Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hasperkynipples) wrote2010-06-21 11:35 pm
hasperkynipples) wrote2010-06-21 11:35 pm
[fiction] How Much is that Puppy in the Window?
[Set in canonish. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wentdwnthatroad used with love to make up for the prompt of lame. (Dean’s opinion, not mine.)]
Dad had told them to go occupy themselves.
He gave them money to get ice cream from the ice cream truck, and told them to go out and play on their own. At eight years-old, Dean had better things to do than babysit Sammy, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was stuck while Dad was off doing whatever it was he was doing, and he wasn’t fond of it. Plus, with Sammy around, he had less money for ice cream so he was stuck with a stupid popsicle instead of the ice cream fudge bar.
Lame.
They had returned to Pastor Jim’s after getting the ice cream, and Sammy was starting to get sticky from his, but Dad wasn’t done yet. He had tossed the bag of toys and books that they kept for car rides at the boys, and told them to head outside, leaving them alone again. Dean was really starting to get sick of babysitting Sammy.
“Vrrrrrr vrrrrrrroooooom vrrrrrrrrrroooooooooooom,” Sam said to himself, staying sprawled on top of one of the sturdier card tables that one of the church ladies left out near the side of the road. He had pouted his way into getting a second turn with the Matchbox cars, which left Dean with the legal pad and the markers. He was drumming along to one of Dad’s songs on the edge of the pad, before glancing around to the different people that were in the area.
School was out so there were a few kids out along the street with lemonade and all different kinds of stuff. There were a few yard sales, where people were coming over and walking away with stuff that they had paid for. Apparently, if you put stuff up for sale on the side of the road, people were willing to pay a lot of money for it, and fast. Each item, had its own kind of price tag and sign. He considered for a moment, before starting to write in big letters across the front of the paper.
“Stay still, Sammy.”
“Whatcha doin’, Dean?” Sammy sighed, squirming under his hand as Dean tried to get him to hold still.
“Nothing, Sammy, just stay still.” His brother eventually stopped squirming, and Dean couldn’t help but smirk. He pulled out the scotch tape out of the bag, taping the sign down on Sammy’s shirt, and then leaning back in his chair with a smirk. Now, all he had to do was wait.
He wound up waiting a while.
It wasn’t until Pastor Jim came out to get them for dinner that Dean decided it was a lost cause. Sammy was still playing with the cars on his stomach, and he hadn’t moved from that spot since it started. Dean was looking a little depressed, and he didn’t look up until he heard Pastor Jim’s voice behind him.
“Everything alright, Dean?”
Dean’s head turned around, and he sighed heavily. “It’s not working.”
“What isn’t working?”
Dean pointed to where Sammy was laying, and Pastor Jim looked confused for a moment, before moving around to the front of the table and looking at the sign. When he saw what it said, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Dean a look.
“For Sale: One brother … fifty dollars?”
Dean tried his best innocent look. “I figured that since he’s a person he should go for a lot of money. Fifty dollars is a lot of money.”
Pastor Jim looked like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh, or scold Dean, but in the end he settled for laughing. “You can’t sell your brother, Dean.”
“Why not?” he sighed, giving a bit of a pout. “He’s so annoying and he just gets in the way all the time. There has to be someone who wants him more than I do.” Never mind the fact that he always had to share everything with Sammy, including Dad’s attention
Pastor Jim rubbed his chin slowly as he reached for the sign and pulled it off Sam. “You can’t sell your brother, because he’s a gift.”
Now Dean was confused. “Dad takes gifts back for money all the time.” Especially when they needed food. Which sucked when it came to Dean losing out on the awesome Transformer figures he had gotten for Christmas from the Malone family that they stayed with.
“Yes, but Sam is a gift from God. And God doesn’t have a return policy.” He gave Dean a bit of a smirk. “Don’t you think it would be a little lonely on the road without Sam around?”
… Dean hadn’t thought of that. He’d just been thinking of getting rid of Sammy. He hadn’t been thinking of what would happen once Sammy was gone. “I guess. But—”
“What’s it that your dad always tells you about Sam, Dean?”
“That I have to look out for him,” Dean replied. “I gotta protect him.” He looked down a bit at that, remembering the incident with the Shtriga last month. “I’m not very good at it.”
“Being a protector isn’t an easy thing,” Pastor Jim replied, before placing a hand on top of his head. “But it’s a very special job, that not many people get to do. Now, you love your brother, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Sometimes.”
He smirked. “Well, that’s the first big step. After that, everything else is easy.” He placed his hand on his shoulder, before glancing over. “Sam is going to grow up, and he’s going to be important, Dean, just like you are. You both are going to save a lot of people. But Sammy can’t do that unless you’re there to protect him. You’re going to be heroes, Dean.” He glanced over at Sam again, and let Dean follow his eyes. “Do you think you can help him do that?”
It was a big job. An important job. Dean could hear it in the way that Pastor Jim was saying it, and the way he said it made it seem like it was bigger than hunting, bigger than anything he had ever done before. But then again, Dean was only eight. He liked the idea of being important, both him and Sammy.
“And I can’t do it without him?”
“Nope,” he said softly. “This definitely isn’t something you can do alone.”
“BOYS!”
Dad’s voice came from the door of the church, and Pastor Jim reached out, pulling the sign off Sam’s back and crumpling it in the back of his hand, holding it behind his back. He gave Dean a wink, before nodding back towards his father. Dad was coming closer, and Dean did his best to try not to panic.
“Dean, what’re you doing that close to the road?” he sighed, picking Sammy up off the table, and gesturing for Dean to gather the toys.
“Nothing, sir,” he replied automatically. “Just talkin’ to Pastor Jim.”
“Talkin’ to who?”
“John, the boys alright?” Pastor Jim poked his head out of rectory door, and Dean frowned.
“How’d he get over there so fast?”
Dad suddenly looked panicked for a reason that Dean didn’t know why. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and started nudging him back towards the rectory. “C’mon, boys. Let’s get inside.”
“Yessir.”
“Dad, how much is fifty dollars?”
“It’s a lot, Sammy,” Dad replied as they continued to walk back. “Why?”
“Cuz that’s how much Dean tried to sell me for.”
“He WHAT?”
“Sammy,” Dean whined, looking up at his father with wide eyes. Great. Now he was in trouble.
1261 words
wentdwnthatroad used with love to make up for the prompt of lame. (Dean’s opinion, not mine.)]Dad had told them to go occupy themselves.
He gave them money to get ice cream from the ice cream truck, and told them to go out and play on their own. At eight years-old, Dean had better things to do than babysit Sammy, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was stuck while Dad was off doing whatever it was he was doing, and he wasn’t fond of it. Plus, with Sammy around, he had less money for ice cream so he was stuck with a stupid popsicle instead of the ice cream fudge bar.
Lame.
They had returned to Pastor Jim’s after getting the ice cream, and Sammy was starting to get sticky from his, but Dad wasn’t done yet. He had tossed the bag of toys and books that they kept for car rides at the boys, and told them to head outside, leaving them alone again. Dean was really starting to get sick of babysitting Sammy.
“Vrrrrrr vrrrrrrroooooom vrrrrrrrrrroooooooooooom,” Sam said to himself, staying sprawled on top of one of the sturdier card tables that one of the church ladies left out near the side of the road. He had pouted his way into getting a second turn with the Matchbox cars, which left Dean with the legal pad and the markers. He was drumming along to one of Dad’s songs on the edge of the pad, before glancing around to the different people that were in the area.
School was out so there were a few kids out along the street with lemonade and all different kinds of stuff. There were a few yard sales, where people were coming over and walking away with stuff that they had paid for. Apparently, if you put stuff up for sale on the side of the road, people were willing to pay a lot of money for it, and fast. Each item, had its own kind of price tag and sign. He considered for a moment, before starting to write in big letters across the front of the paper.
“Stay still, Sammy.”
“Whatcha doin’, Dean?” Sammy sighed, squirming under his hand as Dean tried to get him to hold still.
“Nothing, Sammy, just stay still.” His brother eventually stopped squirming, and Dean couldn’t help but smirk. He pulled out the scotch tape out of the bag, taping the sign down on Sammy’s shirt, and then leaning back in his chair with a smirk. Now, all he had to do was wait.
He wound up waiting a while.
It wasn’t until Pastor Jim came out to get them for dinner that Dean decided it was a lost cause. Sammy was still playing with the cars on his stomach, and he hadn’t moved from that spot since it started. Dean was looking a little depressed, and he didn’t look up until he heard Pastor Jim’s voice behind him.
“Everything alright, Dean?”
Dean’s head turned around, and he sighed heavily. “It’s not working.”
“What isn’t working?”
Dean pointed to where Sammy was laying, and Pastor Jim looked confused for a moment, before moving around to the front of the table and looking at the sign. When he saw what it said, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Dean a look.
“For Sale: One brother … fifty dollars?”
Dean tried his best innocent look. “I figured that since he’s a person he should go for a lot of money. Fifty dollars is a lot of money.”
Pastor Jim looked like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to laugh, or scold Dean, but in the end he settled for laughing. “You can’t sell your brother, Dean.”
“Why not?” he sighed, giving a bit of a pout. “He’s so annoying and he just gets in the way all the time. There has to be someone who wants him more than I do.” Never mind the fact that he always had to share everything with Sammy, including Dad’s attention
Pastor Jim rubbed his chin slowly as he reached for the sign and pulled it off Sam. “You can’t sell your brother, because he’s a gift.”
Now Dean was confused. “Dad takes gifts back for money all the time.” Especially when they needed food. Which sucked when it came to Dean losing out on the awesome Transformer figures he had gotten for Christmas from the Malone family that they stayed with.
“Yes, but Sam is a gift from God. And God doesn’t have a return policy.” He gave Dean a bit of a smirk. “Don’t you think it would be a little lonely on the road without Sam around?”
… Dean hadn’t thought of that. He’d just been thinking of getting rid of Sammy. He hadn’t been thinking of what would happen once Sammy was gone. “I guess. But—”
“What’s it that your dad always tells you about Sam, Dean?”
“That I have to look out for him,” Dean replied. “I gotta protect him.” He looked down a bit at that, remembering the incident with the Shtriga last month. “I’m not very good at it.”
“Being a protector isn’t an easy thing,” Pastor Jim replied, before placing a hand on top of his head. “But it’s a very special job, that not many people get to do. Now, you love your brother, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Sometimes.”
He smirked. “Well, that’s the first big step. After that, everything else is easy.” He placed his hand on his shoulder, before glancing over. “Sam is going to grow up, and he’s going to be important, Dean, just like you are. You both are going to save a lot of people. But Sammy can’t do that unless you’re there to protect him. You’re going to be heroes, Dean.” He glanced over at Sam again, and let Dean follow his eyes. “Do you think you can help him do that?”
It was a big job. An important job. Dean could hear it in the way that Pastor Jim was saying it, and the way he said it made it seem like it was bigger than hunting, bigger than anything he had ever done before. But then again, Dean was only eight. He liked the idea of being important, both him and Sammy.
“And I can’t do it without him?”
“Nope,” he said softly. “This definitely isn’t something you can do alone.”
“BOYS!”
Dad’s voice came from the door of the church, and Pastor Jim reached out, pulling the sign off Sam’s back and crumpling it in the back of his hand, holding it behind his back. He gave Dean a wink, before nodding back towards his father. Dad was coming closer, and Dean did his best to try not to panic.
“Dean, what’re you doing that close to the road?” he sighed, picking Sammy up off the table, and gesturing for Dean to gather the toys.
“Nothing, sir,” he replied automatically. “Just talkin’ to Pastor Jim.”
“Talkin’ to who?”
“John, the boys alright?” Pastor Jim poked his head out of rectory door, and Dean frowned.
“How’d he get over there so fast?”
Dad suddenly looked panicked for a reason that Dean didn’t know why. He placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and started nudging him back towards the rectory. “C’mon, boys. Let’s get inside.”
“Yessir.”
“Dad, how much is fifty dollars?”
“It’s a lot, Sammy,” Dad replied as they continued to walk back. “Why?”
“Cuz that’s how much Dean tried to sell me for.”
“He WHAT?”
“Sammy,” Dean whined, looking up at his father with wide eyes. Great. Now he was in trouble.
1261 words