Ferrari.
Hoping against hope, he kept a look out for Missouri. He didn't know which house was hers or even if she was scheduled to return anytime soon. But if she did, surely she would want to check in on the Winchester boys knowing that their father was off hunting werewolves all night. Surely her psychic senses would zero in on the dangerous presence of a killer Cub Scout in the yard... if only she were back in town.
Meanwhile, Tiffany had drained the last of her beer and tossed the empty bottle into the yard in a huff.
"This is like the lamest day ever!" she whined, "We like have this perfectly tubular set up, fer shurr! No grown-ups to hassle us. Free beer an' free cable. The most awesome opportunity to totally make out an' stuff... and all you wanna do is watch these lame little Rug Rats play with some bogus robots? As if! Not even Boy George could say "no" to this bitchin' bod of mine! I mean, fer reals, Topher! Is there something yer not telling me? Did I like grab for a box of Wheaties and totally get Fruit Loops instead?"
"Oh... n...no, Butter Cakes!" Topher insisted, "It's just... well... you know... bad things always happen to horny teenagers..."
"UHH! Says who?" Tiffany scoffed, "Captain Kindergarten over there? Oh Puh-Leaze! Brat Boy Winchester's been totally lying his little Garanimal pants off since I set foot in the door, fer reals! Now come on! Let's go play like we're Luke and Laura and the living room's totally General Hospital! I'll even let you like listen to yer grody Heavy Metal, fer shurr!"
"Ok, Sugar Muffin!" Topher hopped up happily.
He searched through his pockets but came up empty handed.
"Hey! Where's my Metallica?" he wondered.
"Oh, who cares?" Tiffany said dragging him into the house, "Just like play your Twisted Sister an' stuff. They're slightly more tolerable anyways, I'm shurr!"
"No wait... Come back!" Sam gasped out seeing the teens abandon their post.
His eyes darted nervously over to Gordon. So far the older boy hadn't noticed they were no longer being watched, but Sam began to scan the yard for potential weapons all the same. His trusty hammer lay all the way on the other side of the yard. If only Dean could keep their nemesis occupied, Sam might just be able to broach the distance and reach it. Stepping carefully out of the sandbox he began to toddle his way across the lawn. Five steps was about all his little legs could handle before the thick grass tripped him up, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Damn it!" he hissed, then looked up to spy the baby walker laying discarded and forgotten by a tree. Stealing another quick glance back at the other boys he began to crawl slowly towards his own personal transportation.
"Oh ho ho, YES!" Dean crowed as the blue robot's head went spinning upwards once again, "Tell me, Gordon. Is being this much of a loser something you've worked at? Or does it just come naturally to you?"
"You're cheating!" Gordon announced suddenly leaping to his feet and kicking the picnic bench away.
"How exactly, does one cheat at Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots?" Dean asked with sincere puzzlement.
"This blue guy's head must be looser!" Gordon insisted, "Or else you've glued the red guy's head on so it won't pop up!"
The Cub Scout grabbed at the red robot's head pulling it up with such force that it snapped off all together. Dean's eyes instantly filled with tears upon witnessing the destruction of such an awesome toy.
"I'M TELLING!" he wailed.
He looked over towards the teenagers... who were no longer there! Twisted Sister's We're Not Gonna Take It began blasting from the house letting Dean know that his caretakers no longer cared and he was in fact on his own.
The revelation dawned on Gordon in the same instant, but before the Cub Scout could act on this new development Dean punched him dead in the face. The older boy reeled back, blood spilling impressively from his lip, and yet somehow not as satisfying as it would have been if his head had popped straight off his shoulders like that blue robot's had so many times before. Gordon recovered much too quickly and leapt up on the picnic table to kick Dean across the jaw.
"Dean!" Sam cried out seeing his brother stagger backwards from the blow.
The youngest boy had only just managed to set the baby walker back on its wheels and was leaning against it for support when the melee broke out. Realizing the hammer was too far out of reach, he seized up the wooden blocks and hurled them in Gordon's direction. One block caught the Cub Scout right above the eye, knocking off his cap and leaving the imprint of an "S" on his forehead. Sam wondered briefly if he could get in enough hits to spell out his name but before he managed to get his little hands on an "A" block, Gordon was charging forward like an enraged bull towards a disarmed matador.
Dean rushed up from behind slamming an entire Monopoly set over Gordon's head. The box broke open at once spilling its contents down upon the furious hunter who quickly shook off the piles of Play Money and brushed Park Place and Boardwalk off his shoulders before bending down to grab up a board game of his own. Poor Dean caught Operation right smack in the face and wondered briefly if his own nose would glow red from the assault. Shaking off the hit, he dodged a second blow reaching down to snatch up the spinner from his game of Twister and hurling it like a discus across Gordon's chin.
"Right foot Red, Bitch!" Dean quipped as the bigger boy collapsed to his knees in pain.
He marched triumphantly towards his enemy ready to beat the living snot out of him. But before could take the first swing he inadvertently stepped in the middle of the spilled Hungry Hungry Hippos game. As the marbles slipped out from under his foot he fell forward straight into Gordon's clutches.
"OOF!" he cried out, "Friggin' Hippos!"
Gordon wasted no time in slamming Dean face down in the grass and pinning him there with a knee to the younger boy's back as he reached for a nearby jump rope.
Sam growled out in a fury, launching his little body towards Gordon with the sand shovel clutched in his tiny fist. The shovel didn't pack the same punch as the hammer unfortunately and the older boy merely knocked the flimsy weapon from his grasp before roughly shoving the toddler off his feet.
"Sammy!" Dean struggled beneath Gordon's weight, watching as his little brother's limbs flailed helplessly in the air like a turtle on its back.
By the time Sam managed to right himself, Gordon had effectively hog tied Dean with the jump rope and now stepped forward to snatch the defenseless 14-month-old up off the ground.
"AHH! NO! HELP!" Sam yelped as Gordon tossed him onto his shoulder.
"Let him go you Son of a Bitch!" Dean roared, straining against the rope.
"That's my mother you're talking about!" Gordon kicked Dean in the ribs.
"Stop it!" Sam screamed doing his best to kick back at Gordon, "Don't you hurt him, Gordon! Don't you dare!"
Gordon ignored him, idly drumming his fingers against the squirming child's back as he contemplated his next move. As the Winchesters continued struggling in vain to free themselves a sleek black Firebird Trans Am came speeding down the street.
"Help us, Knight Rider!" Sam called out in sheer desperation.
"Heh heh, Knight Rider," Gordon chuckled watching the car zoom past the yard without slowing down for an instant, "That's cute... And it gives me an idea..."
He carried Sam over to the baby walker and plopped him down inside quickly strapping the harness over the little boy and securing him tight.
"How about we go play in traffic?" he sneered grinning into Sam's terrified face.
"No! No! I don't like that idea at all!" Sam grunted, desperately trying to dig his little toes into the ground as Gordon began to wheel the baby walker over towards the gate where the busy street lay just beyond, "Stop! Don't do this! Help! HELP! DEAN!"
"SAMMY! Damn it all to Hell!" Dean cursed, writhing in his bonds, "Topher! TOPHER! For God's sake, man! Get your pimpled ass back out here now!"
The screams and protests of the Winchesters went unheard as Twister Sister continued to blare out from the stereo. Knowing there was no one to stop him, Gordon calmly opened the gate and pushed the baby walker out onto the sidewalk.
"Help us, Marty McFly!" Sam screamed out frantically as a DeLorean zipped on past.
"Go on. Keep those crazy dreams alive, Demon Boy," Gordon said mockingly.
A low triumphant chuckle escaped Gordon's throat as he rolled the baby walker back and forth across the smooth cement, eagerly awaiting the next car to come speeding down the road.
"Look both ways before you cross the street, Sammy," he teased, "And who knows? Maybe the next car to come this way'll be the Bat Mobile. Or the General Lee with those Good Ol' Duke Boys coming to your rescue..."
He knelt down beside his helpless victim casually brushing the unruly curls back from the child's forehead as Sam flinched and twisted away from his touch.
"Maybe it'll even be that beat up old Chevy Impala I just know you're praying for right now." Gordon hissed in the boy's ear.
"Daddy..." Sam bit back a sob, refusing to give Gordon the satisfaction of seeing him break down, even as his whole body trembled with abject terror.
The purr of a rapidly approaching motor roared in the distance and both boys looked up to see the vehicle in question racing up the road, tires squealing as it turned onto their street.
"You have got to be freakin' kidding me!" Sam gasped out.
"Oh no!" Gordon cackled, "This is just too poetic! This completely makes up for missing out on Purple Rain!"
The car barreling towards them was in fact… a Little Red Corvette.
Sam knew better than to call out for help from the Purple One himself as His Royal Badness Prince was busy attending the World Premiere of his own movie. The driver of this car was just some random douche bag who didn't appear to be slowing down for or even noticing the two small children playing just on the side of the street.
"This is it, Demon!" Gordon cheered, "Say 'Goodbye', Sammy!"
Sam didn't bother saying goodbye as Gordon prepared to shove the baby walker directly in the path of the speeding car. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and channeled a simple message to the douche bag behind the wheel:
"Baby, you're much too fast!"
Next Chapter
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello. My name is Girly Ghoul. I'm addicted to leaving cliff hangers involving Sammy Peril at the end of my chapters... eeeeeek...
The lyrics Sam sort of spoke were of course by His Royal Badness Prince.