Supernatural Fanfic: Twenty Questions (2/20)
Title: Twenty Questions
Author: poestheblackcat
Chapter rating: PG
Chapter characters/pairings: Sam, Dean
Chapter warning/spoilers: None
Chapter summary: Enjoy the wee!Dean mini-whump and how Sammy pushes big brother’s buttons.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Unfortunately. Darn you, Kripke. So, like I was saying, it’s almost my birthday…Okay, wishful thinking?
Chapter 2: Sammy’s Favorite Word and Dean’s Bane
Dean wondered for the hundredth time that week when Dad was going to get home. It was still Wednesday. If he didn’t come soon, Dean was going to go nuts.
“Why?” Sammy asked again, petulantly.
‘Why’ was the three-year-old’s new favorite word.
‘Deanie, why salt not sweet? Why sugar not salty? Look same. Why not taste same?’
‘Why birdie talk? What dey say, Deanie?’
‘Deanie, why Daddy go?’
At first, it was cute, but now? Dean said a naughty word-in his head. It wouldn’t do to add that one to Sammy’s vocabulary.
He sighed. “Sammy. Because.”
Sammy pouted and crossed his little arms over his chest. “But why?” he whined.
Dean brushed his hand through his newly cropped hair (short, just like Daddy’s). He groaned. “Because I said so. Because I’m older. Okay?!”
Dean instantly felt terrible. Sammy’s large eyes filled with tears at the older boy’s outburst. His bottom lip trembled.
Dean swept his little brother into his arms. “I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to yell atcha. Okay? I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Sammy nestled his wet face into the crook of Dean’s neck. He sniffled and nodded.
Dean rubbed circles on his back and felt guilty for every hitched breath that shook the little body. His fault. “I’m sorry, buddy.”
Sammy sniffed again. “Deanie?” he mumbled.
Dean ran his hand through the tangled mop of hair at his chest. He hated trimming Sammy’s hair. He remembered Mommy liked the long hair he used to have. That was before the fire. He’d asked Dad for a real haircut because he was a big boy now. He had to be like Dad and take care of Sammy. Because Sammy didn’t have a mommy and Dad was always gone.
Great job he was doing of taking care of his little brother he was doing right now, though. He’d made him cry. But it was so hard sometimes. “Yeah, little man?”
“Why?” Sammy queried.
Dean groaned inwardly. “What do you mean, Sammy?” he asked patiently. “Why what?”
Sammy wiped the tears that had somehow made their way onto Dean’s cheeks with a dirty little hand wet from his own tears and snot. “Why you sawry? Why you cwy?”
Dean’s lips twitched. “Just because, Sammy,” he said, holding on tight. “Just ‘cause.” He sniffed. “And I’m not crying. Crying’s for girls and little kids.”
Sammy frowned, eyes narrowing as he examined his teary-eyed brother. “But you awre cwying.”
Dean tried to smile, as if nothing was the matter. “No, I’m not.”
Sammy put his hands on his hips and stamped his little foot. “Yes, you awre.”
The smile on Dean’s face turned into a real one. “No, I’m not,” he replied mimicking the toddler’s tone.
Sammy glared at his lying brother. “Yes.”
Dean sent a mock-glare back. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Ye-No, no!! No ticklies,” Sammy shrieked delightedly, scrabbling to get away from Dean’s wriggling fingers. “No-no!”
“ ‘No’ what?” Dean grinned, relentless.
“No, Deanie not cwying,” Sammy squealed out between giggles. “Not a guh-wull.”
Dean stopped, satisfied with the answer, and rolled back flat on the carpet. Beside him, Sammy uncurled from the ball he’d been trying to squeeze into to escape the tickling. The boys lay still, panting for breath from their brief exercise.
“Deanie?”
“Mm?”
The three-year-old rolled over on his stomach and blinked impishly down at this brother. He giggled. “Why?”
Dean gazed at the puppy-eyed rascal in disbelief. He threw his arm over his face and groaned whole-heartedly. “Arrrrrgh!! Sammy!”
Chapter 3: Daddy the Ass-ter-not