Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Anytime
Author:
blackandwhite02drabbles100 Challenge 57 "Lunch"
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Characters: Little!Sammy, Little!Dean, John
Pairing: None
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
“Good morning, Sammy,” John called out cheerfully as he leaned over his son. “Are you ready for your first day of kindergarten?”
Sam shrugged halfheartedly. “I guess so.”
John glanced at the other bed and frowned. “Where’s your brother?”
Sam anxiously sat up. “Dean?” he called out frantically.
“I’m right here,” Dean declared as he entered the room.
“Where did you go?” John asked disapprovingly.
Dean handed his brother a brown paper bag. “I was just making Sammy some lunch. It’s your favorite.”
Sam looked into the bag and grinned. “Peanut butter and jelly! Thank you, Dean.”
Dean shrugged. “Anytime.”
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Scary Stories
Author:
blackandwhite02drabbles100 Challenge 4 "First"
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Characters: Little!Dean
Pairing: None
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Dean was 9 years old when he went to his first sleepover. It was four boys in all, each around the same age, and it took place at Timonthy McCarthy’s house. The evening followed typical sleepover patterns and as midnight rolled around the boys settled in for the most traditional late night activity of all. . .scary stories.
“. . .and no one ever bothered Old Man Winters again,” Jeff finished.
Two of the boys were clutching their flashlights in fear while Dean yawned unenthusiastically. “There’s stuff scarier than that in the world.”
“Like what?” Timothy asked.
Dean thought for a moment. “Well. . .”
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: The Aftermath (a sequel to "Scary Stories")
Author:
blackandwhite02drabbles100 Challenge 33 "Too Much"
Rating: G
Word Count: 100
Characters: Little!Dean, John
Pairing: None
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
John Winchester pulled his car up to the curb with a frown. He hopped out and made his way up the walkway to the steps where his son was sitting. “What are you doing out here, Dean?”
Dean picked up his sleeping bag with a sigh. “Mrs. McCarthy is mad at me.”
“What happened?”
“We were telling scary stories last night.”
John froze. Oh no. . . “What story did you tell?”
“It was nothing!” Dean insisted. “I was just talking about the thing last year that destroyed Sammy’s door.”
John sighed. “I’ll go apologize to Mrs. McCarthy for you.”