SPNL FIC: Long Days of Summer
Long Days of Summer
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean(12), Sammy(8)
Summary: Bobby’s spent some time with the Winchesters.
Warnings: Mentions of spanking and slighlty rough language. Not betaed.
Disclaimer: Not my characters. Just my crazy.
Notes: For minx999. Happy Birthday! I know this isn’t what you asked for, but muses! Just had to get it out, you know :)
The problem with youngsters is the energy. They have too much of it! And those Winchester boys? They’ve got about twice as much stored up just itching to run loose when they can.
The two little ones, Dean and Sammy, they’ve been staying at my place for about a week now. They’re good kids. Dean’s real interested in the cars and Sammy’s, well he’s just interested. It don’t matter much on what really. Kid’s a thinker.
It’s nice having those two around, for a few days here and there. They lighten up the place, and after a lifetime of fighting off evil, that kind of liveliness is just what an old guy needs.
Not that I’m old mind you!
Dean’s twelve now, and almost a teenager. He’s got the day marked on all the calendars that he can get his hands on, even the ones in the stores - which makes it slightly rhetoric asking him if he did those. Kid never learns.
But like I was saying, that boy’s mind is …creative. And it ain’t always a good thing either. Like, the first night that they spent here, right after Johnny’d left, he came up to me and tried to convince me that his daddy’s letting him drive now. Gotta hand it to him though, he had Sammy nodding right along with him.
Now Sammy, there’s a cute kid. His minds going a mile a minute and it’s raking out questions and observations faster than I can even think of answering. Let’s just say, I can get why Dean keeps punching the kid’s arm to shut up. Didn’t stop me from swatting him, but I get why.
He’d turned eight over at Jim’s place, broke all of them old ladies hearts that boy. Jim got a little party going for him there, used it to give Sammy and Dean some essentials without getting any of John’s evil glances in return. Man hates handouts. Idgit.
It’s easy enough to distract Dean, especially with all them folk driving through here for tourism and junk. Get a few need rides in each week. Minor repairs, some even Dean could handle himself. So I let him. Kid takes to cars like Sammy takes to books. But that one’s a problem.
I got plenty of books round this old place. Sammy’s eyes always light up in awe when they head round these parts. They just ain’t kiddie books. Hell, half of them weigh more than he does! But that don’t stop him from shoving them around the floor and flopping down besides them to read it. No matter how many times me and his daddy have smacked his bottom for it, Sammy keeps going at those books time and time again.
I’ve gotten to the point where I purposely keep some Sam-friendly books lying around the house. If he thinks he found them, he’s more likely to read it. If you hand it to him, he’ll think you’re trying to baby him. And he’s always willing to pipe up about how he’s no baby. Them two missing molars in his yapper say otherwise, if you ask me.
So it should probably not come as a surprise that just last night, right after I’d set the dogs out for the night and was sitting out in the porch, enjoying one of the few cool nights of summer and on the phone with another hunter when I hear one of them big books slam down on the floor. I could have swore that the boys were both sleeping, but wouldn’t you know it, I came running into my study and there was little Sammy in his too big pajamas looking like - well like he’d just gotten caught being where he wasn’t supposed to be.
You ever meet a lil pup, usually the runt of the bunch. They can give you these intense looks that damn near break your heart. Well that’s Sammy.
See, that’s why I let their daddy dish out their spankings, guy can’t handle them sad eyes. John’s immune to them, probably sees them day in and day out, but I ain’t got that kind of strength in me.
So when you see the kid wailing and screaming like a hellhound is after him, it’s all show. I barely made a mark on him. I just can’t have him in them books, especially in my office. But the little brat slept right on through the night after that, thank goodness I tell you.
But don’t go off thinking Dean’s some cherub or something now, cause you’d be looking the fool. Dean’s downright worse than his brother. He listens well enough, but he’s too good on catching loopholes and slipping right through them.
Here’s a great example. Been telling the boys not to touch any of the old rusted cars that I’ve got here mostly for their parts. Sammy, he’s got no need to go messing with the cars unless he’s suddenly ‘exploring’ which don’t happen often enough - thank graces. Now Dean, well him I caught up in the rusty cars twice, that’s two dang times, before I finally walloped his backside. By that point, not even Sammy’s big ol’ eyes are going to save his hid.
And then there was this other time, when a customer came in to pick up their car. It was an old Trans Am that Dean really liked, turned out that the little brat liked it so much he nabbed the car’s keys thinking that the man would just leave without them. He’s mighty lucky that I found him and Badger fighting over the set of keys fast enough. Because if that dang dog had swallowed them, it would’ve been more than just the wooden spoon on his behind.
And this other time…well, it’s been a long week.
So you see, when you call me in the middle of the afternoon with these stupid little offers of, what was it for this time, satellite? Well, that’s just taking time away from me keeping an eye on those two. And how the hell am I supposed to sit down and watch some show about whogivesadamn when Dean’s back there wrecking my kitchen and Sammy out wrestling with the dogs, again? Are you going to come here and do it for me? Hello? Hell - Damn people! Why the hell do they bother asking you bout your day if they won’t listen?
The End!