[Fic} Jack's Lament (SPN)
Title: Jack's Lament
Rating: PG-13
Fandom(s): Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean, John. Gen.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Words: 1,144
Summary: Sammy doesn't care what he dresses up as Halloween when he's growing up, so Dean gets really creative picking out his costumes. Written for spn_halloween.
When Sammy was four he went as Bedtime Bear for Halloween. Within an hour he was asleep on John’s shoulder and Dean was collecting candy for both of them.
--
At five, Sammy went as a bunny. He insisted on hopping the whole night and actually made it five doors down the motel before he fell.
Sammy didn’t shed a single tear, just got back up and kept hopping.
Dean on the other hand looked like he was in immediate need of a hug after watching his baby brother tumble to the ground.
Luckily for Dean John was a master at Magical Daddy Hugs.
--
Sammy at six had his heart set on being a pirate. He knew exactly what costume he wanted too, the one from the store that came complete with an eye patch and bandana.
When John said no to the forty dollar costume Sammy did what any six-year-old would do. He begged and pleaded and cried and wailed until John picked him up and carried him out of left the store.
That year Dean gave Sammy his ninja costume (”Don’t know why you wanted to be a pirate anyway, ninjas are so much better.”).
Dean dressed up as his Daddy.
--
When Sammy was seven Dean was in the hospital with a broken leg.
Sammy didn’t get to dress up that year but he got to help Daddy push Dean’s wheelchair through the hospital when the children’s ward went trick-or-treating.
--
Sammy was the Robin to Dean’s Batman for his eighth Halloween.
John was averting an apocalypse two towns over and Dean had been given permission to take Sammy out rather than stay home.
They got in two fights and came back with two pillowcases and three plastic bags of candy.
--
Sammy’s ninth Halloween was spent locked in a dark bathroom trying not to cry and counting the seconds until his father and big brother came back.
--
So was his tenth.
--
His eleventh was better, if not by much. Dean made him a mummy costume by shredding sheets and he got detention when he skipped out after lunch. It was either that or punch Chad right in the face because he wouldn’t stop making fun of his costume.
Sam didn’t even get to go trick-or-treating that that year, part of his punishment for skipping class. It might not have been so bad a punishment if Dean hadn’t volunteered to stay home with him that night, that was like a big bag of salt poured directly into an open wound.
--
By the time Sammy was twelve he decided he hated Halloween, and trick-or-treating, and dressing up in costumes, and stupid kids, and cults who tried to raise “the devil” for their bidding.
Sammy had this stunning realization while dressed up as Luke Skywalker, (As much as he hated Dean at that moment it was pretty cool what he could do with a bed sheet and some staples) stuck in a car while they burned the remains of some thing that Dean had just killed.
--
Thirteen was zombies.
Okay, so not technically zombies, reanimated corpses. Still. Not fun
Sam threw up nearly all night long. The overpowering smell of rotting flesh combined with the stench of rotting flesh being roasted, (”Why Dean? Why did you set them on fire? It only pisses them off!”) was too much for him to bear.
The only upside to his night was neither Dean nor Dad could keep their food down either.
Well, that and managing to projectile vomit directly on Dean. That was kinda sweet.
--
Fourteen Dad was on another hunt, a quick one this time that would only have him gone a day or two.
Sam and Dean spent Halloween on the TexMex border. Dia de los Muertos is what they called it in Mexico, the Day of the Dead.
They made their mother a bed in their motel room and an altar with food for her.
When they woke up on the second day, cuddled together next to the bedding, the food was gone and Dad was back. All three of them denied eating the food but it didn’t matter to Sam.
If his mother really had come he'd missed his only chance to meet her.
--
Fifteen was a Halloween dance at school. Dean dressed Sam up as a marine and it had to be the one dance (Well, one of fifteen that night) where everyone pulled a Buffy and turned into their costumes.
Sam spent the next six years cursing Dean for using their father’s dogtags.
Who cares if he got everyone out of the school, he never wanted to be as single-minded and obsessed as his father.
--
At sixteen Sam got stuck in a “freak snowstorm” (Yeah, right) in a bar in New York as a fairy princess.
The bar was Dad’s fault, him having rented the room above it.
The fairy princess costume was Dean’s idea and Sam knew he was a fool even back when he agreed to it.
The only thing that made the night tolerable was watching Dean try his damndest not to flash his goods at everyone in his matching fairy princess outfit.
Well, that and the constant look of pain on Dad’s face every time one of them forgot to cross their legs.
--
Sam’s last Halloween “at home” was on a Tuesday. He was seventeen and waiting to hear back from colleges. He applied everywhere from MIT (Despite his lower-than-their-standard math scores) to Rio Salado Community College (Despite their less-than-average everything) in hopes of getting the hell away from the traveling circus that was his life.
Dean tried to get him to dress up, tried bribing him to throw a sheet over his head and “come find a party somewhere, you know I can’t do shit with you here pouting, man.”
And that was it right there, why he needed to get away. Away from his overly-strict father and his overly-protective brother. Away from nights spent wondering if he’s suddenly become an orphan.
Away from a life where at seventeen fucking years old he’s still not allowed to walk home from school without his big brother coming to get him. Away from a sad, sorry excuse for a life where all he does is kill things, sleep and look for more things to kill.
Sam’s last Halloween with Dean is spent underneath a sheet with holes for eyes, sitting on a couch in some random stranger’s house while the couple on the couch next to him dry humps each other and his brother tries to find someone willing to fuck him.
--
Sam’s first Halloween at Stanford is spent sleeping.
No costumes to wear.
No trick-or-treating to be done.
No parties to sneak out of.
No bathrooms to be locked in.
No family to fight with.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom(s): Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean, John. Gen.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Words: 1,144
Summary: Sammy doesn't care what he dresses up as Halloween when he's growing up, so Dean gets really creative picking out his costumes. Written for spn_halloween.
When Sammy was four he went as Bedtime Bear for Halloween. Within an hour he was asleep on John’s shoulder and Dean was collecting candy for both of them.
--
At five, Sammy went as a bunny. He insisted on hopping the whole night and actually made it five doors down the motel before he fell.
Sammy didn’t shed a single tear, just got back up and kept hopping.
Dean on the other hand looked like he was in immediate need of a hug after watching his baby brother tumble to the ground.
Luckily for Dean John was a master at Magical Daddy Hugs.
--
Sammy at six had his heart set on being a pirate. He knew exactly what costume he wanted too, the one from the store that came complete with an eye patch and bandana.
When John said no to the forty dollar costume Sammy did what any six-year-old would do. He begged and pleaded and cried and wailed until John picked him up and carried him out of left the store.
That year Dean gave Sammy his ninja costume (”Don’t know why you wanted to be a pirate anyway, ninjas are so much better.”).
Dean dressed up as his Daddy.
--
When Sammy was seven Dean was in the hospital with a broken leg.
Sammy didn’t get to dress up that year but he got to help Daddy push Dean’s wheelchair through the hospital when the children’s ward went trick-or-treating.
--
Sammy was the Robin to Dean’s Batman for his eighth Halloween.
John was averting an apocalypse two towns over and Dean had been given permission to take Sammy out rather than stay home.
They got in two fights and came back with two pillowcases and three plastic bags of candy.
--
Sammy’s ninth Halloween was spent locked in a dark bathroom trying not to cry and counting the seconds until his father and big brother came back.
--
So was his tenth.
--
His eleventh was better, if not by much. Dean made him a mummy costume by shredding sheets and he got detention when he skipped out after lunch. It was either that or punch Chad right in the face because he wouldn’t stop making fun of his costume.
Sam didn’t even get to go trick-or-treating that that year, part of his punishment for skipping class. It might not have been so bad a punishment if Dean hadn’t volunteered to stay home with him that night, that was like a big bag of salt poured directly into an open wound.
--
By the time Sammy was twelve he decided he hated Halloween, and trick-or-treating, and dressing up in costumes, and stupid kids, and cults who tried to raise “the devil” for their bidding.
Sammy had this stunning realization while dressed up as Luke Skywalker, (As much as he hated Dean at that moment it was pretty cool what he could do with a bed sheet and some staples) stuck in a car while they burned the remains of some thing that Dean had just killed.
--
Thirteen was zombies.
Okay, so not technically zombies, reanimated corpses. Still. Not fun
Sam threw up nearly all night long. The overpowering smell of rotting flesh combined with the stench of rotting flesh being roasted, (”Why Dean? Why did you set them on fire? It only pisses them off!”) was too much for him to bear.
The only upside to his night was neither Dean nor Dad could keep their food down either.
Well, that and managing to projectile vomit directly on Dean. That was kinda sweet.
--
Fourteen Dad was on another hunt, a quick one this time that would only have him gone a day or two.
Sam and Dean spent Halloween on the TexMex border. Dia de los Muertos is what they called it in Mexico, the Day of the Dead.
They made their mother a bed in their motel room and an altar with food for her.
When they woke up on the second day, cuddled together next to the bedding, the food was gone and Dad was back. All three of them denied eating the food but it didn’t matter to Sam.
If his mother really had come he'd missed his only chance to meet her.
--
Fifteen was a Halloween dance at school. Dean dressed Sam up as a marine and it had to be the one dance (Well, one of fifteen that night) where everyone pulled a Buffy and turned into their costumes.
Sam spent the next six years cursing Dean for using their father’s dogtags.
Who cares if he got everyone out of the school, he never wanted to be as single-minded and obsessed as his father.
--
At sixteen Sam got stuck in a “freak snowstorm” (Yeah, right) in a bar in New York as a fairy princess.
The bar was Dad’s fault, him having rented the room above it.
The fairy princess costume was Dean’s idea and Sam knew he was a fool even back when he agreed to it.
The only thing that made the night tolerable was watching Dean try his damndest not to flash his goods at everyone in his matching fairy princess outfit.
Well, that and the constant look of pain on Dad’s face every time one of them forgot to cross their legs.
--
Sam’s last Halloween “at home” was on a Tuesday. He was seventeen and waiting to hear back from colleges. He applied everywhere from MIT (Despite his lower-than-their-standard math scores) to Rio Salado Community College (Despite their less-than-average everything) in hopes of getting the hell away from the traveling circus that was his life.
Dean tried to get him to dress up, tried bribing him to throw a sheet over his head and “come find a party somewhere, you know I can’t do shit with you here pouting, man.”
And that was it right there, why he needed to get away. Away from his overly-strict father and his overly-protective brother. Away from nights spent wondering if he’s suddenly become an orphan.
Away from a life where at seventeen fucking years old he’s still not allowed to walk home from school without his big brother coming to get him. Away from a sad, sorry excuse for a life where all he does is kill things, sleep and look for more things to kill.
Sam’s last Halloween with Dean is spent underneath a sheet with holes for eyes, sitting on a couch in some random stranger’s house while the couple on the couch next to him dry humps each other and his brother tries to find someone willing to fuck him.
--
Sam’s first Halloween at Stanford is spent sleeping.
No costumes to wear.
No trick-or-treating to be done.
No parties to sneak out of.
No bathrooms to be locked in.
No family to fight with.