//This was thought up after I re-watched 'Tall Tales' (Season 2 of Supernatural). I always laugh when Dean and Sam fight on the bed because Sam is trying to get back his money XD.
So, wee!chesters and adult Winchesters all in one fic!
It's set in Season 1, hence it being 2005.
Disclaimer: Dean and Sam belong to Eric Kripke. I just like to pretend that they're mine XP.//
Taller Than You!
Or, why Dean logic is bad logic.
Somewhere in the USA, 2005...
Sam and Dean are walking down a street in some small town in some large state in the USA when Dean realizes something. He realizes something hugely, massively, crazily important. This makes him freeze in the middle of the street and stare at Sam. Or, to be precise, he stares up at Sam. This makes Sam stop and looks at Dean. Or, to be precise, he looks down at Dean.
"Dude," Dean begins slowly, scrutinising him carefully.
"What?" Sam is confused and raises at eyebrow at his serious expression.
"Dude!" He repeats. His jaw hangs open and his eyes look like they're gonna pop out of their sockets like in those cartoons the two of them used to watch when they were kids.
"What? What, Dean?" Sam is beginning to panic. Had something happened? What was wong?
"Sonofabitch! You're taller than me!" Dean finally whines. He even looks a little annoyed. Sam almost chokes on nothing.
"Is that it?" He scoffs, thinking that there is something definitely wrong with his brother. "My, my...nothing gets past you, Dean Winchester." He sighs and wants to bang his head against a desk in half amusement and half exasperation but instead, he begins to walk, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Sam!" Dean snaps, catching up with him in a few strides. "Little brother?!"
"And?"
"And?!" Dean looks utterly mortified. "It's not right!"
"Dean, define 'right'." At that moment, Sam decides that Dean logic is bad logic.
Boston, Massachusetts, Motel 6, 1989...
"Deaaa-aaan! Gimme it back, you big, fat jerk!" Six year old Sam Winchester huffs, straining on his tip toes but he's at least a foot shorter than Dean and even more so when his arm is stretched above Sam. He pouts his annoyance and grabs at the toy car held above his head, glaring up at his big brother's grinning face.
Bitch, Dean thinks but won't say it out loud. He can't have Sam bitchi- blabbing to Dad. He raises his arm higher, wanting to burst out into laughter. "See it as payback, short stack! Told ya not to mess with my stuff!"
Sam growls, narrowing his eyes further but, somehow, it has more of an effect when Dad does it. "I didn't touch it!" He protests, making a leap for Dean's hand yet again and failing, yet again.
"Liar, liar, pants on fi-" Dean is cut off when Sam does something he doesn't expect.
He tackles him right onto the bed.
Dean feels the air going out of him as forty six pounds of Sammy Winchester launches himself at him. Seems that Dad's training hasn't gone to waste after all.
"Give it back!! Or I'm tellin'!" Sam screams. He grabs and twists Dean's wrist with more skill than any normal six year old kid should have. Of course, they are far from normal. Calling the Winchesters 'normal' is a huge understatement. Dean once told Sam that 'normal' is overrated which is why they're not.
Dean winces at the sudden pain that surges through his arm but won't let go of the car. "Not until you admit that you broke it!" He elbows Sam in the ribs, causing him to yelp and clutch his middle.
"But. I. Didn't. Do. Anything. Deaaaan!!"
The war goes on for five more minutes until Dean sees tears welling up in his brother's eyes and his yells turn to unsteady pleads. Sam slowly retreats, sliding off the bed. His back is turned on him but Dean can see Sam wiping furiously at his eyes. Worst of all is the small, puppyish choking noises coming from his throat as he tries to force down the sobs. "Sammy?" He approaches cautiously, just in case Sam's playing with him. But he's not.
"Go 'way, Dean, you meanie!" Sam sniffles and wipes his face with the back of his sleeve. He tries to be brave, brave like his Daddy but the bruise on his head hurts and there's a horrible lump coming up and his muscles are sore and he's tired.
Then Dean does something Sam doesn't expect. He puts an arm around him, pulling him into an awkward hug and places the small car in Sam's equally small palm. For a minute, Sam squirms around but he finally stills when he realizes that he won't be going anywhere soon. "Whaddya say about some candy, squirt? I saw some in the vending machine outside." Sam's crying stops almost immediately. He understands that this is his big brother's way of saying 'Sorry'. He twists around in Dean's arms, wide-eyes sparkling, His puppy-eyes hit Dean full force and he can't help but smile.
"Reaaaally?" His voice sounds mesmerized and full of wonder. "Y'do that, Deanie?"
"Sure thing, Sammy. You're my lil' bro. I gotta take care you ya." I gotta take care of ya for Dad. And for Mom.
He rummages around in his pockets and finds that he has just enough spare change. "C'mon, little dude." He takes Sam's hand and they both go off to hunt down some candy. All thoughts about the broken cassette and the bruises are put behind them.
Minutes later, and the two boys are perched on the edge of the bed that had previously been a battleground. Dean brings out the Snickers bar from his pocket and hands it to Sam. Sam doesn't take it. Instead, he looks at the bar then up to Dean, confused. "What 'bout you? No candy for you?" Dean shakes his head.
"It's all yours."
"Na ah." Sam scowls and snaps the bar in half. "Sneakers is your favourite! We gotta share!"
"It's 'Snickers', Sammy." Dean chuckles and takes his half, a warm feeling in his heart. "Thanks."
As they chew their sweet treats, content with the world for once, Sam suddenly announces, "One day, I'm gonna be tallerer than you!" Dean is amused and grins good-naturedly. He ruffles Sam's mop of chocolate-brown locks.
"Whatever. You're always gonna be my little brother, no matter what."