Birthday Fic
For my darling friend, __3amconfession. You mean a whole lot to me, Kim. *points at icon* I hope this helps to brighten up your day or cap it off and I hope you got everything you want--especially the Paley disc. ;-)
Category: Gen, Supernatural (Though I guess you could see it as slash. But really, as the author, I am indifferent either way, so make your own judgement.)
Title: You Say It's Your Birthday
Author: MF Luder
Category: Gen, Supernatural
Keywords: Gen, pre-series
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: They belong to the CW and Kripke.
Archive: Sam/Dean Archive, my LJ, anywhere else, please just let me know so I can visit and pet my baby on occasion.
Summary: Sam's birthday.
Feedback: Mulder_Loves_Scully_Forever@hotmail.com
Author's Notes: It is the birthday of a dear friend of mine, __3amconfession. This is all for her. Images taken from Getty and altered by moi. Unbetaed.
“Sam, do you remember your third birthday?”
Dean had crept up behind his brother who was staring out the apartment window at the gloomy sky. Sam looked over his shoulder.
“I was three. As far as I know, cognizance doesn't start 'till about five.”
Dean made a face. “Don't go getting' smart on me here, geek boy.”
Sighing, Sam replied, “It has nothing to do with smarts. You're plenty smart yourself. You just couldn't be bothered.”
“What did I need to for? Even if I wasn't a hunter, I don't think I ever would have gone on to college. I probably would still have worked for Dad-just as a mechanic.”
“Yeah, but--”
“Look, I didn't come over here to start on the whole education issue. We both know you're leaving and there's nothing Dad or I can do to stop that.”
“What did you come over here for, then?” Sam asked softly, gently pulling at his hoodie, randomly picking at invisible lint.
It was Dean's turn to sigh. He walked in closer and put his arms around Sam's stomach, breathing in the woodsmoke and apple scent that seemed to be his baby brother. “Well, since you don't remember your third birthday, I'll just have to tell you.”
He paused to stare out the window with Sam, blinking as a giant bolt of lightening crossed the sky. “It was before Dad started moving around so much, and we'd been in this little neighborhood for awhile. I remember Dad invited all the kids over for cake and ice cream--”
“He did?” Sam's voice dripped incredulity and he tried to pull away and look at Dean, but he wouldn't let him.
“Yeah, he did. So, I remember all these parents bringing your little friends over and I swear, each one tracked in more mud-the parents I mean. We were living in Kentucky at the time and while that day was nice, I think it had just rained the day before or somethin' and all I remember thinking was I was going to end up cleaning it up.”
He felt Sam smile against his cheek.
“We opened presents-and yes, I mean we, cause your chubby little hands could hardly rip the paper, much less than the boxes-and I looked at this growing pile of toys ranging from Little Tykes to coloring books. I remember being so jealous and--”
Sam interrupted again. “You were jealous?”
“Well, I was only seven. And at seven, you don't really understand why you can't have gifts, too. Whatever. Anyway, I was jealous, but once everything was opened, you didn't reach for the toys like I thought you would. Instead, you reached for this giant pink bow and promptly tried to eat it.”
Sam laughed. A real laugh, full-bellied. A laugh Dean hadn't heard for the past two months, at least. Dean snuggled in closer, his breath now bouncing off Sam's clean-shaven cheek.
“Dad was in the kitchen, busy with the cake, and no one else seemed inclined to stop it. I was so upset, thinking you could choke on this thing, and not to mention, it was pink. So I pulled it out of your mouth and you just started crying.”
“This is way more embarrassing than I thought it would be, Dean...”
Smirking, Dean continued. “Dad came out, thinking God knows what, but maybe some monster had shown up and instead he found me trying to quiet you with one hand while holding the bow away from you with the other. That was back before you grew into a giant and I was actually able to keep it away. Dad just looked at you, then at me, and finally at the bow, and he cracked up. He started laughing so hard, he was nearly crying. 'Dean-o', he said to me, 'give your brother back the bow. It won't hurt him any.' And I was all like 'Dad, it's not healthy!'”
“Since when have you ever been worried about health?” Sam chuckled.
“When I was seven, I guess. I really don't know why I ever said that. But anyway, Dad made me give it back and you stopped crying, and happily munched away at that bright pink bow, and I wasn't quite so jealous anymore. After all, if you only wanted the bows, maybe I could play with the toys. Some time after, Dad brought all of the kids and you and me to the kitchen table and placed this giant chocolate cake in front of you. I remember, he smiled and kissed your head whispered something that involved 'Mary', but I never knew what it was. I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention at the time.”
“No, you probably weren't. I bet you were making goo-goo eyes at one of my little girl friends.”
Dean reared back in mock shock. “Sam! How could you think that? You think I was corrupted already by seven?”
“I think you were born a little pimp,” Sam grinned and yanked Dean back to him, resting his head on Dean's shoulder, nose brushing his neck.
Dean glared reproachfully, but it was only for appearances and he soon grinned as well. “Nah, actually, it was the cake I had my eye on. It was this huge-or huge to a seven-year-old-cake with vanilla frosting, and red, yellow, and blue balloons. I was in awe. And then...” Dean trailed off for anticipatory effect.
Sure enough, after a few moments, Sam wriggled, raised his head and finally spit out, “What? What happened?”
“Dude,” Dean laughed, “You totally took a head-first dive into that cake. It was everywhere. I mean...your face, your hair, your body, and like, three of the kids next to you. Even Dad had some on him.”
Sam was silent for a moment, before he let out another belly laugh. God, it was so good to hear Sam laugh like this again.
“Please, tell me we don't have pictures!!”
Dean reached into his back pocket. “Of course I do. See?”
Sam took one look and groaned. “Oh, man! That's awful. That's terrible!! Did I do something? Are you blackmailing me, Dean?”
“No, but I might some day.” Dean dodged Sam's grab easily enough, sliding the picture back into his pocket.
They were silent for a few minutes, both staring out at the darkening sky.
“Hey, thanks,” Sam said a few minutes later.
“What for?”
“Making me laugh. Remember it's not all bad around here.”
“No, Sam, it's not,” Dean said sadly. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder, still not used to having to reach up.
Another few minutes in companionable silence passed and then Dean grabbed Sam's arm and led him into the kitchen.
“What?” Sam asked, perplexed.
“I got...well, here ya go.” Dean hastily shoved a brown paper wrapped package into Sam's hands.
Sam turned it over carefully in his hands, seeming to want to memorize the damn wrapping.
“Just-just open it already. Geez.”
Sam smiled a little and then began peeling back the tape, dragging it out, even as Dean bounced on his toes. He hadn't been sure what to get Sam, but when he'd seen these things, they had just screamed his brother's name.
“You know...you forgot the pink bow,” Sam smirked.
Dean smacked his bicep. “Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
Then his face went serious as he found the knife, sheathed in a sturdy and smooth leather case. He pulled it out, resting it in his palm, feeling the weight and balance. His fingers smoothed over the carved inscription.
He then turned to the leather bound notebook, not unlike their father's, and his fingers ghosted over the gold letters on the cover.
Frater pro vita.
Dean ducked his head. “I found them in a little shop when I crossed the border into Canada, that last trip to Montana. I got the inscription put on back in the states. It means--”
“Brothers for life.” Sam said quietly, then looked up at Dean, holding the knife so tight, Dean was almost sure he was going to throw it, and he flinched. But instead, Sam just brought it closer to his own heart, almost as though he didn't know he was doing it and said, “Thank you. It means a lot. Really.”
“Sure, sure,” Dean rushed, relieved Sam had liked it, but not wanting to dwell. He hated the more cliché moments, even if they were heartfelt. “Just make sure you're not afraid to use that knife. I didn't buy it to look pretty. I want you safe. Got me?” If the last was a bit gruff, it was because Dean had a cough in his throat. Nothing more than that.
Sam nodded.
“Happy eighteenth, Sammy.”
Sam paused and then leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek like he hadn't since he was ten, before pulling back and punching Dean playfully in the stomach. “I always knew you were a sucker for these chick flick moments. Admit it,”
Dean quickly wiped away the emotions he was reeling from, putting them off to be studied at another time, grinned and said, “Never!”
That, of course, evolved into a brief wrestling match on the kitchen floor before Sam was soon shouting “Uncle!” and Dean let him up.
“And I got you something else, too.”
“Oh, did you?” Sam looked at him, pointedly, while he brushed his hair out of his eyes.
“Yep. Only...the people at the shop messed it up. But I figure, it's the thought that counts, right?”
“Sure...” Sam rolled his eyes. “What is it?” he asked, looking around.
Dean walked to the fridge and retrieved a giant box, bringing it to the table. “I figured, since Dad wasn't here to get you your cake this year, it was up to me.”
Sam's eyes lit up, and Dean was reminded of that three-year-old baby once more. “Chocolate?”
“Would I get my baby brother anything but the best?” He paused. “Just, please. If you're going to go cake diving again, let me know so I can grab my camera, 'k, bro?”
Sam snorted at that, but was still leaning in pretty close as Dean started opening the box.
“Like I said, they messed it up, only one letter right, even.” Laughing, he opened it the rest of the way. “So, happy birthday, Kim.”
And may you have many more happy ones to come, love. *HUGS*
ETA: johanirae made a cartoon of the bow scene from this fic. I'm very flattered and everyone should go see its adorableness! Sam and his pink bow
Category: Gen, Supernatural (Though I guess you could see it as slash. But really, as the author, I am indifferent either way, so make your own judgement.)
Title: You Say It's Your Birthday
Author: MF Luder
Category: Gen, Supernatural
Keywords: Gen, pre-series
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: They belong to the CW and Kripke.
Archive: Sam/Dean Archive, my LJ, anywhere else, please just let me know so I can visit and pet my baby on occasion.
Summary: Sam's birthday.
Feedback: Mulder_Loves_Scully_Forever@hotmail.com
Author's Notes: It is the birthday of a dear friend of mine, __3amconfession. This is all for her. Images taken from Getty and altered by moi. Unbetaed.
“Sam, do you remember your third birthday?”
Dean had crept up behind his brother who was staring out the apartment window at the gloomy sky. Sam looked over his shoulder.
“I was three. As far as I know, cognizance doesn't start 'till about five.”
Dean made a face. “Don't go getting' smart on me here, geek boy.”
Sighing, Sam replied, “It has nothing to do with smarts. You're plenty smart yourself. You just couldn't be bothered.”
“What did I need to for? Even if I wasn't a hunter, I don't think I ever would have gone on to college. I probably would still have worked for Dad-just as a mechanic.”
“Yeah, but--”
“Look, I didn't come over here to start on the whole education issue. We both know you're leaving and there's nothing Dad or I can do to stop that.”
“What did you come over here for, then?” Sam asked softly, gently pulling at his hoodie, randomly picking at invisible lint.
It was Dean's turn to sigh. He walked in closer and put his arms around Sam's stomach, breathing in the woodsmoke and apple scent that seemed to be his baby brother. “Well, since you don't remember your third birthday, I'll just have to tell you.”
He paused to stare out the window with Sam, blinking as a giant bolt of lightening crossed the sky. “It was before Dad started moving around so much, and we'd been in this little neighborhood for awhile. I remember Dad invited all the kids over for cake and ice cream--”
“He did?” Sam's voice dripped incredulity and he tried to pull away and look at Dean, but he wouldn't let him.
“Yeah, he did. So, I remember all these parents bringing your little friends over and I swear, each one tracked in more mud-the parents I mean. We were living in Kentucky at the time and while that day was nice, I think it had just rained the day before or somethin' and all I remember thinking was I was going to end up cleaning it up.”
He felt Sam smile against his cheek.
“We opened presents-and yes, I mean we, cause your chubby little hands could hardly rip the paper, much less than the boxes-and I looked at this growing pile of toys ranging from Little Tykes to coloring books. I remember being so jealous and--”
Sam interrupted again. “You were jealous?”
“Well, I was only seven. And at seven, you don't really understand why you can't have gifts, too. Whatever. Anyway, I was jealous, but once everything was opened, you didn't reach for the toys like I thought you would. Instead, you reached for this giant pink bow and promptly tried to eat it.”
Sam laughed. A real laugh, full-bellied. A laugh Dean hadn't heard for the past two months, at least. Dean snuggled in closer, his breath now bouncing off Sam's clean-shaven cheek.
“Dad was in the kitchen, busy with the cake, and no one else seemed inclined to stop it. I was so upset, thinking you could choke on this thing, and not to mention, it was pink. So I pulled it out of your mouth and you just started crying.”
“This is way more embarrassing than I thought it would be, Dean...”
Smirking, Dean continued. “Dad came out, thinking God knows what, but maybe some monster had shown up and instead he found me trying to quiet you with one hand while holding the bow away from you with the other. That was back before you grew into a giant and I was actually able to keep it away. Dad just looked at you, then at me, and finally at the bow, and he cracked up. He started laughing so hard, he was nearly crying. 'Dean-o', he said to me, 'give your brother back the bow. It won't hurt him any.' And I was all like 'Dad, it's not healthy!'”
“Since when have you ever been worried about health?” Sam chuckled.
“When I was seven, I guess. I really don't know why I ever said that. But anyway, Dad made me give it back and you stopped crying, and happily munched away at that bright pink bow, and I wasn't quite so jealous anymore. After all, if you only wanted the bows, maybe I could play with the toys. Some time after, Dad brought all of the kids and you and me to the kitchen table and placed this giant chocolate cake in front of you. I remember, he smiled and kissed your head whispered something that involved 'Mary', but I never knew what it was. I'm afraid I wasn't paying attention at the time.”
“No, you probably weren't. I bet you were making goo-goo eyes at one of my little girl friends.”
Dean reared back in mock shock. “Sam! How could you think that? You think I was corrupted already by seven?”
“I think you were born a little pimp,” Sam grinned and yanked Dean back to him, resting his head on Dean's shoulder, nose brushing his neck.
Dean glared reproachfully, but it was only for appearances and he soon grinned as well. “Nah, actually, it was the cake I had my eye on. It was this huge-or huge to a seven-year-old-cake with vanilla frosting, and red, yellow, and blue balloons. I was in awe. And then...” Dean trailed off for anticipatory effect.
Sure enough, after a few moments, Sam wriggled, raised his head and finally spit out, “What? What happened?”
“Dude,” Dean laughed, “You totally took a head-first dive into that cake. It was everywhere. I mean...your face, your hair, your body, and like, three of the kids next to you. Even Dad had some on him.”
Sam was silent for a moment, before he let out another belly laugh. God, it was so good to hear Sam laugh like this again.
“Please, tell me we don't have pictures!!”
Dean reached into his back pocket. “Of course I do. See?”
Sam took one look and groaned. “Oh, man! That's awful. That's terrible!! Did I do something? Are you blackmailing me, Dean?”
“No, but I might some day.” Dean dodged Sam's grab easily enough, sliding the picture back into his pocket.
They were silent for a few minutes, both staring out at the darkening sky.
“Hey, thanks,” Sam said a few minutes later.
“What for?”
“Making me laugh. Remember it's not all bad around here.”
“No, Sam, it's not,” Dean said sadly. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder, still not used to having to reach up.
Another few minutes in companionable silence passed and then Dean grabbed Sam's arm and led him into the kitchen.
“What?” Sam asked, perplexed.
“I got...well, here ya go.” Dean hastily shoved a brown paper wrapped package into Sam's hands.
Sam turned it over carefully in his hands, seeming to want to memorize the damn wrapping.
“Just-just open it already. Geez.”
Sam smiled a little and then began peeling back the tape, dragging it out, even as Dean bounced on his toes. He hadn't been sure what to get Sam, but when he'd seen these things, they had just screamed his brother's name.
“You know...you forgot the pink bow,” Sam smirked.
Dean smacked his bicep. “Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
Then his face went serious as he found the knife, sheathed in a sturdy and smooth leather case. He pulled it out, resting it in his palm, feeling the weight and balance. His fingers smoothed over the carved inscription.
He then turned to the leather bound notebook, not unlike their father's, and his fingers ghosted over the gold letters on the cover.
Frater pro vita.
Dean ducked his head. “I found them in a little shop when I crossed the border into Canada, that last trip to Montana. I got the inscription put on back in the states. It means--”
“Brothers for life.” Sam said quietly, then looked up at Dean, holding the knife so tight, Dean was almost sure he was going to throw it, and he flinched. But instead, Sam just brought it closer to his own heart, almost as though he didn't know he was doing it and said, “Thank you. It means a lot. Really.”
“Sure, sure,” Dean rushed, relieved Sam had liked it, but not wanting to dwell. He hated the more cliché moments, even if they were heartfelt. “Just make sure you're not afraid to use that knife. I didn't buy it to look pretty. I want you safe. Got me?” If the last was a bit gruff, it was because Dean had a cough in his throat. Nothing more than that.
Sam nodded.
“Happy eighteenth, Sammy.”
Sam paused and then leaned in and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek like he hadn't since he was ten, before pulling back and punching Dean playfully in the stomach. “I always knew you were a sucker for these chick flick moments. Admit it,”
Dean quickly wiped away the emotions he was reeling from, putting them off to be studied at another time, grinned and said, “Never!”
That, of course, evolved into a brief wrestling match on the kitchen floor before Sam was soon shouting “Uncle!” and Dean let him up.
“And I got you something else, too.”
“Oh, did you?” Sam looked at him, pointedly, while he brushed his hair out of his eyes.
“Yep. Only...the people at the shop messed it up. But I figure, it's the thought that counts, right?”
“Sure...” Sam rolled his eyes. “What is it?” he asked, looking around.
Dean walked to the fridge and retrieved a giant box, bringing it to the table. “I figured, since Dad wasn't here to get you your cake this year, it was up to me.”
Sam's eyes lit up, and Dean was reminded of that three-year-old baby once more. “Chocolate?”
“Would I get my baby brother anything but the best?” He paused. “Just, please. If you're going to go cake diving again, let me know so I can grab my camera, 'k, bro?”
Sam snorted at that, but was still leaning in pretty close as Dean started opening the box.
“Like I said, they messed it up, only one letter right, even.” Laughing, he opened it the rest of the way. “So, happy birthday, Kim.”
And may you have many more happy ones to come, love. *HUGS*
ETA: johanirae made a cartoon of the bow scene from this fic. I'm very flattered and everyone should go see its adorableness! Sam and his pink bow