life is a highway
The Solid Thing
Supernatural (television)
...so basically spn_50states has taken over me. So I wrote fic to make myself feel better. This involves fictional people. wtf?! I know, I know. There is probably no audience for this fic, but I had to write it. First time I've written these guys so go easy. Also, I'm going to say that it's not technically Wincest since they're under the age of 15.
Sam is 7 and trying to be strong and Dean has just turned 12 and he is strong but neither of them feel very strong, looking down at the cut on Sam's arm. It stretches from the wrist to the elbow and although it isn't very deep, it's bubbling and dirty in a way that no normal cut should.
Dean tries to crack a joke. His voice cracks instead. "What have you been eating, Sammy?"
Sam looks at him in horror. There are tears in his eyes as he whispers, "Dean, where's Daddy?"
Daddy, thinks Dean. Right, Dad. Dad told him something important right before he went running out of the motel room after the. . thing that cut his little brother. The thing that wasn't supposed to be hovering over their bed in the middle of the night, the thing that Dean thought was a dream but knew it wasn't when Sam screamed. The thing that Dean kicked in the stomach, the thing that was solid and that his dad could take care of. His dad could always take care of the solid things. And Dean would always take care Sam.
It's 4 o'clock in the morning and there are tears on Sam's cheeks. Clean Sam up, Dean remembers his father ordering. And lock the door after I go.
He locks the door and pulls Sam over to the tiny sink. Fills a glass with water and empties a jar of table salt (stolen from the diner next door, his gut told him it'd be useful and besides, Dad said it was ok) into it. Holds Sam's arm over the sink, though Sam barely tall enough to see over the edge of the counter and has to stand on tiptoe.
"It might hurt, Sam."
Sam instinctively grabs his brother's hand. Dean pours the jar of saltwater over the cut and both boys wince when the cut begins to smoke. Sam clutches his brother's hand, eyes wide, face tight.
"Does it hurt?"
Sam shakes his head, but the tears are still falling. It's terror, mostly. Dean turns on the tap and runs some cold water over Sam's cut. It has stopped smoking, and it looks much more normal now. Normal is good. It's hardly even bleeding. Dean (who's just hit his first growth spurt and proud of it) squats down level with Sam's chest and begins to wrap Sam's arm. He has to let go of Sam's hand to do so and Sam moves closer to Dean, fear still all over his face.
"Sammy," says Dean, tying the bandage at the wrist and looking up at his baby brother. He tries to sound gruff like their dad. "Hey." He wipes some of the tears off Sam's cheek. "You'll be ok."
Sam throws his arms around his big brother and in a moment, Dean is carrying him to their shared bed and tucking him under the covers. Gets in next to him, refuses to turn off the light and sits up for the next three hours until their father comes back, exhausted but successful. Even though he's too old, Sam climbs into Dean's lap while they're waiting and falls asleep with his brother's arms around him.
John stands at the foot of the double bed and Dean stares back, waiting for criticism. Sam sighs in his sleep, face squished against Dean's arm.
John nods. "You're a good brother Dean," he says finally and Dean can fall asleep in peace now.
Supernatural (television)
...so basically spn_50states has taken over me. So I wrote fic to make myself feel better. This involves fictional people. wtf?! I know, I know. There is probably no audience for this fic, but I had to write it. First time I've written these guys so go easy. Also, I'm going to say that it's not technically Wincest since they're under the age of 15.
Sam is 7 and trying to be strong and Dean has just turned 12 and he is strong but neither of them feel very strong, looking down at the cut on Sam's arm. It stretches from the wrist to the elbow and although it isn't very deep, it's bubbling and dirty in a way that no normal cut should.
Dean tries to crack a joke. His voice cracks instead. "What have you been eating, Sammy?"
Sam looks at him in horror. There are tears in his eyes as he whispers, "Dean, where's Daddy?"
Daddy, thinks Dean. Right, Dad. Dad told him something important right before he went running out of the motel room after the. . thing that cut his little brother. The thing that wasn't supposed to be hovering over their bed in the middle of the night, the thing that Dean thought was a dream but knew it wasn't when Sam screamed. The thing that Dean kicked in the stomach, the thing that was solid and that his dad could take care of. His dad could always take care of the solid things. And Dean would always take care Sam.
It's 4 o'clock in the morning and there are tears on Sam's cheeks. Clean Sam up, Dean remembers his father ordering. And lock the door after I go.
He locks the door and pulls Sam over to the tiny sink. Fills a glass with water and empties a jar of table salt (stolen from the diner next door, his gut told him it'd be useful and besides, Dad said it was ok) into it. Holds Sam's arm over the sink, though Sam barely tall enough to see over the edge of the counter and has to stand on tiptoe.
"It might hurt, Sam."
Sam instinctively grabs his brother's hand. Dean pours the jar of saltwater over the cut and both boys wince when the cut begins to smoke. Sam clutches his brother's hand, eyes wide, face tight.
"Does it hurt?"
Sam shakes his head, but the tears are still falling. It's terror, mostly. Dean turns on the tap and runs some cold water over Sam's cut. It has stopped smoking, and it looks much more normal now. Normal is good. It's hardly even bleeding. Dean (who's just hit his first growth spurt and proud of it) squats down level with Sam's chest and begins to wrap Sam's arm. He has to let go of Sam's hand to do so and Sam moves closer to Dean, fear still all over his face.
"Sammy," says Dean, tying the bandage at the wrist and looking up at his baby brother. He tries to sound gruff like their dad. "Hey." He wipes some of the tears off Sam's cheek. "You'll be ok."
Sam throws his arms around his big brother and in a moment, Dean is carrying him to their shared bed and tucking him under the covers. Gets in next to him, refuses to turn off the light and sits up for the next three hours until their father comes back, exhausted but successful. Even though he's too old, Sam climbs into Dean's lap while they're waiting and falls asleep with his brother's arms around him.
John stands at the foot of the double bed and Dean stares back, waiting for criticism. Sam sighs in his sleep, face squished against Dean's arm.
John nods. "You're a good brother Dean," he says finally and Dean can fall asleep in peace now.