7s_prompts 4.1.5. Picture prompt
http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m276/kayla_brucie_robinson/photography.jpg
Dean had just started putting something together for lunch, since his stomach was complaining (well, it was hurting a bit, so he assumed he was hungry, and his dad and brother probably wouldn't mind food, either) when John hissed.
"Dean. Take your brother and go out for a walk."
"But, dad, I'm making lu--"
"I said go out, Dean."
"But I'm hungr--"
"Walk. Now." His voice was a growl by now, even if Dean was already putting on the shoes on Sammy, stuffing his own feet shod, and heading out. "Don't come back, I'll come and get you."
"Are you--"
"Out."
"Yes, sir. We'll be... in the park."
That was as far as Dean could get before John shoved them both out the back door of the place they were squatting at. The boys were propelled for a few steps, then stopped and looked at each other, then back at the house.
Then there was a loud crash.
They both ran, Dean carefully making sure his little brother wouldn't fall down or fall behind.
By the time they got to the park, they were both panting for air, but at least they were both warmed up against the chill of the season. They stopped to catch their breath, looking around, but nothing seemed to be following them. Nor, the older boy noted, did any adults look at them oddly; they could lie their away around too much curiosity, but he didn't want to have to, right now.
Because he bent over, the hurt in his belly getting worse (later, it would turn out to be some kind of stomach bug. Not that it mattered) between the running and the worry.
"Dean? You okay?"
"Yeah, Sammy. I'm fine." He made himself straighten up, and took his brother's hand again. "Let's go walking, okay?"
"Sure. You think daddy's gonna be okay?"
"Of course, Sammy. He's always okay. He'll come find us in a bit."
The park alley was covered in a not-too-thin layer of fallen leaves. New England, Dean had learned, meant maples, and maples in the fall, additionally, meant that the leaves were a bright red color. As opposed to the yellows and browns in different places. Not that there weren't yellow and brown leaves around here, too. Orange, as well. It made for an interesting time, with them walking down the alley, kicking leaves from under their feet.
Then Sam tugged at his hand. "Look! A pile of leaves?"
"Yeah?"
"I think it will be all soft and everything..."
"Probably."
"Can I go and jump and see?"
Dean blinked briefly, then shrugged. "Sure?"
The littler boy's fingers slipped away from his and he ran to the intersection of alleys. Then bounced as far up into the air as he was able to and landed in a cloud of red and orange as the dry leaves, only semi-stacked on the pile, flew around him. "Whee!" He struggled upright over the uneven pile, and started jumping up and down. "Dean, you've gotta try this. It's awesome!"
"That's okay, Sam."
"No, really. I mean it! Come over here! This is big enough for both of us!"
It took a bit more beckoning and honest laughter, but Dean did walk over. Then he squinted at his brother, and plunged, arms flung out wide, onto the leaves. It wasn't quite like flopping down on a springs-and-mattress bed, but it was nice enough, the dry edges tickling his face and neck where it was exposed over the top of the jacket.
They were both bouncing up and down atop the pile, unobserved and unchecked, in no time at all. The laughter even made Dean forget about the bellyache.
When John did find his limping way to them, their eyes were bright - and there were dead leaves all over them. Even inside their underwear. They didn't even mind his grumping; that had so been worth it!
Dean had just started putting something together for lunch, since his stomach was complaining (well, it was hurting a bit, so he assumed he was hungry, and his dad and brother probably wouldn't mind food, either) when John hissed.
"Dean. Take your brother and go out for a walk."
"But, dad, I'm making lu--"
"I said go out, Dean."
"But I'm hungr--"
"Walk. Now." His voice was a growl by now, even if Dean was already putting on the shoes on Sammy, stuffing his own feet shod, and heading out. "Don't come back, I'll come and get you."
"Are you--"
"Out."
"Yes, sir. We'll be... in the park."
That was as far as Dean could get before John shoved them both out the back door of the place they were squatting at. The boys were propelled for a few steps, then stopped and looked at each other, then back at the house.
Then there was a loud crash.
They both ran, Dean carefully making sure his little brother wouldn't fall down or fall behind.
By the time they got to the park, they were both panting for air, but at least they were both warmed up against the chill of the season. They stopped to catch their breath, looking around, but nothing seemed to be following them. Nor, the older boy noted, did any adults look at them oddly; they could lie their away around too much curiosity, but he didn't want to have to, right now.
Because he bent over, the hurt in his belly getting worse (later, it would turn out to be some kind of stomach bug. Not that it mattered) between the running and the worry.
"Dean? You okay?"
"Yeah, Sammy. I'm fine." He made himself straighten up, and took his brother's hand again. "Let's go walking, okay?"
"Sure. You think daddy's gonna be okay?"
"Of course, Sammy. He's always okay. He'll come find us in a bit."
The park alley was covered in a not-too-thin layer of fallen leaves. New England, Dean had learned, meant maples, and maples in the fall, additionally, meant that the leaves were a bright red color. As opposed to the yellows and browns in different places. Not that there weren't yellow and brown leaves around here, too. Orange, as well. It made for an interesting time, with them walking down the alley, kicking leaves from under their feet.
Then Sam tugged at his hand. "Look! A pile of leaves?"
"Yeah?"
"I think it will be all soft and everything..."
"Probably."
"Can I go and jump and see?"
Dean blinked briefly, then shrugged. "Sure?"
The littler boy's fingers slipped away from his and he ran to the intersection of alleys. Then bounced as far up into the air as he was able to and landed in a cloud of red and orange as the dry leaves, only semi-stacked on the pile, flew around him. "Whee!" He struggled upright over the uneven pile, and started jumping up and down. "Dean, you've gotta try this. It's awesome!"
"That's okay, Sam."
"No, really. I mean it! Come over here! This is big enough for both of us!"
It took a bit more beckoning and honest laughter, but Dean did walk over. Then he squinted at his brother, and plunged, arms flung out wide, onto the leaves. It wasn't quite like flopping down on a springs-and-mattress bed, but it was nice enough, the dry edges tickling his face and neck where it was exposed over the top of the jacket.
They were both bouncing up and down atop the pile, unobserved and unchecked, in no time at all. The laughter even made Dean forget about the bellyache.
When John did find his limping way to them, their eyes were bright - and there were dead leaves all over them. Even inside their underwear. They didn't even mind his grumping; that had so been worth it!