Okay, yesterday I posted a sad little Sammy Weechester story. To make it up to him, here comes happy Sammy. Thanks to Amberdreams for the prompt word "post"!
OOOOOOOOOO
HAPPY NUMBER FIVE
"Are you sure Dad'll come?"
"Of course he'll come!"
"He didn't come last year." Sam's voice was uncertain.
"Well, turning five is special, kiddo," Dean said stoutly. "He'll come."
"Maybe he'll just send a card again."
Sam ran to the window and peeked outside again. Dean didn't tell him that the postman had already been by that day. No card.
"You want some cake, Sammy?"
It was really just a few three-day-old cupcakes smooshed together in the bottom of an old pie pan, with a can of chocolate icing slathered all over the top. But it's still cake-like and by God it counted.
"No, thanks, Dean. Let's wait for Dad."
With a last longing glance out the window, Sam sat down on the floor in front of the t.v. and turned on afternoon cartoons.
Sighing, Dean stuck the cake into the fridge and then threw himself down on the couch, staring glumly at the t.v.
OOOOOO
Sam was asleep on the couch, covered by a blanket pulled from the bed. Dean sat beside him, though he'd spent much of the last couple of hours running back and forth to the window every time he heard the sound of an engine.
Would their father show up? Or was he going to have to figure out some really good bullshit excuse to tell his baby brother? Dean spent a grim moment contemplating how that would play out.
His stomach growled but he ignored it. There wasn't much left in the fridge besides the damned cake. He'd been trying to spread their money out, make it last till their dad got back, so there was only some bread and bologna. That and a little bit of milk and the Lucky Charms in the cupboard was it.
If Dad didn't make it back today, or tomorrow, he'd have to spend the last of their money. Better to hold off, wait until tomorrow to eat.
Sam stirred restlessly and Dean ran a comforting hand over his back, smiling when the little boy snuffled contentedly.
Dean's head jerked up when he heard the sound of another engine out front, this time a familiar throaty growl, followed by a double toot on a car horn.
Almost dizzy with relief, Dean ran to the window and looked outside, grinning widely when he saw the black car pulling up outside. "Sammy!' he shouted joyously. "Dad's here!"
Sam jerked awake, eyes sleepy and startled. He didn't even have time to sit up before their dad appeared in the doorway, arms full of chocolate cake, a paper sack full of groceries with a carton of ice cream sticking out the top, and a huge present, clumsily wrapped.
"Hey, boys!" John's smile lit up the room. "Happy number five, Sammy!"
"Daddy!"
OOOOOOOOOO
Just because I have some serious daddy issues doesn't mean our boys should have to pay for it. Yeah, yeah, John wasn't the best father. Hell, he was hardly any father at all. A leader, yes, but after a certain point in their lives, not a father.
However, I feel the need to write a series of stories where John is not a dick. I want the boys to smile.
They won't be gathered under a certain title and certain won't need much of an explanation. It'll be pretty obvious. John will be busy not being a dick.