Fic: I Miss Mommy (My Only Light Remix)
Title: I Miss Mommy
Author: mizra
Characters: John, bb!Dean, bb!Sam; mentions of Pastor Jim and Missouri
Genre/pairing: Hurt/Comfort, no pairings
Rating: G
Word-count: 1024
Spoilers: up through season 3 is fair game
Warnings: violent imagery and mentions of smoking (nothing we haven't seen on the show before)
Original story: ' The Only Light' by tifaching
Summary: When John puts Dean to bed, he never realized he would keep finding his oldest crawling back into his youngest's crib every night.
Disclaimer: Written for the hoodie_time Challenge 3: A Dean-focused H/C remix. Beta'd by mrscastielftw (who suffers my crazy, angsty stories in the midst of an angsty television episode without too much complaint). Big thank-you to tifaching for letting me remix her story, although I'm sure mine isn't nearly as good as her original. My interpretation of bb!Dean is based off my friend’s little boy, who’s about Dean’s age in the story, and who is also very protective of his new little brother. This is told from Dean's point-of-view at a very young age. I'm guesstimating here what he would understand and think about. A lot about his mom, his dad, and of course, his new baby brother Sam. (Some words are mis-spelled on purpose.)
-=-
Dean woke up with a start. He heard something outside his window. Daddy had put him to bed and kissed him goodnight. He remembered his daddy’s watery eyes and wanted to ask why Daddy was going to cry, but didn’t feel like asking yet. Not just yet. He only talked to Baby Sammy. He had said a few words to Daddy that night, but only the same thing he felt all the time: he missed Mommy.
He wondered if Baby Sammy was safe and warm and decided he wanted to be somewhere safe. At that thought, Dean crawled out from under the covers, that smelled of laundry and musty stuff, and tiptoed to the front room. He looked around and didn't see his Daddy anywhere. He did see Daddy's coat, the brown one that smelled a little like smoke and just little like the 'smelly stuff' his Daddy wore on his neck. Plucking it from the chair, he tried to put it on, to realize it still didn't fit.
The hem of the coat trailed the floor as Dean walked quietly back to Sammy's room. He stopped at the door way and peeked in. Everything was quiet. He walked quickly over and reached a little hand through the bars of the crib, stroking his baby brother's cheek.
“I miss Mommy,” Dean said, to his sleeping brother in the crib. They were at a man’s house that Daddy said was OK. He pulled Daddy’s coat tighter around him, and he could tell that it smelled like smoke. He murmured more about his mother into Sam’s little ears. “She could make vegebles taste good when she put peanut butter on the saralee. She listened to music that sounded funny and made me laugh and dance. And she sang to me at bedtime.”
Dean reached his little hand to pat his brother on the head, as he had seen his father and mother do countless times. Brushing Sam’s short fuzz of hair, feeling how it tickled his hand and he wanted to laugh, but he knew laughing wasn’t OK anymore. Daddy was too sad and Mommy was gone.
Mommy was gone forever. Misery said so. Daddy told him her name wasn’t Misery, but he couldn’t say it right. Mommy would have known how to say it so he could do it. She would have told him to sound it out, real slow.
“Mommy went to heaven,” Dean told his baby brother. He’s very protective of him, wants to keep him safe. Ever since Daddy said to take Sam and run, he always knew he had to protect him. Daddy told him so and Mommy would’ve been proud at how much of a big boy he’s being.
“Mister Pastor Jim said so. She’s in heaven with angels and God.”
Dean told his brother this, although he had no idea what that means. Mommy used to tell him angels watched over him while he slept, that they would keep him safe from bad things. He wasn’t sure about this God business, but if Daddy says Mister Pastor Jim was OK, he must know what he’s talking about.
Minutes passed by and Dean fidgeted from foot to foot, but still patted his brother’s head. Sam was still, breathing in and out. He still had the blanket from their old house. Daddy took them from the police station that night to the neighbor’s house - Mrs. Price, but her house smelled funny - and then took them to Misery’s house. Misery had made Dean cookies and gave Daddy milk and bottles for Sammy.
Misery had told Daddy that he needed to, “take those boys where a man of the loft was.” Dean didn’t know what a man of the loft was, but he thought Mister Pastor Jim looked nice enough. He gave him and baby Sammy a bed, so he was good.
A creak in the hall perked Dean’s ears and he looked about the room frantically. He remembered the heat and smell of smoke. He remembered fire and how awful it was that he had to leave his stuffed horse in his room. He wanted to get it - because Mommy had gotten it for him when Sammy came home from the stork - but Daddy gave him his baby brother and told him to run and not look back.
Daddy told him to never look back.
The creak turned into a shadow and fear crept into Dean’s heart and face. He clamored into his brother’s crib - coat and all - and without waking his sleeping brother, and wrapped his arms tightly around him. He kissed his cheek and told him he would protect him, no matter what.
Dean heard someone and he didn’t dare turn to look. Just as he began to shake and tremble, he realized it was his Daddy. He just came to check on him. It was OK. Sammy was safe. He thought he heard a crying sound, but Daddies don’t cry. Not unless something really bad happens.
That night when the firemen came and the policemen and Mrs. Price with a stinky blanket, Dean had watched Daddy cry for a long time. He held on to Sammy and him and just cried. He tried to 'shush' him, the way Mommy did when Dean skinned his knee that one time in the park, but Daddy just cried even harder.
Once he heard the door close, he sighed as only a little boy could. He relaxed his grip of his Daddy’s coat over them and snuggled closer to his brother.
“I’ll always protect you Sammy. Forever and forever and forever.”
Dean would remember doing this for the rest of his life. He always protected his brother, always watched over him. Even when their father left, giving Dean obscure instructions to help him, find him, save the world… he still protected his brother. I was born for this, he often thought to himself. Born to save people, hunt things.
And until his death (the first of many), he upheld his end of the bargain of protecting the innocent. Like his brother.
Author: mizra
Characters: John, bb!Dean, bb!Sam; mentions of Pastor Jim and Missouri
Genre/pairing: Hurt/Comfort, no pairings
Rating: G
Word-count: 1024
Spoilers: up through season 3 is fair game
Warnings: violent imagery and mentions of smoking (nothing we haven't seen on the show before)
Original story: ' The Only Light' by tifaching
Summary: When John puts Dean to bed, he never realized he would keep finding his oldest crawling back into his youngest's crib every night.
Disclaimer: Written for the hoodie_time Challenge 3: A Dean-focused H/C remix. Beta'd by mrscastielftw (who suffers my crazy, angsty stories in the midst of an angsty television episode without too much complaint). Big thank-you to tifaching for letting me remix her story, although I'm sure mine isn't nearly as good as her original. My interpretation of bb!Dean is based off my friend’s little boy, who’s about Dean’s age in the story, and who is also very protective of his new little brother. This is told from Dean's point-of-view at a very young age. I'm guesstimating here what he would understand and think about. A lot about his mom, his dad, and of course, his new baby brother Sam. (Some words are mis-spelled on purpose.)
-=-
Dean woke up with a start. He heard something outside his window. Daddy had put him to bed and kissed him goodnight. He remembered his daddy’s watery eyes and wanted to ask why Daddy was going to cry, but didn’t feel like asking yet. Not just yet. He only talked to Baby Sammy. He had said a few words to Daddy that night, but only the same thing he felt all the time: he missed Mommy.
He wondered if Baby Sammy was safe and warm and decided he wanted to be somewhere safe. At that thought, Dean crawled out from under the covers, that smelled of laundry and musty stuff, and tiptoed to the front room. He looked around and didn't see his Daddy anywhere. He did see Daddy's coat, the brown one that smelled a little like smoke and just little like the 'smelly stuff' his Daddy wore on his neck. Plucking it from the chair, he tried to put it on, to realize it still didn't fit.
The hem of the coat trailed the floor as Dean walked quietly back to Sammy's room. He stopped at the door way and peeked in. Everything was quiet. He walked quickly over and reached a little hand through the bars of the crib, stroking his baby brother's cheek.
“I miss Mommy,” Dean said, to his sleeping brother in the crib. They were at a man’s house that Daddy said was OK. He pulled Daddy’s coat tighter around him, and he could tell that it smelled like smoke. He murmured more about his mother into Sam’s little ears. “She could make vegebles taste good when she put peanut butter on the saralee. She listened to music that sounded funny and made me laugh and dance. And she sang to me at bedtime.”
Dean reached his little hand to pat his brother on the head, as he had seen his father and mother do countless times. Brushing Sam’s short fuzz of hair, feeling how it tickled his hand and he wanted to laugh, but he knew laughing wasn’t OK anymore. Daddy was too sad and Mommy was gone.
Mommy was gone forever. Misery said so. Daddy told him her name wasn’t Misery, but he couldn’t say it right. Mommy would have known how to say it so he could do it. She would have told him to sound it out, real slow.
“Mommy went to heaven,” Dean told his baby brother. He’s very protective of him, wants to keep him safe. Ever since Daddy said to take Sam and run, he always knew he had to protect him. Daddy told him so and Mommy would’ve been proud at how much of a big boy he’s being.
“Mister Pastor Jim said so. She’s in heaven with angels and God.”
Dean told his brother this, although he had no idea what that means. Mommy used to tell him angels watched over him while he slept, that they would keep him safe from bad things. He wasn’t sure about this God business, but if Daddy says Mister Pastor Jim was OK, he must know what he’s talking about.
Minutes passed by and Dean fidgeted from foot to foot, but still patted his brother’s head. Sam was still, breathing in and out. He still had the blanket from their old house. Daddy took them from the police station that night to the neighbor’s house - Mrs. Price, but her house smelled funny - and then took them to Misery’s house. Misery had made Dean cookies and gave Daddy milk and bottles for Sammy.
Misery had told Daddy that he needed to, “take those boys where a man of the loft was.” Dean didn’t know what a man of the loft was, but he thought Mister Pastor Jim looked nice enough. He gave him and baby Sammy a bed, so he was good.
A creak in the hall perked Dean’s ears and he looked about the room frantically. He remembered the heat and smell of smoke. He remembered fire and how awful it was that he had to leave his stuffed horse in his room. He wanted to get it - because Mommy had gotten it for him when Sammy came home from the stork - but Daddy gave him his baby brother and told him to run and not look back.
Daddy told him to never look back.
The creak turned into a shadow and fear crept into Dean’s heart and face. He clamored into his brother’s crib - coat and all - and without waking his sleeping brother, and wrapped his arms tightly around him. He kissed his cheek and told him he would protect him, no matter what.
Dean heard someone and he didn’t dare turn to look. Just as he began to shake and tremble, he realized it was his Daddy. He just came to check on him. It was OK. Sammy was safe. He thought he heard a crying sound, but Daddies don’t cry. Not unless something really bad happens.
That night when the firemen came and the policemen and Mrs. Price with a stinky blanket, Dean had watched Daddy cry for a long time. He held on to Sammy and him and just cried. He tried to 'shush' him, the way Mommy did when Dean skinned his knee that one time in the park, but Daddy just cried even harder.
Once he heard the door close, he sighed as only a little boy could. He relaxed his grip of his Daddy’s coat over them and snuggled closer to his brother.
“I’ll always protect you Sammy. Forever and forever and forever.”
Dean would remember doing this for the rest of his life. He always protected his brother, always watched over him. Even when their father left, giving Dean obscure instructions to help him, find him, save the world… he still protected his brother. I was born for this, he often thought to himself. Born to save people, hunt things.
And until his death (the first of many), he upheld his end of the bargain of protecting the innocent. Like his brother.