SPN - Thunder Road [Winchesters, PG]
Title: Thunder Road
Author: Nora
Fandom: SPN
Characters: Papa Winchester, Sam & Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 706
Spoilers: None, pre-series
Beta: None, my girl is busy this week *woe*
Authors Note: I was sitting in the car this morning, pissed ‘cause I had to work a double shift and this came into my head when my dad turned the radio on and this song was playing. This is for my dear Wifey; who is always my Deany.
Song Playing: Werewolves of London by: Warren Zevon
“Dean, keep your brother quiet, we’re never going to last this trip if he keeps yelling like that.” John gripped the wheel tighter, not wanting to get annoyed at his boys but the last thing he wanted after a long weekend of hunting was Sam crying their entire three-hundred mile drive.
“I’m tryin’, he don’t like storms.” Dean gripped the edge of the seat and climbed over to keep his baby brother company. “C’mon Sammy.”
Ignoring Dean, Sam kept waling, his eyes red and his chest rising and falling quickly the more upset he got, his face half hidden by his torn baby blanket.
The rain pelted down on the car as they drove down the interstate, the radio reception floating in and out and filling the car with nothing but static. And Sam’s screaming cries. “Dean...” The wheel was gripped tighter at John’s words.
“Yes sir.” Dean quickly hurried around the back seat, looking for a bear or something that would keep Sam occupied as they drove; or at least until the storm passed. “Sammy,”
“Storm bad.”
“Storm’s nothin’ but water, Sammy. We like water.”
“Nuuh. Water no go boom.”
“That’s just furniture, remember…” Sam shook his head, the tears starting again as he hid behind his blanket and Dean sighed, scooting on the seat next to his brother and thinking of a way to get him to stop sniffling. “You know I wouldn’t let nothing happen to you, Sammy. Little water’s not gonna hurt nobody.”
“Not water. Storm.”
“I dunno what to do. He won’t stop.” Dean’s eyes caught his fathers in the rearview mirror and it was a silent look that he should figure something out soon. “See if the radio’ll work.”
With a soft sigh, John turned the radio back on, nothing but static filling the car and irritating Sam even more. A moment later as John turned down the interstate the static turned into a faint buzzing mixed with faint sounds of piano music.
“Cha Brown?” Sam’s ears perked up as he looked out from his blanketed shield.
John’s lip turned up and he shook his head. “No, Sam.”
Dean tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow, trying to think of what the music was, his head started bobbing gently to the tune, his feet dangling off the edge of the seat and moving to the beat as well. Dean saw Sam watching him out of the corner of his eye and started to mimic what his brother did.
I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
A mans voice filled the car and the music continued to play, Dean understanding some of the words as Sam’s understanding was less than that. Both boy’s kept bopping back and forth to the music, John turning it up louder to drown out the thunder in hopes Sam wouldn’t notice it.
Ah-oo, werewolves of London
Sam giggled and Dean turned to him, mirroring his brother’s smile as the song continued to play. “Ah-oo!” Sam had turned to his brother and ‘howled’ in his face. Dean only laughed and did the same back to him.
Dean knelt on his knees in the back seat and faced his brother, getting a bit of height on him how he sat. “Ah-oo, werewolves of London!” John laughed as Sam tried to join Dean, the words far from matching but none of them seemed to mind.
For the remainder of the song the two boys giggled and howled, Dean trying to instruct Sam on the ‘proper’ way. Then again who knows the proper way to howl like a werewolf?
The two brothers giggled and howled themselves into exhaustion, long after the song was over and static filled the car. The two of them curled up in the back seat of the Impala, a tattered and fire singed blanket covering them both as Dean kept his arm tight around his baby brother in the silent ‘protector’ way that he showed now even at a young age.
It was a moment like this that made John miss the normal - family - moments, not the life they lead as hunters, the life he was raising his son’s for.
Author: Nora
Fandom: SPN
Characters: Papa Winchester, Sam & Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 706
Spoilers: None, pre-series
Beta: None, my girl is busy this week *woe*
Authors Note: I was sitting in the car this morning, pissed ‘cause I had to work a double shift and this came into my head when my dad turned the radio on and this song was playing. This is for my dear Wifey; who is always my Deany.
Song Playing: Werewolves of London by: Warren Zevon
“Dean, keep your brother quiet, we’re never going to last this trip if he keeps yelling like that.” John gripped the wheel tighter, not wanting to get annoyed at his boys but the last thing he wanted after a long weekend of hunting was Sam crying their entire three-hundred mile drive.
“I’m tryin’, he don’t like storms.” Dean gripped the edge of the seat and climbed over to keep his baby brother company. “C’mon Sammy.”
Ignoring Dean, Sam kept waling, his eyes red and his chest rising and falling quickly the more upset he got, his face half hidden by his torn baby blanket.
The rain pelted down on the car as they drove down the interstate, the radio reception floating in and out and filling the car with nothing but static. And Sam’s screaming cries. “Dean...” The wheel was gripped tighter at John’s words.
“Yes sir.” Dean quickly hurried around the back seat, looking for a bear or something that would keep Sam occupied as they drove; or at least until the storm passed. “Sammy,”
“Storm bad.”
“Storm’s nothin’ but water, Sammy. We like water.”
“Nuuh. Water no go boom.”
“That’s just furniture, remember…” Sam shook his head, the tears starting again as he hid behind his blanket and Dean sighed, scooting on the seat next to his brother and thinking of a way to get him to stop sniffling. “You know I wouldn’t let nothing happen to you, Sammy. Little water’s not gonna hurt nobody.”
“Not water. Storm.”
“I dunno what to do. He won’t stop.” Dean’s eyes caught his fathers in the rearview mirror and it was a silent look that he should figure something out soon. “See if the radio’ll work.”
With a soft sigh, John turned the radio back on, nothing but static filling the car and irritating Sam even more. A moment later as John turned down the interstate the static turned into a faint buzzing mixed with faint sounds of piano music.
“Cha Brown?” Sam’s ears perked up as he looked out from his blanketed shield.
John’s lip turned up and he shook his head. “No, Sam.”
Dean tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brow, trying to think of what the music was, his head started bobbing gently to the tune, his feet dangling off the edge of the seat and moving to the beat as well. Dean saw Sam watching him out of the corner of his eye and started to mimic what his brother did.
I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
A mans voice filled the car and the music continued to play, Dean understanding some of the words as Sam’s understanding was less than that. Both boy’s kept bopping back and forth to the music, John turning it up louder to drown out the thunder in hopes Sam wouldn’t notice it.
Ah-oo, werewolves of London
Sam giggled and Dean turned to him, mirroring his brother’s smile as the song continued to play. “Ah-oo!” Sam had turned to his brother and ‘howled’ in his face. Dean only laughed and did the same back to him.
Dean knelt on his knees in the back seat and faced his brother, getting a bit of height on him how he sat. “Ah-oo, werewolves of London!” John laughed as Sam tried to join Dean, the words far from matching but none of them seemed to mind.
For the remainder of the song the two boys giggled and howled, Dean trying to instruct Sam on the ‘proper’ way. Then again who knows the proper way to howl like a werewolf?
The two brothers giggled and howled themselves into exhaustion, long after the song was over and static filled the car. The two of them curled up in the back seat of the Impala, a tattered and fire singed blanket covering them both as Dean kept his arm tight around his baby brother in the silent ‘protector’ way that he showed now even at a young age.
It was a moment like this that made John miss the normal - family - moments, not the life they lead as hunters, the life he was raising his son’s for.