Memefic: Cold And Pie; PG
Title: Cold And Pie.
Characters: Sam, Dean, Mary and mentions of John.
Genre: Gen.
Rating: PG.
Word-count: 936.
Summary: Written for hoodie_time's Dean-focused hurt/comfort meme, for this prompt by lilithrain
Dean has a cold and is feeling miserable, Mary takes care of him.
Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural or any of the characters.
(Authors note: I'd like to thank my friend for reading this story before I decided to post it and for her help with the questions I had regarding some of what goes on in the story.)
For the third day in a row, Dean Winchester was stuck in his father's worn armchair watching the same cartoons with the same bored expression on his face because the cold from hell refused to budge from its four-year-old host. Dean was getting pretty tired of it; tired of being restricted to the chair and not being allowed to interact with Sam through fear of passing his illness on. He loved to play and babble along with his three-month-old brother; in fact it was the only way he enjoyed passing the time when his dad wasn't around.
He never understood why his dad couldn't just return home and toss a football around with him in the backyard. Aren't mothers and fathers supposed to love each other and stick together through thick and thin? Why wasn't his family like that? Why couldn't his family sit together and have a nice meal instead of constantly arguing over the phone?
Maybe it was his fault. Maybe the fact that Dean had previously fought a bully in the playground and got reprimanded in class was the reason why his father left. In his mind he didn’t see why a poorly behaving child deserved any love from anyone.
"Don't be silly," Mary had said when he suggested this, cupping her eldest son's cheek like she always did when he was upset “We both love you. It's just sometimes things don't work out." Despite her words of reassurance, Dean couldn't help but still feel a tad guilty.
After putting Sam to bed in his crib upstairs, Mary went over to Dean and began to rub his back soothingly as Dean was at the mercy of another coughing fit.
"Think it’s time for some more cough mixture?" Mary asked softly as the coughing eased. Dean gave her a small nod and she left for the kitchen.
Although this was the cold from hell, there wasn't much sneezing involved; there was just a horrible cough that made Dean's chest ache from the constant harsh movement. Even though the cough was pretty bad, the medicine to ease it was somehow even worse. The fluorescent pink liquid that came from a brown jar tasted what Dean imagined to be like sewage. The taste made want to throw up as opposed to making him feel better.
Dean attempted to move away when Mary brought back a small measuring cup that was half full of the disgusting concoction. Mary sighed heavily when she spotted Dean, she was used to his reaction by now and she would've done anything to avoid it had there been a form of alternative medicine.
"Come on Dean. You need this to get better," she lightly scolded her eldest son whilst pulling up a foot rest opposite him "Now open wide." Dean frowned and reluctantly opened his mouth.
After swallowing the foul pink medication, Dean's face contorted in such a way Mary couldn't help but laugh. Dean grinned, her laughter was music to his ears as it was something he rarely heard with the amount of time his parents spent arguing.
"Now since you've been such a good boy," Mary smiled broadly returning the foot rest to its original position near the sofa "how about I make you some pie?” Dean's whole face lit up like a Christmas tree on Christmas morning, Dean loved HER pie. It didn't matter where they bought premade pie from, it was nothing compared to the sweet, juicy, deliciousness that was Mary's homemade apple pie created by her loving hands. John had been trying to get the recipe so he could try and create one as a surprise for Dean's fourth birthday but like the tomato rice soup it remained a closely guarded secret.
Dean awoke to the smell of Mary's cooking wafting through from the kitchen opposite the lounge. He had decided to take a nap as he thoroughly believed that if you slept it would make things like the cooking of pie quicker. He had once again been proven right. Tempted by the scent, Dean slipped on his navy blue slippers and crept into the kitchen. He and Sam weren't allowed in the kitchen as Mary and John deemed the place too dangerous for them with all the sharp utensils and other things they kept in the large cupboards. However, since the food was already cooking and Dean knew not to open the cupboards, he thought it would be okay to go wait with Mary until the pie was ready.
What he saw when he entered the kitchen made his heart sink. His mother was stood alone beside the phone on the worktop, her head in her hands. It was obvious to him what had happened while he slept and it was clear what he needed to do.
Careful not to bump into any of the sharp corners of the various counters, Dean slowly approached his mother and wrapped his arms around his mother's legs.
"It's okay Mommy. Don't cry," he spoke in the best soothing voice he could muster "Daddy loves you and we do to."
"Sweetheart -" Mary began, her voice still broken from her crying as she wrapped her hand around the back of his head.
"And we'll always be here mommy, forever and ever and ever." Mary didn't quite know how to respond to this so the pair stood together silently, neither one of them wanting nor willing to move.
Despite the feeling of sadness that lingered, Dean cherished this rare moment of silence and comfort between them. It was a moment that Dean would look back on fondly in years to come.
Characters: Sam, Dean, Mary and mentions of John.
Genre: Gen.
Rating: PG.
Word-count: 936.
Summary: Written for hoodie_time's Dean-focused hurt/comfort meme, for this prompt by lilithrain
Dean has a cold and is feeling miserable, Mary takes care of him.
Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural or any of the characters.
(Authors note: I'd like to thank my friend for reading this story before I decided to post it and for her help with the questions I had regarding some of what goes on in the story.)
For the third day in a row, Dean Winchester was stuck in his father's worn armchair watching the same cartoons with the same bored expression on his face because the cold from hell refused to budge from its four-year-old host. Dean was getting pretty tired of it; tired of being restricted to the chair and not being allowed to interact with Sam through fear of passing his illness on. He loved to play and babble along with his three-month-old brother; in fact it was the only way he enjoyed passing the time when his dad wasn't around.
He never understood why his dad couldn't just return home and toss a football around with him in the backyard. Aren't mothers and fathers supposed to love each other and stick together through thick and thin? Why wasn't his family like that? Why couldn't his family sit together and have a nice meal instead of constantly arguing over the phone?
Maybe it was his fault. Maybe the fact that Dean had previously fought a bully in the playground and got reprimanded in class was the reason why his father left. In his mind he didn’t see why a poorly behaving child deserved any love from anyone.
"Don't be silly," Mary had said when he suggested this, cupping her eldest son's cheek like she always did when he was upset “We both love you. It's just sometimes things don't work out." Despite her words of reassurance, Dean couldn't help but still feel a tad guilty.
After putting Sam to bed in his crib upstairs, Mary went over to Dean and began to rub his back soothingly as Dean was at the mercy of another coughing fit.
"Think it’s time for some more cough mixture?" Mary asked softly as the coughing eased. Dean gave her a small nod and she left for the kitchen.
Although this was the cold from hell, there wasn't much sneezing involved; there was just a horrible cough that made Dean's chest ache from the constant harsh movement. Even though the cough was pretty bad, the medicine to ease it was somehow even worse. The fluorescent pink liquid that came from a brown jar tasted what Dean imagined to be like sewage. The taste made want to throw up as opposed to making him feel better.
Dean attempted to move away when Mary brought back a small measuring cup that was half full of the disgusting concoction. Mary sighed heavily when she spotted Dean, she was used to his reaction by now and she would've done anything to avoid it had there been a form of alternative medicine.
"Come on Dean. You need this to get better," she lightly scolded her eldest son whilst pulling up a foot rest opposite him "Now open wide." Dean frowned and reluctantly opened his mouth.
After swallowing the foul pink medication, Dean's face contorted in such a way Mary couldn't help but laugh. Dean grinned, her laughter was music to his ears as it was something he rarely heard with the amount of time his parents spent arguing.
"Now since you've been such a good boy," Mary smiled broadly returning the foot rest to its original position near the sofa "how about I make you some pie?” Dean's whole face lit up like a Christmas tree on Christmas morning, Dean loved HER pie. It didn't matter where they bought premade pie from, it was nothing compared to the sweet, juicy, deliciousness that was Mary's homemade apple pie created by her loving hands. John had been trying to get the recipe so he could try and create one as a surprise for Dean's fourth birthday but like the tomato rice soup it remained a closely guarded secret.
Dean awoke to the smell of Mary's cooking wafting through from the kitchen opposite the lounge. He had decided to take a nap as he thoroughly believed that if you slept it would make things like the cooking of pie quicker. He had once again been proven right. Tempted by the scent, Dean slipped on his navy blue slippers and crept into the kitchen. He and Sam weren't allowed in the kitchen as Mary and John deemed the place too dangerous for them with all the sharp utensils and other things they kept in the large cupboards. However, since the food was already cooking and Dean knew not to open the cupboards, he thought it would be okay to go wait with Mary until the pie was ready.
What he saw when he entered the kitchen made his heart sink. His mother was stood alone beside the phone on the worktop, her head in her hands. It was obvious to him what had happened while he slept and it was clear what he needed to do.
Careful not to bump into any of the sharp corners of the various counters, Dean slowly approached his mother and wrapped his arms around his mother's legs.
"It's okay Mommy. Don't cry," he spoke in the best soothing voice he could muster "Daddy loves you and we do to."
"Sweetheart -" Mary began, her voice still broken from her crying as she wrapped her hand around the back of his head.
"And we'll always be here mommy, forever and ever and ever." Mary didn't quite know how to respond to this so the pair stood together silently, neither one of them wanting nor willing to move.
Despite the feeling of sadness that lingered, Dean cherished this rare moment of silence and comfort between them. It was a moment that Dean would look back on fondly in years to come.