Five Times Dean Was Flabbergasted
Title: Five Times Dean Winchester Was Flabbergasted
Author: Lunardreamed
Rating: Teen - nothing you wouldn’t see on an episode
Category: Gen
Characters and Pairings: Dean
Spoilers: not really
Series: N/A
Length: 1,167 words
Archive: Please tell me where.
Note: rinkle requested this and I adore her, so she gets what she wants.
Warnings: Flabbergasted sounds like a set up for comedy, but this is Supernatural, where the angst just writes itself.
Disclaimer: I mean no harm and make no money from this. The characters and concepts seen here are not mine.
_____________
Let’s make one thing clear. Dean Winchester does not do flabbergasted. He’s Dean Winchester. Son of John Winchester. Big brother. Monster hunter. First kill at sixteen. He does not get flabbergasted. Got it? Good.
* * *
“Isn’t he beautiful, Dean?”
Mommy’s like pretty things. Like flowers and butterflies and jewelry and pictures in crayon and finger paint. So, Dean figures he’s got a pretty good idea what beautiful is.
This wrinkly, loud, red . . . thing is not.
“This is your baby brother, Dean.”
Dean’s friend Josh is a little brother. His big brother plays football with Dean and Josh. Dean has big plans for his little brother.
What’s he going to do with this?
“His name is Sammy.”
Mommy and Daddy are beaming at the baby and giving Dean looks. Looks that say Dean is supposed to say something. Do something. Dean can’t for the life of him figure out what.
So, he just sort of looks at his "beautiful" baby brother.
* * *
Daddy says Mommy is gone forever. That doesn’t make sense. Who’s going to make Sammy stop crying? He’s real upset. Who’s going to kiss his burns and scrapes? They hurt. Who’s going to get rid of Daddy’s frown lines? Dean’s never seen frown lines so deep. He doesn’t think that he can get rid of them by himself.
Daddy crouches down and pulls Dean between his knees. They are going to have a serious talk. Man to man. Like when Daddy told him he was going to be a big brother. When Daddy told him he had to take of his baby brother always.
“Mom’s gone, Dean. You and I have to take care of Sammy now. We have to take care of each other. Things are going to be a bit different, but you’re a big boy now. You can handle it, okay?”
Dean looks straight into his father’s eyes and nods. He can be a big boy for Daddy and Sammy. Daddy gives him a weird smile, it’s all twitchy and his eyes are all wet, but he pulls Dean into his arms and Dean knows he is safe.
Daddy sets Dean down on the bed next to Sammy and returns to the bag he left on the table. Dean looks down at Sammy who burbles and smacks his hands together. Dean holds up his hands and Sammy grins and smacks them. Dean looks up at Daddy with a smile and feels a surge of fear.
That’s a gun. Daddy is holding a gun. Dean has known four things for sure in his life. Mommy will always be there. Daddy is safety. He has to take care of Sammy. And guns are bad.
When he was just little, he and Josh liked to point their fingers at people and shout “Bang! Bang! You’re dead.” Daddy had been very upset. He set Dean down for a man to man talk and told him how bad guns were. He told Dean that they were not toys and Dean must never ever play games like that, because guns hurt people and hurting people was bad.
But there is his dad, holding a gun, wiping a cloth over it and taking it apart and putting it back together and all Dean can do is watch him and hold Sammy tight.
The man who puts him to bed that night smells wrong. Dean doesn’t like seeing those hands that held a gun touching Sammy. He doesn’t like the look in Dad’s eyes. Dad doesn’t feel safe anymore. Dad feels like danger and fear and pain. Everything is changing and Dean doesn’t know what to do. So, he climbs into Sammy’s crib like he does every night and promises himself that one thing will never change.
* * *
When Dean is fourteen years old, he is the man. Dad leaves him alone to take care of Sammy and has promised him the Impala when he gets his driver’s license. Sammy thinks he is the smartest, bravest, coolest big brother ever. And a bunch of guys and girls think he is the coolest eighth-grader in their school. Not that he cares what a bunch of people too stupid to know what goes bump in the night think of him, but he happens to know that this group thinks he’s cool.
So, he hangs with them and sometimes he walks Tara home. Because it’s on the way and she’s a girl and, maybe, she’s kind of pretty too. Even if she doesn’t look like a Barbie doll, like all the girls on TV do. Who’d want to date a girl that looks like a magazine picture anyway? That’d be boring. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that none of the school’s Barbies will even give him the time of day.
He doesn’t carry her books though. She’s not his girlfriend and he’s not lame, thank you very much. Let no man mistake him for a gentleman.
At the end of her walkway, Tara turns to Dean with a confident, sly smile and says, “Thanks for walking me home, Dean.” And then, she leans forward and brushes her lips across his. It’s nothing like the movies, where kisses are long and loud and messy and people wrap their arms around each other like they think they’re octopuses. It’s quick and soft and she smells like cherry.
And Dean can’t think of anything as he stares after her, walking up to the door and vanishing inside her home.
* * *
Son of a bitch! That did not happen. It did not happen. No one else saw it, ergo, it did not happen.
“Dude.” Sammy’s voice is awed. “That ghost just kissed you.” And then he starts laughing. “Wow, Dean, you’ve really got it. Even ancient, old lady ghosts want to get it on with you.”
And Dean is still too busy wiping his lips to answer him.
* * *
Everything feels kind of surreal. It’s like he’s watching it all through a tunnel and things look distant and voices kind of echo. It’s just not real.
“You listen to me Sam.” Dad’s not yelling anymore and that always gives Dean chills, but this isn’t real, so Dean is okay. “You walk out that door and don’t you bother coming back. You walk out that door and you are not my son. There is no coming back. You understand?”
For once, Sam doesn’t yell anything back. He just stands there with his mouth open, but nothing to say. He turns to Dean and they just kind of stare dumbly at each other.
“Dean?” His little brother needs him, but this can’t be real, so Dean can’t think of anything to say or do. Sam’s eyes turn dark and angry. “Fine.” He grabs his bag and shoves out the door. It swings shut behind him with a bang, loud and startling, as final as a gunshot.
And Dean knows: this is real.
fini
Author: Lunardreamed
Rating: Teen - nothing you wouldn’t see on an episode
Category: Gen
Characters and Pairings: Dean
Spoilers: not really
Series: N/A
Length: 1,167 words
Archive: Please tell me where.
Note: rinkle requested this and I adore her, so she gets what she wants.
Warnings: Flabbergasted sounds like a set up for comedy, but this is Supernatural, where the angst just writes itself.
Disclaimer: I mean no harm and make no money from this. The characters and concepts seen here are not mine.
_____________
Let’s make one thing clear. Dean Winchester does not do flabbergasted. He’s Dean Winchester. Son of John Winchester. Big brother. Monster hunter. First kill at sixteen. He does not get flabbergasted. Got it? Good.
* * *
“Isn’t he beautiful, Dean?”
Mommy’s like pretty things. Like flowers and butterflies and jewelry and pictures in crayon and finger paint. So, Dean figures he’s got a pretty good idea what beautiful is.
This wrinkly, loud, red . . . thing is not.
“This is your baby brother, Dean.”
Dean’s friend Josh is a little brother. His big brother plays football with Dean and Josh. Dean has big plans for his little brother.
What’s he going to do with this?
“His name is Sammy.”
Mommy and Daddy are beaming at the baby and giving Dean looks. Looks that say Dean is supposed to say something. Do something. Dean can’t for the life of him figure out what.
So, he just sort of looks at his "beautiful" baby brother.
* * *
Daddy says Mommy is gone forever. That doesn’t make sense. Who’s going to make Sammy stop crying? He’s real upset. Who’s going to kiss his burns and scrapes? They hurt. Who’s going to get rid of Daddy’s frown lines? Dean’s never seen frown lines so deep. He doesn’t think that he can get rid of them by himself.
Daddy crouches down and pulls Dean between his knees. They are going to have a serious talk. Man to man. Like when Daddy told him he was going to be a big brother. When Daddy told him he had to take of his baby brother always.
“Mom’s gone, Dean. You and I have to take care of Sammy now. We have to take care of each other. Things are going to be a bit different, but you’re a big boy now. You can handle it, okay?”
Dean looks straight into his father’s eyes and nods. He can be a big boy for Daddy and Sammy. Daddy gives him a weird smile, it’s all twitchy and his eyes are all wet, but he pulls Dean into his arms and Dean knows he is safe.
Daddy sets Dean down on the bed next to Sammy and returns to the bag he left on the table. Dean looks down at Sammy who burbles and smacks his hands together. Dean holds up his hands and Sammy grins and smacks them. Dean looks up at Daddy with a smile and feels a surge of fear.
That’s a gun. Daddy is holding a gun. Dean has known four things for sure in his life. Mommy will always be there. Daddy is safety. He has to take care of Sammy. And guns are bad.
When he was just little, he and Josh liked to point their fingers at people and shout “Bang! Bang! You’re dead.” Daddy had been very upset. He set Dean down for a man to man talk and told him how bad guns were. He told Dean that they were not toys and Dean must never ever play games like that, because guns hurt people and hurting people was bad.
But there is his dad, holding a gun, wiping a cloth over it and taking it apart and putting it back together and all Dean can do is watch him and hold Sammy tight.
The man who puts him to bed that night smells wrong. Dean doesn’t like seeing those hands that held a gun touching Sammy. He doesn’t like the look in Dad’s eyes. Dad doesn’t feel safe anymore. Dad feels like danger and fear and pain. Everything is changing and Dean doesn’t know what to do. So, he climbs into Sammy’s crib like he does every night and promises himself that one thing will never change.
* * *
When Dean is fourteen years old, he is the man. Dad leaves him alone to take care of Sammy and has promised him the Impala when he gets his driver’s license. Sammy thinks he is the smartest, bravest, coolest big brother ever. And a bunch of guys and girls think he is the coolest eighth-grader in their school. Not that he cares what a bunch of people too stupid to know what goes bump in the night think of him, but he happens to know that this group thinks he’s cool.
So, he hangs with them and sometimes he walks Tara home. Because it’s on the way and she’s a girl and, maybe, she’s kind of pretty too. Even if she doesn’t look like a Barbie doll, like all the girls on TV do. Who’d want to date a girl that looks like a magazine picture anyway? That’d be boring. It’s got nothing to do with the fact that none of the school’s Barbies will even give him the time of day.
He doesn’t carry her books though. She’s not his girlfriend and he’s not lame, thank you very much. Let no man mistake him for a gentleman.
At the end of her walkway, Tara turns to Dean with a confident, sly smile and says, “Thanks for walking me home, Dean.” And then, she leans forward and brushes her lips across his. It’s nothing like the movies, where kisses are long and loud and messy and people wrap their arms around each other like they think they’re octopuses. It’s quick and soft and she smells like cherry.
And Dean can’t think of anything as he stares after her, walking up to the door and vanishing inside her home.
* * *
Son of a bitch! That did not happen. It did not happen. No one else saw it, ergo, it did not happen.
“Dude.” Sammy’s voice is awed. “That ghost just kissed you.” And then he starts laughing. “Wow, Dean, you’ve really got it. Even ancient, old lady ghosts want to get it on with you.”
And Dean is still too busy wiping his lips to answer him.
* * *
Everything feels kind of surreal. It’s like he’s watching it all through a tunnel and things look distant and voices kind of echo. It’s just not real.
“You listen to me Sam.” Dad’s not yelling anymore and that always gives Dean chills, but this isn’t real, so Dean is okay. “You walk out that door and don’t you bother coming back. You walk out that door and you are not my son. There is no coming back. You understand?”
For once, Sam doesn’t yell anything back. He just stands there with his mouth open, but nothing to say. He turns to Dean and they just kind of stare dumbly at each other.
“Dean?” His little brother needs him, but this can’t be real, so Dean can’t think of anything to say or do. Sam’s eyes turn dark and angry. “Fine.” He grabs his bag and shoves out the door. It swings shut behind him with a bang, loud and startling, as final as a gunshot.
And Dean knows: this is real.
fini