SPN Ficlet
From the call for prompts here. girlfan1979 gave me "wooden spoon, falling leaves, rain," which honestly stumped me at first. But... I wrote Weechesters! For the first time ever. :)
a blinking light is just a blinking light
(okay, I gave it a title. whatever.)
G...ish.
875 words
Weechesters - Dean is around 5, Sam is around 1. Consider it to be just under a year since Mary died.
Fear created a knot in his throat as he wiped the rain from his face. Moisture dripped down into his eyes, but he squinted into the darkness, trying to keep the strong, level-headed Marine on top of his dedication as a father.
His boys were gone.
John didn't understand it. He'd left to get ice, and when he came back to the room the door was wide open and his boys weren't inside. Dean damn well knew that he and Sam were not supposed to leave the hotel room without him. John shouldn't have had to say it so explicitly every single night; Dean knew it by now.
As furious as he was, his fear was stifling his anger. He had to find them. He couldn't lose them so soon after losing Mary. He clenched his teeth and peered into the pouring rain once more.
He paused in the middle of the parking lot as one of the street lights started flickering. The hairs on the back of his neck rose; he'd been warned about the signs to look out for, and he knew what a flickering light could mean. He stared hard at the lamp, blinking as rain drops fell in his eyes.
The light flashed twice more, went out, and then turned on, bright and steady again. John let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He knew the signs, but sometimes a blinking light was just a blinking light.
That was when he heard it, barely audible above the sound of the rain hitting the pavement.
"Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean."
It was familiar and beautiful. John spun on his heel, nearly losing his balance on the slippery leaves that had fallen down to the parking lot asphalt. "Sam?" he whispered.
"Dean. Dean. Dean."
"Shh, Sammy. It'll hear us."
"Dean!" John cried, sprinting towards the sound. He turned the corner around the hotel office and nearly ran into a vending machine.
"Dean. Dean. Dean."
John peered around the edge of the vending machine and looked down, relief warming the chill that had been running through his body. He didn't know whether he should laugh or cry and the scene in front of him.
Dean was soaked to the core, kneeling down on the rough pavement. He was hunched over to shield the bundle of blankets in his arms, and one chubby hand was reaching out of the blankets to tap Dean on the face. "Dean. Dean," the blankets were saying with each tap. In one hand, Dean had a white knuckled grip on a wooden spoon, handle-side up.
John knelt down in front of his boys, unsure whether he should start screaming or just wrap them both up and take them home. "Dean, you know you and Sam aren't supposed to --"
"There's a monster in the bathroom, Daddy," Dean whispered, his fist clenching tighter around the spoon.
John paused, reaching out to wipe the moisture from Dean's face. The hand that had been tapping Dean's cheek grabbed John's thumb, and Sam giggled. "What kind of monster, Dean?"
"I don't know. It made a scary sound, and then it made the toilet bubble." Dean pulled Sam closer, trying to keep his brother out of the rain. "You told me to run with Sam if I ever saw a monster, so I ran."
John bit the inside of his cheek. Dean had been jumping at shadows ever since Mary died, and he was observant enough to know that his father thought something - not someone - had killed her. John quickly scooped his boys into his arms, hugging them close. "You did good, Dean. You protected Sam." Dean nodded, but then shivered. "Let's get you two back inside."
"No!" Dean's voice came out in a panicked whisper and he pulled the spoon close to his chest. "I don't wanna go back in there! There's a toilet monster!"
John opened his mouth, but he caught himself before he told his son that it was a cheap hotel, that the sounds and gurgles were probably just a few bubbles in the plumbing, and that there were no such thing as toilet monsters. He'd only just begun to scratch the surface of what was really out there, so who knew? There really could be toilet monsters. "It's probably gone by now. You can stay by the door with Sam while I go check it out. Okay, Dean?"
Dean swallowed, nodded once, and then buried his head underneath John's chin. John smiled and turned to head back to their hotel room.
"Dean. Dean. Dean."
"Ow, Sam. You poked me in the eye."
"Hey, Dean?" John asked.
Dean lifted his head. "Yeah?"
"What's with the spoon?"
Dean ducked his head. "I thought the toilet monster might chase us, so I grabbed it while I was running."
John blinked. "A spoon?"
"So I could kill the monster with it."
"With a spoon?" John repeated.
Dean tilted his head to the side in frustration. "It's wood. You kill vampires with wood stakes. Thought it would kill a toilet monster, too."
John choked back a nervous laugh as he readjusted Sam on his hip. "Good... thinking."
Dean grinned.
~ ~
The next night, John gave Dean his first real knife.
a blinking light is just a blinking light
(okay, I gave it a title. whatever.)
G...ish.
875 words
Weechesters - Dean is around 5, Sam is around 1. Consider it to be just under a year since Mary died.
Fear created a knot in his throat as he wiped the rain from his face. Moisture dripped down into his eyes, but he squinted into the darkness, trying to keep the strong, level-headed Marine on top of his dedication as a father.
His boys were gone.
John didn't understand it. He'd left to get ice, and when he came back to the room the door was wide open and his boys weren't inside. Dean damn well knew that he and Sam were not supposed to leave the hotel room without him. John shouldn't have had to say it so explicitly every single night; Dean knew it by now.
As furious as he was, his fear was stifling his anger. He had to find them. He couldn't lose them so soon after losing Mary. He clenched his teeth and peered into the pouring rain once more.
He paused in the middle of the parking lot as one of the street lights started flickering. The hairs on the back of his neck rose; he'd been warned about the signs to look out for, and he knew what a flickering light could mean. He stared hard at the lamp, blinking as rain drops fell in his eyes.
The light flashed twice more, went out, and then turned on, bright and steady again. John let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He knew the signs, but sometimes a blinking light was just a blinking light.
That was when he heard it, barely audible above the sound of the rain hitting the pavement.
"Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean."
It was familiar and beautiful. John spun on his heel, nearly losing his balance on the slippery leaves that had fallen down to the parking lot asphalt. "Sam?" he whispered.
"Dean. Dean. Dean."
"Shh, Sammy. It'll hear us."
"Dean!" John cried, sprinting towards the sound. He turned the corner around the hotel office and nearly ran into a vending machine.
"Dean. Dean. Dean."
John peered around the edge of the vending machine and looked down, relief warming the chill that had been running through his body. He didn't know whether he should laugh or cry and the scene in front of him.
Dean was soaked to the core, kneeling down on the rough pavement. He was hunched over to shield the bundle of blankets in his arms, and one chubby hand was reaching out of the blankets to tap Dean on the face. "Dean. Dean," the blankets were saying with each tap. In one hand, Dean had a white knuckled grip on a wooden spoon, handle-side up.
John knelt down in front of his boys, unsure whether he should start screaming or just wrap them both up and take them home. "Dean, you know you and Sam aren't supposed to --"
"There's a monster in the bathroom, Daddy," Dean whispered, his fist clenching tighter around the spoon.
John paused, reaching out to wipe the moisture from Dean's face. The hand that had been tapping Dean's cheek grabbed John's thumb, and Sam giggled. "What kind of monster, Dean?"
"I don't know. It made a scary sound, and then it made the toilet bubble." Dean pulled Sam closer, trying to keep his brother out of the rain. "You told me to run with Sam if I ever saw a monster, so I ran."
John bit the inside of his cheek. Dean had been jumping at shadows ever since Mary died, and he was observant enough to know that his father thought something - not someone - had killed her. John quickly scooped his boys into his arms, hugging them close. "You did good, Dean. You protected Sam." Dean nodded, but then shivered. "Let's get you two back inside."
"No!" Dean's voice came out in a panicked whisper and he pulled the spoon close to his chest. "I don't wanna go back in there! There's a toilet monster!"
John opened his mouth, but he caught himself before he told his son that it was a cheap hotel, that the sounds and gurgles were probably just a few bubbles in the plumbing, and that there were no such thing as toilet monsters. He'd only just begun to scratch the surface of what was really out there, so who knew? There really could be toilet monsters. "It's probably gone by now. You can stay by the door with Sam while I go check it out. Okay, Dean?"
Dean swallowed, nodded once, and then buried his head underneath John's chin. John smiled and turned to head back to their hotel room.
"Dean. Dean. Dean."
"Ow, Sam. You poked me in the eye."
"Hey, Dean?" John asked.
Dean lifted his head. "Yeah?"
"What's with the spoon?"
Dean ducked his head. "I thought the toilet monster might chase us, so I grabbed it while I was running."
John blinked. "A spoon?"
"So I could kill the monster with it."
"With a spoon?" John repeated.
Dean tilted his head to the side in frustration. "It's wood. You kill vampires with wood stakes. Thought it would kill a toilet monster, too."
John choked back a nervous laugh as he readjusted Sam on his hip. "Good... thinking."
Dean grinned.
~ ~
The next night, John gave Dean his first real knife.