June 30th, 1996

It was finally here. That special time of the month for the Winchesters. Every other part of the month they were hunting werewolves and wendigo, but no, not this time. This part of the month was special for them.

It was the time of the month where Sam found himself in front of the bathroom mirror, his father behind him with scissors, Dean beside him pleading, and there was usually a lot of yelling.

"Dad, I don't want my hair cut!" Sam cried out, just like he did every time they found themselves in this spot.

"Come on, dad, who cares how long his hair is?" Dean asked, trying to reason with his father. At seventeen, the eldest son couldn't find himself caring about the thirteen year old's hair as much as his father did.

"When the waitress at the diner calls my son a ma'am, I care," John said. "Hold your brother so I won't accidentally cut him with all this struggling," the man ordered. Sam only became more upset.

"No no no no no!" Sam protested. He took his hands and pressed them onto his hair in order to shield it from the evil weapon that was scissors. John winchester wasn't going to get his hair this time. Not like he had done all the other times. With Dean helping, Sam was sure he would get to keep his hair the way he liked it. It wasn't even that long, just brushing his shoulders a bit.

"I don't care if you don't want it cut, Sam, but you're getting it cut!" John shouted. "If it were up to me, you'd have hair like your brother." Thankfully, it wasn't up to him. When Sam was getting his first haircut as a four year old, he had suggested Dean's haircut, where the eldest son had objected, as the youngest loved his hair too much. Dean was the only reason Sam wasn't practically bald. "Hair gets in the way of your eyes and your face, Sam. It's not good for hunting, and I'm going to cut it."

"Dean, please!" Sam pleaded for his older brother to intervene.

"Come on, dad, the kid doesn't want his hair cut," Dean said. John sighed and placed the scissors down on the bathroom counter.

"Fine, have it your way," the man said as he was walking out. Sam's bliss of having his hair didn't last long, as the next time Dean went out for supplies, Sam was held down and had his hair cut. Dean was pissed with his father for a few days, and Sam was angry for a lot longer. He couldn't wait until he could do what he wanted with his hair.

February 6th, 2015

Sam brushed his bangs over his eyes for the millionth time as he read through one of the many journals in the bat-cave. Dean was sitting right across from him at the table, and the younger of the two could already feel the bitchface of all bitchfaces burning into him.

"What?" he finally asked, looking up at his older brother.

"Can you just let me cut your fucking hair?" Dean asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can't see through your damn hair, Sam!" Dean shouted. "You need a haircut."

"I don't need a haircut," Sam said. "There's nothing wrong with my hair."

"You can't see through it. One of these days we're gonna be on a hunt, and you're not gonna be able to see the damn monster," Dean responded.

"You sound like dad."

"Maybe I'm maturing."

"Or becoming an asshole."

"Are you calling dad an asshole?" Dean asked.

"I'm just saying that you sound like he did."

"Well, it looks girly."

"Says the one who cries every season year."

"That's a lie."

"Yeah, okay." Then watch the DVD's.

"Lemme see the scissors."

"No."

"Sam! Give me the damn scissors!"

"You're not cutting my hair! I can do what I want now, I'm old enough!"

"Fuck me, fine!"

Yeah, I don't really know what this is, I just got the idea to write it from a Supernatural Fansong, 'Let It Grow' watch?v=XtSGePkjuD8