Encuentros (SPN/PB Crossover)
Title: Encuentros
Author: gitanne101
Fandom: Supernatural/Prison Break crossover
Rating: G
Warnings: Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine all mine.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a white boxer called Logan
Notes: Wee!Winchesters & Michael; Dean's POV.
Summary: Even at this age, Sammy knows how to captivate an audience if he wants to.
Sammy has always been drawn to the helpless, being those animals or people. I’ve lost count how many times he’s tried to get dad to allow him to keep a stray he’s picked up in an alley or has given his food away to someone on the street.
Given that background, it’s not surprising that he’s currently chatting with a kid who looks like he’s had better days, weeks even, instead of running around with the other six year olds. I can see them clearly from my spot on the other side of the park. Why don’t I go close? ‘cuz Sammy needs his own space and I need mine. We’ve been holed up at the motel here in Chicago for four days now, and we’re getting into each others nerves so the park seemed like a great idea: I can still keep my eyes on him while he runs around free for a little while. Dad would kill me if I just let him come here alone.
The kid looks roughly my age and so far he doesn’t look like a threat - or interested in what Sammy has to say for that matter. He’s just sitting there, hands in his pockets, staring at the floor while Sam tries to get him to talk to him flashing one of his smiles. Finally, the kid lifts up his head; something my brother has said peaking his curiosity. Even from here, I can clearly see there is a bruise on his left cheek. His clothes are no better than ours, if a little worse for the wear and he seems like the quiet type. I wonder if he’s here alone. I look around but I don’t see anyone paying attention to them except for me, so I guess he is. From here, I can’t hear what they saying but Sam has finally succeeded in pulling the kid into an actual conversation instead of a monologue and both seem to be enjoying the company. I can see my brother gesturing and the other kid raptly listening to him, interjecting a word or two here and there. Even at this age, Sammy knows how to captivate an audience if he wants to. Suddenly I see the kid moving his head no in response to something my bro has asked and wrapping his arms protectively around himself, as if fending off the cold and maybe more than that. Sam gestures towards where I am standing pretending not to pay attention to their every move, and the kid’s eyes dart up in my direction. His eyes…they look like they can take everything in, dissecting me, my surroundings, the whole park in one sweep. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s some sort of supernatural quality to them. His attention is back to my brother once again and now it’s his turn to talk. He’s describing something, I can tell. They seem to be getting along pretty well, though from time to time dark shadows cross the kids face at some point or another of their conversation.
He extracts something from his jeans pocket and shows it to Sam; it seems to be some sort of dark colored wire or a piece of rope or something. He’s either explaining its significance or showing something in it to my brother because suddenly Sammy’s full attention’s on it. They talk some more and for the first time since their conversation started I see the other kid smile, a full-blown genuine smile. He twirls that thing in his hands and finally, as it giving it some thought, hands it over to Sammy. He doesn’t take it at first but then, at the kids prompting, finally grabs it and puts it in his own pocket.
Time to interrupt their little chat, Dad must be about to get back to the motel and we need to get there before it happens. If everything went well, we’ll be leaving tonight.
“Sam, time to go!” I yell as I start walking towards them. He quickly says his goodbyes and heads my way while the kid follows him with his eyes. I finally look at him directly and nod in acknowledgement; he narrows his eyes as if studying me, slowly nods back, stands up, and leaves in the opposite direction.
Later on, I found out his name was Michael.
Author: gitanne101
Fandom: Supernatural/Prison Break crossover
Rating: G
Warnings: Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine all mine.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a white boxer called Logan
Notes: Wee!Winchesters & Michael; Dean's POV.
Summary: Even at this age, Sammy knows how to captivate an audience if he wants to.
Sammy has always been drawn to the helpless, being those animals or people. I’ve lost count how many times he’s tried to get dad to allow him to keep a stray he’s picked up in an alley or has given his food away to someone on the street.
Given that background, it’s not surprising that he’s currently chatting with a kid who looks like he’s had better days, weeks even, instead of running around with the other six year olds. I can see them clearly from my spot on the other side of the park. Why don’t I go close? ‘cuz Sammy needs his own space and I need mine. We’ve been holed up at the motel here in Chicago for four days now, and we’re getting into each others nerves so the park seemed like a great idea: I can still keep my eyes on him while he runs around free for a little while. Dad would kill me if I just let him come here alone.
The kid looks roughly my age and so far he doesn’t look like a threat - or interested in what Sammy has to say for that matter. He’s just sitting there, hands in his pockets, staring at the floor while Sam tries to get him to talk to him flashing one of his smiles. Finally, the kid lifts up his head; something my brother has said peaking his curiosity. Even from here, I can clearly see there is a bruise on his left cheek. His clothes are no better than ours, if a little worse for the wear and he seems like the quiet type. I wonder if he’s here alone. I look around but I don’t see anyone paying attention to them except for me, so I guess he is. From here, I can’t hear what they saying but Sam has finally succeeded in pulling the kid into an actual conversation instead of a monologue and both seem to be enjoying the company. I can see my brother gesturing and the other kid raptly listening to him, interjecting a word or two here and there. Even at this age, Sammy knows how to captivate an audience if he wants to. Suddenly I see the kid moving his head no in response to something my bro has asked and wrapping his arms protectively around himself, as if fending off the cold and maybe more than that. Sam gestures towards where I am standing pretending not to pay attention to their every move, and the kid’s eyes dart up in my direction. His eyes…they look like they can take everything in, dissecting me, my surroundings, the whole park in one sweep. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s some sort of supernatural quality to them. His attention is back to my brother once again and now it’s his turn to talk. He’s describing something, I can tell. They seem to be getting along pretty well, though from time to time dark shadows cross the kids face at some point or another of their conversation.
He extracts something from his jeans pocket and shows it to Sam; it seems to be some sort of dark colored wire or a piece of rope or something. He’s either explaining its significance or showing something in it to my brother because suddenly Sammy’s full attention’s on it. They talk some more and for the first time since their conversation started I see the other kid smile, a full-blown genuine smile. He twirls that thing in his hands and finally, as it giving it some thought, hands it over to Sammy. He doesn’t take it at first but then, at the kids prompting, finally grabs it and puts it in his own pocket.
Time to interrupt their little chat, Dad must be about to get back to the motel and we need to get there before it happens. If everything went well, we’ll be leaving tonight.
“Sam, time to go!” I yell as I start walking towards them. He quickly says his goodbyes and heads my way while the kid follows him with his eyes. I finally look at him directly and nod in acknowledgement; he narrows his eyes as if studying me, slowly nods back, stands up, and leaves in the opposite direction.
Later on, I found out his name was Michael.