Title: Two Boys and a Fish
Author: Saberivojo
Characters: Sam and Dean
Rating: Gen, some potty mouth
Summary: Wee!chesters. Late summer at Pastor Jim's. Dad's on a hunt, Dean is stuck with Sam.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not getting paid. Just like playing with the boys.
Dean shuffled through the field of late summer grass kicking forward and sideways with his feet in a sweeping motion. Grasshoppers sprang ahead of him.
He didn't care.
Behind him he could hear Sammy. Sammy wasn't a fraidy cat, but the grass was almost waist high on Dean, which put it at eye level for Sam. He was probably getting bugs in his hair.
He didn't care about that either.
"Leave me alone, Sam." Dean didn't bother to stop and turn.
Sam didn't leave.
Another vicious kick sent a rabbit bounding off in search of a less dangerous field.
Rabbits were stupid anyway. Nothin' but food for bigger, badder things.
Dean's hand itched to reach down and grab a stone throw it in the direction of the retreating brown form or maybe Sam.
He saw it in a movie once, the boy throwing stones at a confused dog. "Go away, boy. I don't love you. I don't need you."
Sappy ass movie that Sam just had to watch. Dog died in the end.
Dean stopped. The tree line was dark and welcoming compared to the blazing heat of the field.
It occurred to Dean that Dad would probably be pissed if he wandered off into the woods. Woods and Winchesters usually mean only one of two things. Either they were training to hunt something nasty or they were hunting something nasty. Even at 11, Dean realized that.
To make matters worse, Sam was still tagging along, maybe twenty feet back. Wary of Dean and his mood but not willing to abandon him.
"Sam!" Dean turned and glared at his brother. "Go, home!"
Sam offered that puzzled puppy dog stare but refused to move. "I don't wanna go back by myself, plus Pastor Jim said to stay with you."
Dean snorted. "Pastor Jim isn't gonna care. Just tell him I was boring you or something. Get lost."
Sam seemed to consider Dean's words. Huffed himself up and moved a little closer into Dean's space.
"Dad told me to stay with you."
"Well, Dad isn't here is he?" The words felt sinful to Dean. Wrong.
"Listen, squirt. Beat it. I got shit to do and it doesn't include you."
Sam planted his feet, crossed his arms and plain refused to move. It was then Dean realized he had a problem.
When Sam decided he was staying or going or anything for that matter, it was impossible to get him to change his mind.
There was one of two options, let Sam come or beat the shit out of him. As much as Dean's fist yearned to hit something, Sam would fight back and there could be a bloody nose, or a black eye and Pastor Jim would ask and then Dad would know and shit…Dean took a deep breath.
"C'mon shithead. Suit yourself."
Sam eyed Dean with a squint. Dean wasn't sure if it was the bright sunlight or a glare. Either way, it didn't matter.
"We goin' in the woods?" Sam asked as he followed Dean, still a respectful 10 feet behind.
"Yup."
Sam looked worried, but Dean figured he could stay or go…whatever and when with faced with leaving Dean, Dean knew Sam would follow.
There was no gradual movement into the dark. It was an abrupt change from the bright light of the field to the heavily wooded forest. Dean breathed deep, it was at least ten degrees cooler and the meadow smells quickly evaporated. Suddenly it was just the scent of old forest and leaves and the deep earthy smell that Dean sometimes associated with Dad.
He moved off briskly, still ignoring Sam. Just because Sam was there, it did not mean he would have to acknowledge him. So he didn't.
Dad was off hunting and Dean was babysitting. Dean was tough and strong and he had proved to his father that he could help. Let Pastor Jim watch the little freak. It crossed Dean's mind that he should try to figure it all out. Why he was so pissed. He really didn't want to figure it out, he just wanted to let it ride. Feel the anger and pissiness just roll over him. He kicked an old log for good measure but got nothing from it except a sharp pain in his sneaker-covered foot.
Damn cheap ass sneakers. Can't even kick anything.
There was a path of sorts and he followed it. Deer trail probably. But it was kind of clear and there were only patches where he had to push through some undergrowth to get to the other side. Till he hit the big tree that must have recently fallen. It intersected the path and was so huge that going around could be problematic. Going under wouldn't work, because the damn thing was flattened to the ground. Going over it might be kind of fun, sort of like climbing a tree but from a different angle.
Dean studied his dilemma. Without thinking he turned to Sam.
"Whatcha think, Sammy?"
It was then he realized that Sam was gone.
"Shit!" Dean spun around quickly, taking a brief overview of the situation. Sam was nowhere in his field of vision. His heart dropped and panic, real honest to God panic set in.
"SAMMY!" Dean bellowed loud and listened for Sam's reply. There was nothing but the regular forest sounds. That gave Dean some comfort. Big, bad supernatural shit tended to annoy regular animals and send them off into hiding.
He clomped back a little down the trail. "SAM!" Terror gripped him almost as quickly as anger. Bright and sharp. Little fucker. Why couldn't he just go home. He stopped again. Listened. Far off and to his right he could hear, an impossibly long way away the sound of Sam. Sam's voice was faint but clear. He didn't sound upset or worried.
Then the anger hit full blast. He should be worried. He should be so very worried. Because Dean was gonna kick his little seven year old ass.
Dean trotted toward the sound of Sam.
"Dean, Dean over here!" Sam's voice was breathless with excitement, but low. Dean figured he was gonna be breathless with pain when he got a hold of him.
Dean powered through the thick brush like it wasn't there.
"SHHHHHHH."
Sam was laying face down in the mud of a quick running stream with his head dangling over the edge.
"Sam," Sharp and crisp with as much authority as his 11 year old voice could muster.
Sam turned toward Dean without so much as an eye blink. "SSHHHHHH. Come look. Get down low."
Dean was pissed but Sam didn't seem in the least concerned, he just gestured quietly to his brother.
With a humpff Dean sidled up next to Sam and soon found himself face down on the bank of the stream. There in the cool water two feet down was one of the largest rainbow trout Dean had ever seen.
It gently moved its tail against the current, but seemed content to simply stay where it was. How it did not notice two heads peering over it into the water was impossible to say. Unless it was so big, and so old, that it had long since decided in its fishy brain that two boys on a streambed were no threat.
"Isn't he a beaut?" Sam's eyes didn't drift from the fish. Mesmerized by its size and the color. The fish swam a little, flashing the dark pink along its side and a quick light blue on its belly, and then it settled again. If Dean didn't know any better the damn thing was showing off.
Dean racked his brain, nowhere did he ever hear of an evil supernatural trout, so he figured it was just a regular old trout, despite it's huge size.
"Yeah, it's a big one all right." Dean gently trailed his fingers into the water. The big fish just floated against the current with only an occasional fin movement to suggest it was alive.
Dean turned to Sam. Spoke low and quiet. Something about the forest and the fish made him think he should.
"Sam, why'd you run off like that? "
Sam kept his face down at the stream. "Didn't run. Just walked away. You were mad and I didn't want to make you madder so I figured I would explore a little." Sam reached down to mimic his brother's gentle trail of fingers into the stream.
"Sam…" Sam turned to look at Dean. He was just a little kid. An annoying little kid, but the shit he didn't know, he didn't need to know. "I'm sorry, dude. I was just in a bad mood. I dunno…" He gently jostled his brother's shoulder. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. You didn't do anything."
"S'okay, Dean. "
"What do you think about us coming back here again. Maybe make this our special fishing hole or something?" It sounded kind of lame, but Sam liked shit like that.
"Nah, we can come back alright, but I don't want ta fish here."
"You love trout, Sammy. Why not?"
"Cause this is where this big guy lives, it's his home. Maybe we could try upstream or downstream. But not here. Here is for watchin'" He dipped his fingers in the water again, watching as the ripples quickly disappeared into the quick running water.
"A fishin' hole that you can't fish in? That sounds weird, even for you."
Sam spoke with infinite patience. He spoke to Dean like he was talking to a toddler. "It's not a fishin' hole, Dean. It's a fish watchin' hole. Totally different."
Dean looked at Sam. A fish watchin' hole. He shook his head. Only Sammy could come up with that. No one would believe him if he tried to explain it.
Dean nudged Sam again. "C'mon, squirt, lets head on back before Pastor Jim sends out a search party."
"Kay." Sam dropped his head back to the water, tentatively brushed the surface of the stream. "Seeya."
Dean stood brushed the mud and leaves off of both he and Sam and then threw his arm around Sam's neck and shoulders. It was not quite a hug, Dean didn't really do hugs but it was close.
"Don't leave like that again, Sammy." Dean held on a little longer than he wanted, almost crossing into girl territory and that just plain was not right. But in that moment when he thought he lost Sam, he thought he had lost everything.
He was not planning on ever letting that happen again.