(no subject)
Ever since their youngest had been born, meals at the Winchester home had an adventure. In the beginning it had been that the little one always seemed to choose the exact time, when everyone was sitting down to eat, to voice her own need for food. Now that the toddler was sitting in her high chair, participating in the meals, it was becoming more and more a messy, gross and sometimes outright funny affair. Things that either one of them fed her often ended up being spit in any direction, finger foods on the other hands were thrown all over the table by the little girl or sometimes even at her parents or big brother. Lately her favorite game was to purposefully let the eating utensils or plate fall to the floor. She would look down then and squeal joyfully, when her mess was being cleaned up.
Today it were the green beans that ended up on the floor and while Dean went down to pick them up, little hands reached for his face and smeared mashed potatoes onto his cheeks.
“Samantha, those go in your mouth, not on daddy’s face.” Dean smiled at the happily screeching little girl.
“Daddy face ceam…”
“Oh, that right, you think daddy’s face needs cream?”
“Daddy ting, ceam soft…”
The young man scrubbed his hand over his face, “Guess you’re right, daddy’s face is a little stubbly. But baby, cream won’t make it softer. Only shaving will do that.”
“Daddy tave?”
Dean smiled, “Alright, daddy will shave, but first you need to eat, okay?”
“Tay, Tamta eat.” She said, stuffing some of the green beans that remained on her plate into her mouth.
“Wow, I’m jealous now.” Lisa stated, “I never got you to shave for me a second time in one day.”
“Well, I guess you would have to be two, have large hazel eyes and be able to wrap me around you little finger to get me to do this for you. You are just a little too old for me.” He smirked.
“Guess I can’t compete with my daughter.” She let her head hang in mock distress, “I should have had another boy.”
“Yeah, see, it’s all your fault.” He responded. Getting up, he leaned over, giving her a quick kiss, while letting their faces touch and smearing part of the potato mass on her cheek.
“Dean, you’re incorrigible, just like a child.” She called out laughing, getting up to wash her face, while Ben sat by laughing.
“I know, that’s why you love me.” Dean replied, wiping his face with a napkin.
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The young Winchester was still smiling, when he stood in the bathroom twenty minutes later, shaving the stubble off his face. Samantha was such a cute kid, with her dark curls and the large puppy dog eyes that were so irresistible, she could be Sammy’s twin…
A sob escaped him without warning. Sammy…man, he missed his little brother. He really had been a lot like this as a toddler, only there had been no happy family meals. Most of the time they had eaten take out, sometimes dad had made mac n’cheese or spaghetti. He smiled, remembering one specific time, when they had those long thin noodles.
“Sammy want wom…”
That was the reception six year old Dean received coming home from school.
“I don’t have any worms, Sammy.” The older boy picked the toddler up from the floor, “They come only out after it rains.”
“No wiggi wom, getti wom.” The little one protested.
“Oh, you don’t mean the wiggly kind, you mean Spaghetti.” Dean laughed, suddenly understanding. The last time they had the pasta; it had been while his little brother was recovering from a cold. Not really having his appetite back, Dean had tried his best to get Sam to eat. Finally he had picked up the fork and wiggled the noodles around in the sauce, calling them worms. He didn’t exactly know how, but it had been enough to get his brother to eat.
“Yeah, pasghetti…” The little guy clapped his chubby hands together, a smile as bright as sunshine on his face.
A thought popped up in the older brother’s mind, “Did dad say he was making spaghetti?”
“Yep, daddy say pasghetti!” Sammy nodded.
“I didn’t say a thing about making spaghetti tonight!” The elder Winchester’s voice could be heard growling from the hallway, before the rest of him appeared in the room, “I have no time for that, have to get ready for the hunt tomorrow.”
Almost instantly the bright smile disappeared and the little nose scrunched up. Tears appeared in those big hazels and the lips started to quiver.
“Sammy no get ghetti wom? Daddy mad at Sammy?”
Dean’s heart almost broke at the sight. Sitting down with his little brother on his lab, he thought for a moment. Remembering seeing a big can of Spaghetti and Meatball in the otherwise empty pantry, he said, “Don’t worry Sammy, I’m going to make you ghetti worms.”
The small face immediately lit up and short arms wrapped around bigger boy’s neck. A big slobbery kiss was planted on the older brother’s face, before the toddler started to jump around on his lab, screaming loudly in joy. “De make pasghetti. Sammy love De.”
When John Winchester walked into the kitchen half an hour later, he almost regretted not having fulfilled his youngest wish himself. Standing in the door, he watched Sammy sitting on his makeshift highchair, a wooden crate padded with a thin cushion that was sitting on a chair. A long scarf wrapped around the toddler’s abdomen and tied behind the back of the chair made sure he wouldn’t fall off. Right now the little guy refused to touch the food himself, instead insisting that his brother would feed him. Laughing the six year old gave in, picking up the fork and wrapping a few of the wormlike noodles around it. He used the utensil to break apart one of the meatballs.
“Look, the worms are digging through the dirtballs, look how strong they are.” Stabbing a piece with the fork, he continued, “Oh look, they can carry the dirt. Oh no, they are getting away from me.” He moved his hand like he had no longer control over it, then screamed, “Sammy, help, open your mouth, you have to stop them.”
Squealing, the toddler opened his mouth as wide as he could, barely waiting for the ‘strong worms carrying the dirtball to enter the opening, before biting down on them. Laughing Dean pulled the fork back, letting out a relieved sigh.
“Aw thanks, Sammy I don’t know what I would have done without you. They would have run away with my hand.”
“Do again, De, peeease!” Sam begged watching with delight, as his brother started the game again.
Before Dean knew it, the plate was empty. By that time his brother was a mess, his face red with sauce and several pieces of spaghetti and meatballs hanging in his curly hair, as the little guy had insisted that the worms were escaping from his mouth, trying to hide in the thick grass - his hair.
Looking up and seeing their dad stand in the doorway with a smile on his face, Dean got up and untied the scarf.
“You’re a mess Sammy, time for a bath.”
“Yey, Sammy pay tug-tug boat!” Not waiting for Dean to lift him, Sam jumped off the chair and ran toward the bathroom.
The older boy exchanged a glance with John then followed, starting to run, when he heard a loud thud. He found his brother on the floor, the little guy had obviously tripped over one of the weapons bags their dad left in the hallway and banged his head on the wall. Still lying on the ground, holding his breath, he started screaming, thick tears running down his cheeks, as soon as he spotted Dean. The older boy tried to pick him up, yet John, who had followed him, was faster and reached for his youngest.
The already deafening crying seemed to get only louder now, as the small body struggled in the large man’s arms. After a moment of unsuccessfully attempting to sooth his baby boy, the father was suddenly faced with very resolute, though tear-filled face, as his son sobbed, “No, Sammy want De!” before once again starting to wail. With a slightly frustrated shrug John handed his younger child off to his firstborn, finding to his amazement that the crying instantly seized.
Putting his thumb in his mouth, the Sam laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, “De make owi better.”
Holding the little guy back to inspect him, Dean noted the already forming discoloration on his forehead.
“I’ll get some ice!” John offered, feeling otherwise useless.
Nodding, the older boy drew Sam close again, blowing lightly on the area than placing a kiss on it, “Is it better now?”
The little boy looked at him with trust in his large hazel orbs, “De bow on owi and kiss it, make it all good!”
The memory was so vivid in his mind, it made his heart ache. Looking in the mirror, he noticed that a few silent tears had left tracks in the shaving cream on his cheeks, yet it was his inside that was crying out loudly for his little brother. At the same time he knew that the little brother he knew was gone anyway and even if there would be a way to go back, he could never bring him back.
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Saturday went by fast. It usually did, especially when they had to go to a ballgame. It was a beautiful day and Ben’s team did well, although they had to fight to the end for the win they finally took home. Dean was glad that his son took after him and chose baseball for a sport and not soccer. Sammy loved soccer and even though they never stayed in any one place for very long, he once won a trophy with his team. They found it later in one of dad’s storage units...
Damn, he had to quit doing this. He couldn’t live one live and constantly remember the other. It was driving him crazy.
“Let’s go to the burger place over on Sixth Street, I think we have something to celebrate.” He padded Ben on the back, hoping this would be distraction enough to keep his mind off his brother.
“Ooh, yeah, they have the best burgers there, way better than the ones at McDonalds.”
“That’s my boy!” Dean ruffled his hair.
“Yeah, big mouth that’s good only to put red meat in it.” Lisa laughed.
“Hey, we boys have a lot of growing to do.” Her husband protested, “Isn’t that true Ben?”
“Yeah mom, how do you think we won this game, by eating salads?”
“Wouldn’t hurt your dad to eat a few more of those.”
“Okay, I resent that remark; I’m in top shape here.” Dean complained, lifting her up and whirling her around, before kissing her.
“Okay, let’s just go, wouldn’t want you boys to starve. We girls have to watch our sexy figure, don’t we Sam?”
She picked the little girl up from the blanket on the ground and sat her in the stroller, pushing it in the direction of the parking lot.
“Better hurry, your mom and your sister might just get there first and eat every single burger in the place.” Dean laughed.
“Race you!” Ben took off running, followed closely by his dad, who pretended to give it his best, but in the end let his son win.
“Never would have let Sammy win, at least not this obviously. He never wanted to win unless he was sure he did it fair and square” He thought, once again lost in thoughts of his other life.
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They were at it all day. John called it training, but even Dean would give it no other name then torture. They started out this morning at four with a ten mile run through the forest, on trails that were soaked by the torrential rains that had come down over the last four days, until they got to a clearing, where their dad met them and watched them spar for two hours. After that they went hiking up the mountain, just at the time, when the sky decided to open up again and unload buckets of water on them, leaving them soaked to the bone. This and their load, persisting of a sixty pound backpack, made the hike up and later down again more than just a little difficult. Their nourishment on this hellish workout was water, like they didn’t get enough of that already and power bars that could be eaten without having to take a long break.
It all came to be thanks to John going on a hunt last weekend, leaving strict orders for both his sons to stay at home. Usually not a problem for Dean, the older brother was used to not just following his father’s orders, but also enforcing them. Yet this time he made plans to go out with Sondra Branson, the hot chick that worked in the bakery department at the local supermarket. He had his eyes on her for a long time and after always refusing him in the past, she finally agreed to a date. He even let his dad know about it, in anticipation of the elder Winchester leaving and possibly ordering him to stay home. Usually that would be enough, yet not this time and so for once it was Dean, not Sam, who defied orders.
It would have been okay, if the hunt wouldn’t have turned out to be a bust. So John had returned home Saturday night. Even that wouldn’t have been so bad, as Sam had covered for him, telling their father his brother had gone to bed early because of an upset stomach. The only problem had been that Bobby Singer had called John for help on another hunt he had been involved in only sixty miles away from them and the Winchester patriarch had planned on joining him yet the same night, taking his sons with him. So when he had found the bed empty, not just Dean had been in trouble for disregarding orders, but Sam also for covering for the older brother.
And now here they were, back in the clearing, once again sparing. They were at it for an hour and twenty year old Dean was feeling the torturous workout of the day getting to him. Looking at his little brother, he wasn’t sure how Sam was able to hold up as well as he did, as the teenager was going through a major growth spurt and his joints and muscles, which were already aching from the continuous stretching they went through, had to be overtaxed by today’s exercise regime. Yet there wasn’t a single complaint coming over the kids lips. It was his stubborn defiance that gave him the strength to go on, even now and Dean couldn’t help but admire Sam for it.
“You can stop now.” The command came from John, who was standing by and watching his sons, “I loaded the packs on the trucks. I’ll take them home. You can run the ten miles. The one that gets there first will get a hot shower and a soft bed, the other one gets to sleep outside in a sleeping bag.”
“You gotta be kidding me!” Sam blurted out.
“No and just that you know, don’t try to walk in together. In that case, I will choose who gets the bed and who will sleep in the bag.” Their father informed them, before getting in the truck and driving off.
For a moment Dean looked at the woods, knowing it would be a pain to make their way through it at this time of day. If the main road wouldn’t be almost twice the distant, he actually would be tempted to use it, but other than the distance, it would also be a direct defiance of John’s order and it could make things only worse for them. Seeing the look in his brother’s eyes, he nodded and together they took off into the setting sun of the late June evening.
They made it about halfway, before it was completely dark. It was only because of the relative wideness of the trail that the trees didn’t completely cover it and some of the moonlight was able to make its way down to guide their way. Still, there were several occasions on which one of them stumbled or even fell on the muddy ground. It was that mud that also made their run more difficult and wore on both of them. So when they reached the edge of the forest at last, it wasn’t too early for either of them.
Pausing for a moment, they exchanged glances.
“You ready?” Dean asked.
“I was born ready.” The breathless response from Sam didn’t sound anything as wise assed as it was supposed to.
Looking ahead to the rundown house they called home right now and judging the distance at about four hundred yards, the older brother waited for Sam to take another breath then said, “Okay let’s do this!”
Running towards the property line, it was Sam, who first crossed it. Panting, he let himself fall onto the wet grass right beside where John was waiting for them. It took only seconds before Dean joined him.
“Alright Sam, take a moment and then come in.” The elder Winchester said, “Dean, you know where the sleeping bags are. I’ll bring you some food later.” Leaving his sons to themselves, he walked into the house.
It took several minutes before the ragged breathing from both young men died down. It was Sam who started to speak first.
“You let me win!”
“Did not!” His brother denied.
“Do you really think, I didn’t notice how you suddenly held back?”
“I was tired.”
Sam looked at him sternly, “You might be able to pull that off in front of dad, but I know what you are capable off. You held back, don’t lie.”
“Just let it go, please!” Dean almost begged.
Seeing his brother shrug and get up, before slowly walking towards the house, he hoped that he won this argument. The kid needed to get some descent rest after this day. Giving himself another moment, he finally got up too and went to the Impala to retrieve one of the sleeping bags from his baby’s trunk.
Looking for a dry spot and grateful that it quit raining several hours ago and the sky looked clear; he suddenly heard steps coming from the house. Turning, he saw John, followed by Sam walk up to him.
Letting out a breath, he said with disbelieve, “You didn’t?
“I did…” There actually was a smirk on the teenagers face.
“Yes, he told me and I want to know, is it true? Did you let him win?” John’s voice was demanding nothing but the truth.
“I did, but only…”
“It doesn’t matter why.” His father interrupted him, “What matters is that you did. Sam didn’t win, so he doesn’t deserve to sleep inside.” Seeing the relieved expression on his youngest son’s face, he continued, “But because you tried to deceive me, you neither will sleep inside. Let that be a lesson.”
With that he turned and left them without another word.
For a moment there was silence between the brothers, before Dean started, “Why? Why in the world would you do this?”
“Because I don’t deserve sleeping in a bed, if I didn’t win.” Sam locked his hazel orbs, which in the light coming from the moon and the little outside lamp by the entrance looked almost black, with the greens of his brother, “I’m just sorry that you still have to sleep outside. That’s not what I wanted.”
A sudden grin appeared on the older man’s face, “It’s not that bad, at least you can keep me warm, bitch.”
“Guess again, jerk.” w as the only response he got, before Sam moved to retrieve his own sleeping bag from the trunk.
The night didn’t turn out as bad as they were afraid it would. No more rain, a warm early summer night, the hot food their dad brought them after a little while and not lastly the exhausting exercise of the day made for a comfortable sleep and a late awakening the next day. John actually let them sleep in for a change.
After that incident, Dean had never let Sam win again, although there had been many times he had been tempted to do so. Yet when his brother had finally managed to beat him fair and square, at least at times, it had been even sweeter. To Dean those occasions had never been a defeat, but rather had made him proud in a way that usually a father would be proud of his son. After all, he had been the one, who had taught Sam almost everything he knew about training and hunting. On the other hand Sam had never let him doubt that he recognized that fact and was more than grateful for it. They had become a team, partners and the initial big brother/little brother relationship had only recently, after a few years of almost breaking apart, changed into one of equals.
But even now Dean could still see the little boy and gangly teenager whenever he looked at Sam, no matter how old the younger man would be.
A pain lanced through his chest, when once again he became aware of the fact that there was no Sam. He would never get older, because his little brother didn’t exist and he needed to get his act together and get used to the fact.
TBC
Part 3