SPN Fic: The Wellington Fort (Part 2/3)
Title: The Wellington Fort
Category: Gen, pre-series
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dean, Sam, John
Summary: The way Dean told it that summer was the best of their lives. For Sam, it was the summer he stopped believing in heroes. 9-year-old Sam and 13-year-old Dean.
Warnings: Swearing. Themes of child abuse. Hurt Dean
Word Count: 1560 (this section)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of its creators and the CW network.
Author’s Note:
This is Part 2 of a 3 part story. Part 1 can be found here. A big thanks to kokoda2007 for the beta.
Part 2
Sam sat bored out of his mind in the backseat of the Impala. Dad got a call about some killings in North Dakota and had needed to leave without much notice. He needed Dean’s help so that meant Sam got to go along too since they wouldn’t have time to drop him off with anyone. As if he wasn’t nine years old and old enough to take care of himself.
“So then Caleb stumbles inside, completely wasted by this point, and yells ‘don’t turn on the chipper.’ ” Dad finished his story and Dean threw his head back against the headrest and laughed.
Dad’s eyes were bright and he winked at Sam in the rear-view mirror. “What do you think about that, kiddo? Pretty good, right?”
“Yeah.” Sam laughed a bit, but hadn’t been paying attention.
“Oooh, Dad, how about that time in the corps when that guy super-glued his hand to his rifle?”
“Oh yeah, that’s a good one. So it was fuckin’ hot that day and…”
Sam let the voices of his dad and brother and the rumble of the engine lull him to sleep.
“Sammy, wake up! Bathroom break. I already let you stay sleeping while I went in.”
He woke up to Dean tossing his shoe at him. “Gross, you jerk. I don’t want your stinky shoe.” He pretended to choke. “Can’t breathe. Need. Air.”
“Hurry and pee, dude, Dad’s already done pumping the gas.”
“I don’t have to pee.”
“Go when you can not when you have to,” said Dean.
Sam groaned. That was one of Dad’s favorite lines. “Fine, DAD.”
“When did my adorable little brother turn into such a smart ass? You’re not going to help me pick up chicks being a smart ass. You need to stay adorable. ‘Oh, what a cute little brother you have there. Why don’t we go make out?’” Dean said using an overly high-pitched voice. He pinched Sam’s cheeks a lot harder than any girl would.
“Quit it.”
“Fine, I’m going in to the gas-mart to grab something for dinner. What do you want, cutie-pie?” That last bit came out all high-pitched again. For some reason Dean’s girl voice had a southern accent.
“Boys!” came Dad’s voice from the gas pumps. “Stop messing around!”
Sam and Dean jumped out of the car and started towards the building.
“Dean, come here.” Dad pointed to the ground right in front of his feet.
Before Sam went into the store he looked back and saw Dad grab a hold of Dean’s arm and yank him close enough to talk to him right in his face. He hurried in the bathroom and when he came back outside Dad still held Dean’s arm with one hand and was shaking his finger at him with the other.
“Get in the damn car,” said Dad.
He got in the backseat and knew better than to ask about dinner. Dean and Dad got in shortly after and they were back on the road. Everyone was silent and hardly moved for several minutes until Dean went through their backpack and pulled out a couple of granola bars for him. “Sorry, Sam. That’s all we have.”
Dad said, “Maybe next time you’ll remember we don’t have all damn night to get to Bismarck. That spook could kill someone else tonight, you know.”
Sam stopped chewing his bar, not hungry anymore. His brother was sitting tensely in the front seat, staring straight ahead. He used to think that nothing ever got to him. He and Dad could take anything. Sam realized that Dean was acting just like he did whenever he felt bad and hid out at the fort. Dean was hiding now, right there in the front seat. Even though Dean didn’t cry or say anything or do anything like Sam would have, he still had those feelings.
Sam dropped the second granola over the seat so it landed next to Dean.
“That’s kind of you, Sam, but Dean has a lesson to learn here.”
Why was it always Dean who had to learn these lessons? “I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Fine. Dean, put it away for Sam to eat when he decides he is hungry.”
Dean went to put the granola bar away and it made Sam so mad he couldn’t stand it. Why did Dean just take it when Dad was like this?
His eyes burned and his heart thumped. “No, that’s stupid! Why can’t Dean have it if I can? We’re sorry we were slow. Dean’s sorry!”
“That’s enough!”
He shut up but tears streamed down his face.
“You’re nine years old, damn it. You’re too old to be acting like this.”
So he was too old to act like a baby but still too young for anything else? His frustration got the better of him and he kicked the back of the seats.
Dad swatted his leg. “If I have to stop this car, so help me God…” He didn’t finish.
“I’ll take care of him,” said Dean as Sam curled up in the backseat crying. Dean jumped over the seats and pulled Sam’s legs into his lap. “Sammy, I ever tell you about that time in Arkansas when that kid tried to take my backpack?”
He didn’t answer, but Dean wasn’t looking for a response.
“That kid had serious issues, man. Warner. Ha, even his name sounds like a Jackass.”
So just like that, things went back to normal. Sam woke up some time later when Dean climbed back into the front seat.
“He asleep?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thanks, Dean. I can always count on you, son.” Dad clapped his hand on Dean’s leg and Dean smiled.
Maybe Sam had overreacted. Dad did his best, right? Dean always got the worst of it and he always made sure Sam knew Dad always did what was best for them. There weren’t a lot of dads that took care of their kids like Dad did. He fell asleep promising himself he’d try harder.
They’d been home from the salt and burn in North Dakota for a couple of days and were jogging on the trail in the early-morning sun when Sam started thinking about it again. Sam picked up on a lot that went on with his family, a lot more than even Dean knew. He knew that Dad never got mad at him like he got mad at Dean. He always thought it was because Dean was such a screw-up, but he was beginning to realize that a lot of things that he did, had Dean done them, he’d have gotten in big trouble for. It must be because Dean’s older. Dad will probably be this hard on him when he gets to be Dean’s age.
Dean had slowed his pace so Sam could catch up. He pumped his legs harder and ran up along his brother.
“Don’t be a pussy now, Sammy, we’re almost done.”
“I’m not. Being. A.” huff “Pussy.” Thankfully Dean slowed to a stop and Sam leaned over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
“Whew, some run, huh? We ran for longer today.”
“No shit.” said Sam.
“Boy!” Dean did a perfect impression of Dad. “God damn it, you watch your language!”
Sam laughed as much as he could given he was out of breath, but then got serious and looked up at Dean who was sporting more evidence that he’d gotten in trouble with Dad some time this morning. “Why’d he hit you?”
Dean stopped smiling and brushed sweat off his brow and leaned back against a tree. “Shit, Sam, why d’you always have to bring up stuff like that? I got in trouble of course, why else would he hit me?”
Of course. Why else did Dad ever hit them? Sam could count on one hand the times Dad had hit him and even though he didn’t like admitting it, he probably deserved it every time. The last time was around Christmas time when he got mad because Dad wouldn’t let him go to a friend’s Christmas party. He’d jumped out of the Impala at a stop light and ended up getting in some trouble in a bad neighborhood. What did this breach in obedience and subsequent trouble illicit from Dad? A stern warning and a calm “this is for your own good” before getting a few wallops from the belt. Sitting down wasn’t pleasant afterwards, but he doubted if it even bruised. Had Dad said “this is for your own good” and calmly hit Dean across the face? Sam doubted it. Had Dean done something as bad as the Christmas stop-light incident? Sam really doubted that one.
Click here to continue to Part 3