Five Times Dean Got Away with It, and One Time He Wished He Did (1/6)
Title: Five Times Dean Got Away with It, and One Time He Wished He Did
Author: luvspnl
Characters/Pairings: John, Nick (20), Dean(16), and Sammy(12) Winchester, OCs
Scenario: TeenChesters! And oh-deary me, the hormones!
Summary: The kid was quiet, that should have been the first clue. The fact that he was being helpful, quiet and smiley, it’s a miracle he hadn’t put it together faster really.
Warnings: This has some language and badassery, also slight spanking references, maybe, if you’re the kind to spot that kind of thing. Might be a sex reference or nine. (This is about Dean Winchester, after all!)
Disclaimer: Part of my (extremely Alternative Universe) Time ‘Verse, one-shot look at the Winchesters, created by Eric TheMan Kripke, with my characters added in.
Small children disturb your sleep, big children your life.
- Yiddish Proverb
Dana Louise Morrison. Just the sound of her name, not the best name he had to admit, but it was more than enough to get Dean…happy.
Dana Louise Morrison was the hottest girl Dean could recall from the past seven months at least. She had the longest red hair, the brightest smile, and she was friendliest cheerleader Dean had ever met. Rumor had it, she was a virgin. Not that Dean listened to too many of the local rumors. Rumor had it that he was some kind of provisional, delinquent nephew of the mayor or something like that.
Even as Dean sat, trying to listen to Dad’s instructions about where he and Nick would be for the week, who to call in case of emergencies, where the weapons were, really the usual that Dad said every single time that he left, since Dean was all of seven years old. He had most of the things covered, but he completely didn’t notice when Dad finished talking.
“Dean!”
Dean snapped his head up, away from images of Dana Louise Morrison bouncing around the outskirts of the field during practice.
“Yeah?”
“Excuse me?” John frowned.
“Yes sir?” Dean chanced a look over at his brothers. Sammy was shaking his head and rolling his eyes, but the recently twelve year old did that a lot, so it wasn’t much by indication.
Nick, however, looked a bit mad. But the recently twenty year old seemed to always carry himself like that towards Dean these days. Prick.
Dad stood up straight, and crossed his arms over his chest. Crap, most have missed something important.
“Am I boring you, son?”
A little, yeah. “No sir,” Dean replied, standing straighter himself.
Dad gave him the critical eye, and Dean was grateful the man, for all his superHunterpowers extraordinaire, couldn’t hear his heart pounding against his chest. Small favors.
“Your brother and I are going to be mostly gone this week,” John repeated himself. “We’ll likely be back each day, but either very late, or very early. Either way, you’re mostly going to be in charge of yourself and Sammy-
“I can take care of myself,” Sammy muttered, leaning against the table and poking at some papers with his fingers.
When no one spoke, Sam looked up to see his father giving him a less than pleased look.
“Sorry,” he said, meeting his Dad’s eyes and blushing slightly.
“I expect the both of you to get your asses out of bed in time and to school, get straight home, do your chores and your homework, and get to bed on time. It’s raining like hell, so I don’t expect you boys outside training, (which caused Sam to smile and give a slightly hidden triumphant jerk of the arm) but I also don’t expect to hear of either of you leaving this house for the same reason. If you need something, leave me a note on the fridge and I’ll read it when we get back.”
“Dad,” Dean groaned. “Come on, seriously? We can’t go out because it’s raining? What, are we supposed to melt and evaporate or something?” Dean rolled his eyes. In reality, he was miffed by the fact that any chance he would have garnered to get with Dana Louise would be thwarted before he even got started!
“I don’t mind,” Sammy shrugged.
“Of course you don’t,” Nick mumbled back. “And of course you would,” he rolled his eyes in Dean’s direction.
Dean returned the look of disgust in his brother’s direction. Prick.
“Enough,” John sighed. They hadn’t even left yet, and he could already forecast troubles ahead.
Sometimes, he had to wonder why he hadn’t had girls instead. The thought of boyfriends and dating always squelched that idea, but still. He doubted girls would be at each other’s throats as often as his boys were.
“Now, I don’t want to hear any bad reports while we’re gone. Dean, the Impala. To school and back. If you feel you need to go somewhere else, you ask me. I find out that you took that car out without permission, I’m taking your keys for the month.
“Oh come on!” Dean protested.
“Would two months make you feel better?” John frowned back.
“No, because I’m not going to take the car out,” Dean quickly repositioned himself. Clearly, his dad wasn’t having a good day, and if his sons knew one things about their father, it was not to aggravate the man when he was already balance on restraint.
“Damn right, you better not!”
John turned to his youngest son then, seeing Sammy’s attention once again in the papers that John had been researching. The kid wanted to dig his nose into any and every kind of reading material these days. It was odd, seeing as John, Nick, and Dean all had not once gone through a stage like that. Maybe it was another one of Mary’s traits? She was the one with books in the nightstand.
“Sam,” he called out, his voice harsher than necessary, but these were final orders after all. Sam looked up from his reading and straightened up, instantly sensing the attention turn to him. “I expect you on your best behavior, understood?”
“Yessir,” Sam nodded. He always tried to be on his best behavior. All three of the boys were more than well aware what bad behavior would warrant them.
“That means,” John went on to elaborate. “You listen to Dean, you get your work done, your chores, you get to bed on time. You leave this house for school, and school only. No library, no practice, nothing.”
“Dad!” Sam frowned. John knew the kid took any chance he could to get to the library, and he was more than pulling his weight on his latest soccer team. “Come on, you let us do more when you normally leave. And now that you’re gonna be so close-
“Exactly,” John interrupted. “I’m going to be close, close enough that I can come home every night. Which means close enough for this thing to get you.
“Dad-
“Close enough, Dean,” John interrupted his son. “To get this SOB that comes out during the rainy season to lunch on the towns folks. So tell me, exactly, why I should let my sons out onto the streets?”
The question was not intended for replies, and both Dean and Sammy looked away, shifting on their feet.
“Are you two done complaining, now, or do you want to waste the next ten minutes?”
“No sir,” Dean said, however, Sammy replied with a “Yessir.” And both boys frowned.
John sighed. “Never mind.”
“You have our cells,” Nick said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair in front of him. “Don’t be stupid and not call if you need us.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dean rolled his eyes. His brother was so bossy.
“Behave yourselves,” John said, tugging on his own jacket.
“Always,” Dean shrugged.
“Yessir,” Sammy replied.
John glared at his middle son, but wisely ignored him. The smart mouth on his kid, he could be there all day. Instead, he hugged both boys, kissed their foreheads goodbye, and shouldered his bag.
Nick hugged Sammy to his chest, squeezing the kid extra tight.
“Aggh!” Sammy struggled. “Need. To. Breathe!”
Smirking, Nick released his baby brother, ruffling the soft brown locks, and bending down enough to kiss at his temple. “Later Shorty!”
“Bye, Nicky,” Sammy returned the hug.
Then, Nick moved over to Dean, who stuck his hand out to be shaken. Nick, however, scoffed and instead used the hand to tug him forward. Wrapping his arm around Dean’s neck, he wrestling slightly with the teenager.
“Hey!” Dean groaned. “Dude, come on!” Dean tried to twist out of the hold, but Nick moved with him. He tried to stomp on Nick’s feet, but he seemed to sense this just in time to move them out of the way.
So he elbowed the prick.
“Ugh,” Nick groaned, releasing his hold on Dean’s neck from the impact on his stomach. Brat never fought fair. “Brat!” he swipped at Dean’s head.
“Serves ya right!” Dean moved out of the way and grinned.
“Boys,” John sighed and shook his head. “I don’t have all day.”
Dean grinned over at John, but kept his mouth close.
Nick came up behind him, grabbed him in a bear hug.
“No!” Dean frowned, trying to twist out of the hold. “Duuuude, I’m too old for this!”
Dean moved and dug his nails into his brother’s arm.
“Oww!” Nick groaned, moving to kick at Dean’s leg.
“Get off me!” Dean wiggled.
“Boys!”
The struggle stopped long enough for the brothers to look up and see their father’s less than pleased face.
“Seriously now?” John folded his arms. “Dean, knock it off. Nick, we’re leaving.”
“Fine,” Dean rolled his eyes, conceding and releasing his hand from pinching his brother’s arm.
“Good boy!” Nick said, turning enough to kiss at Dean’s temple before releasing him, and sidestepping the retaliation punch. “Later, you little weasel.”
John waited for his eldest to be beside him before reaching out to smack the back of his head.
“Real mature,” he said to the insulted face, rubbing his head.
Both Dean and Sammy giggled at that.
“And you two,” he said, finally reaching the door and ready to leave. “Go get ready for school.”
“What?” Dean groaned. “Dad, come on!”
“What did I just finish saying, Dean?”
“That Nicky’s immature?” shrugged Dean.
“Dean Michael-
“Fine! I’m going!” Dean turned around and headed to his room to get dressed. “But I don’t have to be happy about it!”
“You never are!” Nick yelled back at him.
“One more word out of you,” John turned to him. “And you’re staying home.”
Nick wisely shut his mouth. For good.
“Bye Dad,” Sammy smiled. “Later Nicky!”
DAY ONE
The only reason Dean even made it to school that day, was because Sam was such a geek.
Dean certainly never remembered the seventh grade being as much fun as Sam claimed it to be. High school sure as hell wasn’t a walk in the park either, but at least his park had a much better view.
“Hi Dean!”
Dean looked up from his locker and grinned.
“Hi Tara! What’s up?”
“Nothing,” she shrugged. “So, you got plans for tonight?”
Yeah, I plan on staying home, with my geek of a little brother and an extra butter bag of popcorn.
“Nothing really, have to look after my brother.” That sounded caring enough, Dean decided. He didn’t want to sound like a punk - and saying that his dad wouldn’t let him out during the rainy season would sound so macho - but it also wasn’t a lie.
“Oh, bummer,” Tara shook her head. She leaned back on the locker beside him, contemplating.
Dean stuffed his jacket into his locker, grabbed his notebook and his history book. He didn’t have History until after lunch, but it was the only one of his books that he could stand.
“What were you planning?” he smirked, slamming his locker closed.
“Nothing really,” she shrugged.
They started walking towards her class. Dean wasn’t about to head to his unless he really had to. Likely he would have to have a hall monitor drag him to his stupid algebra class.
“Then why the long face?” he nudged her elbow.
“Well, I was hoping not to have to spend home alone all night, but I get it. You’re brother’s still just a little kid, right?”
Dean looked straight ahead, and totally didn’t think about Tara’s chest, or her long legs, or how she would seemingly give him her full attention and then say just the right thing and have his focus on something completely different.
Like right that moment.
“All alone?” He chanced looking at her, gripping his books tightly in his hand.
“Just me and Buster,” she nodded. “My little sister’s cat.”
Dean hated cats. They always seemed to smell something on him that they didn’t like. Some dogs too, but mostly cats.
Still, to be alone with Tara McKingley!
“So, here’s español,” she stopped in front of a door.
“Yep, and that’s the bell!” he grinned. His class wasn’t completely on the other side of the school, but close enough.
“I’ll see you later?”
“Sure,” he shrugged and he started to walk away.
Until, he felt a tug back on his hand. Before he managed to turn around, he felt her hot breath by his ear.
“Hope your lunch slot is open.”
Turning, he just managed to catch the sight of the back of her (not that he minded) as she entered the class room.
Well, he thought, grinning as he headed to his own class. He was certainly glad he hadn’t skipped today.
Dean had the oddest lunch in history. He had met with Tara just outside of the cafeteria, but she had instead just winked at him and headed in.
So Dean had gone in too. He grabbed his food, sat in his usual table, listened to his current group of guys talk about something or other and tried to stifle his disappointment.
Besides, it was probably a good thing that they weren’t doing anything in some abandoned class room somewhere. The hall monitors were increased during the lunch periods.
It was all the glances that he caught Tara sending his way that made the meal almost unbearable. (Almost since it took a lot to get Dean to not eat.) He was trying to keep her out of his thoughts, but she kept dragging him back with those big brown eyes of hers. That soft smile on her face. The way she licked the ketchup off of the nuggets.
“Dude!” Carl Reiner punched his arm.
Dean looked up and noticed that seemingly everyone was moving.
“Didn’t you hear the bell?” Carl asked.
Dean gathered his books and his tray.
“Not like it’s worth the rush,” he said, walking over to the trash cans.
He walked slowly to the door, watching as the better, brighter students did everything possible to get themselves out the door and to their next class as soon as possible. Dean could never imagine himself rushing for something like that.
Unless it was for his Dad. Dad didn’t like for them to lag behind.
Just as Dean was entered the hall for his class, he again felt a tug at his hand.
This time, he was pulled right into an empty classroom.
“Hey!” Tara smiled, like they met like this all of the time.
“Nice place,” he teased.
“Mrs. Krissly’s photograph lab. She likes to take a double lunch.”
And then, she was on his lips and his books hit the ground. Dean discovered what a dark room was soon after.
He was pretty perceptive to sounds around him. He had to be, it was a matter of life and death when it came to his life.
Still, over the sound of his pounding heart and Tara panting in his ear, it took a while before he footsteps registered.
Apparently, Mrs. Krissly might take a double lunch, but sometimes, she had it in her classroom.
For the last two hours of school, Tara and Dean were chest to chest, hidden in a closet in the dark room. Lucky for them, the last class didn’t use the dark room.
“How come?” Dean asked as Tara shoved him out of the closet into the slightly more lit dark room.
“They’re still learning the stuff,” she shrugged. “Now hush!”
The walked over to the door, ears to the wood as they tried to guess when the class would leave. They would only have a small window of time, between Mrs. Krissly’s leaving and her return for the photography club. While Tara had every right to be there, she was in the club, third year, Dean would be a pink flamingo among the white swans.
Besides, he needed to go pick up Sammy.
“You’re sure she’ll leave?”
Tara nodded beneath him.
“Look at her,” she whispered back. “She’s two hundred pounds overweight, and had a two cans of orange soda two hours ago. She does this almost every day.”
Dean wasn’t too reassured. Not with the almost. The last almost had him in a closet for almost two hours.
If he got caught in a dark room, with a girl as hot as Tara, well it certainly wouldn’t take a genius to know what was about to have happened.
And he was not going to be a happy camper if his dad had to be called in.
Dean cringed at the thought.
“You’re late!” Sammy puffed, getting into the front seat.
Dean felt a little bad. They had managed to get out of the dark room, just like Tara said. They had gone to his locker, where Tara had kissed him and promised better for tomorrow. After she left, his English teacher spotted him, frowning over why he had skipped his class.
Dean wasn’t even completely certain what his excuse had been this time, but he was so grateful for whoever that freshman was that had interrupted them and had allowed Dean to weasel his way out of there.
Still, he was almost five minutes late to getting Sammy. And normally, he’d tell the little brat to shut up and be glad he doesn’t have to ride in the piss-smelling bus, but it was raining ghouls and goblins out still. He felt a little bad.
“Sorry, got caught up for a second.”
“Why?” Sammy frowned, rather glared, over at him unjustly. Brat.
“Talking with my teacher. Now mind your own.”
“Your teacher?” Sammy’s eyebrow shut up. “Are you in trouble?”
He certainly hoped not.
He rolled his eyes.
“None of your business, Sammy,” he said instead.
“Are you going to tell Dad?”
“Never if I don’t have to,” he frowned. “Even if I’m not in trouble, Dad will find a way to turn it on me.”
“That doesn’t make sense!” Sammy shook his head.
“Yeah? And when was the last time you were in trouble - In school!” At Sammy’s silence he smiled at his small victory. “Then trust me. Dad doesn’t like getting any class from school. Even just warnings.”
That night, Dean called Tara. She was, indeed, alone that night. He spent two hours talking to her, which was better than the two hours being barely able to breath (and trying to maintain a certain part of him from reacting to the oh-too-close contact).
Of course, he never looked at the clock.
When the phone got snatched out of his hand, Dean was about to turn around and punch Sammy in the arm - but it wasn’t Sam.
“Nick?”
His older brother didn’t even let him say goodbye. He just hung up the phone.
Dean tried not to pout.
“Why’d you do that?!” he twisted around in the couch, his arms on the back of the couch.
Nick put his hands on his hips. “Do you know what time it is?”
Dean was about to answer that duh, he knew how to tell time, but he honestly didn’t know the current time.
“It’s almost one in the morning. And Dad’s out in the truck, talking to Jefferson on the phone. You want to still be on this couch, arguing about how you shouldn’t have been on the phone this late, when he comes in?”
Dean’s eyes got bigger at the thought. He glanced at the door, dreading that it would open any second now. He stood up quickly, and dashed his way around the couch. Nick managed to land a particularly hard smack on his butt, but he didn’t stop to kill his brother just then. Rather get caught by Nick than Dad.
He got straight into his room, closed the door behind him. Sammy was fast asleep, and had been for hours. Dean dropped his jeans and tugged his shirt off as he stepped out of them. Both remained on the floor by the closet, but that wasn’t particularly new. He sat down on his bed, tugging off his socks and glancing around quickly for the flannel pants he had worn that morning.
He barely had them on and himself under the covers when he heard the front door open.
The next ten minutes, he let himself begin to calm. His heart stopped pounding as hard, and he was suddenly feeling very tired.
When his dad entered the room to check on them, Dean was almost asleep. Still not asleep enough to fool the man, however.
He felt the dip on the bed, but kept his eyes closed.
“Why are you still awake?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied back, eyes still closed.
“Why?” he could hear the concern in his dad’s voice just before he felt the callused hand on his forehead. He couldn’t help the smirk. “You alright?”
“Dad,” he opened his eyes, pushing the hand away from his head. “I’m not sick. I’m fine.”
John frowned for a second. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Late?” smirked Dean.
John reached over and lightly smacked his forehead.
“Very late. Get some shuteye, smarty. You done all your schoolwork?”
All that he had gone to class for, sure. “Uh huh,” he nodded.
“Good,” John stood up, leaning down to kiss Dean goodnight. “Goodnight, kiddo.”
Dean closed his eyes. He could feel his dad walk over to Sammy’s bed, fixing blankets, ruffling sleep tussled hair and kissing sleep warm little Sammy cheeks.
“Night Dad,” he said as he heard the man near the door.
TBC...
Author's Notes: Working on this on a day to day basis. Just finished part one and am posting. This is only slightly plotted. Any ideas on what Dean should get away with? ;P