[TWP] Seven times it snowed

[Not binding on any canon muses mentioned herein.]

i.

“SNOW!”

The newly three year-old Dean Winchester had barely been up five minutes before he looked out his window and saw the inches of white stuff covering the lawn in front of his house. It was everywhere, blanketing everything across the neighborhood, and Dean’s eyes went wide in amazement as his nose pressed up against the glass of the window, taking it all in and wondering how he got to be this lucky.

Then he asked himself what he was doing there, staring at the snow from inside the house, when it was clearly so much better to be outside.

With that, he bolted, taking off down the stairs from his room and heading right for the front door of the house. When he hit the bottom of the stairs he stepped on the pant leg of his pajama pants on accident, lost the traction between his feet and the hardwood floors and the leg slid out from under him, sending him flying onto his side with a loud BANG!

“Dean?”

Dean paid no mind to his mother’s voice, or how much that slam had hurt, and just scrambled up onto his feet, bounding for the door. He got it open as quickly as he could, before running out into the snow: bare feet, PJs and all.

It was cold. The chill ran right through his feet and up through his body but he didn’t care. He just giggled at the shivers that ran through him and headed full on head first into the drifts, soaking himself to the skin faster than Mary probably had anticipated, and he didn’t stop until he felt the jerk of his body being picked up and hauled into the air.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, little man?”

“It’s snowed,” Dean grinned up at his mother as she pulled him in closer. He was finally starting to feel the cold, and his little body shivered violently against his mother’s hold, teeth chattering in the breeze. “On my birthday. It snowed for me.” He paused for a moment, before looking up at her. “How did they know what I wanted?”

“I’ve got an angel hotline,” Mary said with a teasing smirk. “I made sure they got you just what you wanted.”

Dean practically beamed at the woman holding him, reaching up to throw her arms around her neck tightly. “Best birthday ever!”

( *** )

3974 words

In Which Alastair makes a Power Play

[Cowritten with likely_evil. Alastair is an NPC. Set after THIS.]

Breaking Dean Winchester was taking longer than he thought it would. Ruby, surprisingly, was doing a rather impressive job of keeping his head on his shoulders and well, that just wasn't working. Not at all. Alastair had plans for his dear old friend Dean, and he wasn't going to let a bunch of birds ruin that for him. He would get Dean back, in one capacity or another, and he had to say, the idea of him as a human, going back on everything he ever fought against was rather -- appealing. Destroying what the angels thought he was going to be, what they were hoping he'd become -- that had its perks. And that was why he'd been taking things slow.

Besides, he hadn't been topside since Poland, '43. If he was going to have to spend time above ground, he might as well enjoy it.

He had to admit, it'd set him back a bit with Delilah. He hadn't expected Dean to move that quickly, and it gave the poor sap a bit of hope as opposed to tearing him down even more, but Alastair was finally ready to move in for the kill, especially with the lovely opportunity Agent 99 had presented him with. Dean slipped, and he slipped in a big way. Now was the time to go for the money shot. Now was the time to strike him where it was going to hurt the most, and finally let the demon Dean had become loose on the world.

He made his way through the apartment building quietly, before knocking lightly on the door to the room where he knew Sam was, and waited quietly, hands in his pockets. This would be like taking candy from a baby.

( *** )