Chapter 1: The Grocery Trip
Dean knew Sam hated thunderstorms. Of course it had to rain non-stop the last four days, with storms during three of them. Dean hated Seattle, he wished Dad would've chosen somewhere else to hunt. But he couldn't focus on that now, he had to try to keep Sammy from freaking out-the kid was buried under a mountain of blankets and was clearly trying to hide from the cacophonous roar of the thunderstorm splitting the evening sky. Cacophonous-where did he know that word from? Who knows, probably some old school a few states ago.
"Sammy," Dean walked over to the mountain, lifting up some of the blankets to see his four year old little brother curled into a ball with his eyes shut tight. They were red, he'd been crying. "Come on, it's just a storm." He sighed, sitting down and knowing that Sam would want to try to cuddle again. Dean didn't mind helping Sam feel safe, but he wasn't two anymore-he shouldn't be scared of storms.
"Dean, I don't like the storm. It's too loud and the lightning is too scary. I want it to stop."
"Well, I can't control the weather." Dean quipped, then looked down at his brother. "But I guess if you want to hug again I can do it." Sam's small face brightened as he came over to Dean's side and put his face against his stomach. "But seriously, Sammy, you're gonna have to get over this eventually." Dean stated, not loving the overly affectionate nature of the situation.
He silently sighed as he lay in the bed and started to rub Sam's back as the younger boy drifted off to sleep. Dean looked across the room to a wall clock. It was just past midnight. His father would be home in the morning according to what he'd said earlier. Then they'd finally leave Seattle and get somewhere where Sam didn't break down crying every night.
That morning the rain had stopped, but the clouds remained. The weather lady on television had said that the storms were over and that the rest of the week would be cloudy, but dry. This appeared to help Sammy finally calm down, so Dean decided he could throw on some cartoons to keep him busy and make them both breakfast. After flipping through a few channels Dean found some re-run of Scooby Doo and plopped Sam down in front of the TV. While he was laughing along to the cartoon dog's antics Dean searched the cabinets for food.
Dad normally stocked up whenever they got somewhere new, but this time he hadn't. Apparently the hunt was too important to wait so he simply left the old boxes and cans from the last place on the table and gave Dean money to order pizza or go shopping with. Well, it looked like Dean would have to go shopping soon if Dad didn't get back. The only food left was a can of raviolis and a half bag of Captain Crunch-with no milk. He sighed, pouring the ravioli into a bowl and putting it in the microwave on the kitchenette counter. After it heated he took it and the cereal and sat beside Sam.
"Hey Sammy, cereal or Chef Boyardee?" He held up the two options, momentarily distracting the younger boy from the television set.
"I don't want that. I want eggs and toast."
"Well we don't have eggs and toast. Besides, you know Dad says we aren't allowed to use the stove when he isn't here."
"I WANT EGGS AND TOAST." The younger brother repeated, much louder the second time. Dean had had enough.
"WE DON'T HAVE IT." He shouted back, "NOW EAT SOME CEREAL AND SHUT UP!" Dean tossed the cereal at Sam and huffed over to the table to eat by himself. He didn't care if the box had spilled, Sam would still eat it. He didn't have to clean it up…
Dean's thoughts were interrupted by crying as Sammy started to bawl. Sammy was sensitive and Dean knew it. He couldn't get mad at him for stupid stuff like this, even if he deserved it. "Sammy, come on…" Dean walked back over to Sam and sat down, reaching out an arm to try to comfort him. Sam swatted his hand away.
"No! You're mean and I don't want to have cereal!" Sam stated, looking at the mess on the floor from the spilled box. His face was bright red and his eyes were watering.
"Sammy come on, when Dad gets home we'll leave here and go somewhere else. Tomorrow we'll have eggs for breakfast-okay?" Dean was trying his best to be a nurturer, but he really was annoyed at the hissy fit his brother was throwing.
That seemed to calm Sam down a bit, and Dean felt some relief. After a few minutes it was as if the tantrum never happened, Sam was shoving tiny handfuls of cereal straight from the box to his mouth and seemed content enough. Dean looked up at the clock and saw it was a bit past nine, Dad should be home soon, his father was never late.
By three Dean was getting worried. His father was never late. He decided to try to page him. Dad had a pager with him for emergencies, and Dean had the number memorized. After using a chair to reach the telephone on the wall Dean punched out the number and waited for the call to connect. When it went through he punched in the return number and hung up. He wished his father had a cell phone so they could talk, but with the expense of owning one and the limited battery life it made more sense to have a pager.
After hanging up the phone Dean decided that he and Sam would have to go out to get more food. They'd finished everything for breakfast and Sammy was getting cranky without lunch. "Come on, we're going out to get some food. Get ready, I'm going to leave Dad a note." He told Sam as he sat down. Dean struggled with writing, he read fine, but he didn't like how the pencil felt in his hands. He could never seem to get the letters to look completely right and got tired after writing only a few sentences. He kept the note short:
Dad, Sam and I went to get food. Will be back soon.-Dean
He then wrote the date and time on the bottom, something his father told him he always had to do when they left notes for each other.
After hauling Sam out of the motel room and across the parking lot Dean looked around, trying to remember if he'd seen any grocery stores nearby. He thought there was one somewhere around here, but he didn't remember where. He'd have to pick a direction and guess. He chose left and followed the sidewalk as it led down the wide street. After about fifteen minutes they reached a small strip-mall with a supermarket.
"Thank God." He sighed, not wanting to have to admit he was wrong and turn around. He boosted Sam into a cart and grabbed the handle, having to reach up, and pushed the cart through the automatic doors. Inside the store was relatively busy-it was a Saturday, after all-and Dean didn't like all the strangers being so close to him without his Dad around. He pushed on, and after bypassing the produce department he stopped at the deli case and grabbed some sliced cheese and bologna.
"Dad gave us fifty bucks. We can't buy everything, but we can get a couple of things. What do we need?" Dean looked at Sam, who had grabbed a handful of twist-ties and was making stick figures to play with.
"I dunno. Dad always just gets whatever." Sam shrugged.
"Alright, well, whatever it is." Dean snarked, causing Sam to laugh slightly.
He pushed the cart through the aisles, grabbing a few cans here and there, as well as some snacks his dad usually didn't get-like Pringles and Lil' Debbies-and the cart was half full when he pulled into the checkout lane. Dean hoped he had enough money, he hadn't grabbed too many things but it would be embarrassing to have to put some things back on the shelf. When he got to the register and started unloading the woman checking them out smiled, "Helping Mom and Dad unload the cart while they grab a few things?"
"No. It's just us." Dean said, coldly. He hated being talked down to by grown-ups, especially ones that treated him like he was Sammy's age.
"Okay…" The woman seemed to react for a second before continuing to ring up the groceries. Dean wasn't sure what she felt, her emotions quickly hid under a veil that comes with decades of working in retail. A few minutes later she revealed that the total was $48.33. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, they had enough money. He took the two twenties and the ten out of his pocket to pay before a man stooped down next to him and Sam.
"Hey guys, where are your mom and dad?" The man was wearing a tie in addition to the store nametag, so Dean guessed he was in charge.
"Dad's at work and he told us to get a few things." Dean wasn't exactly lying-Dad was at work.
The man smiled, looking concerned. "Do you have a number to reach him at? We don't want you kids just on your own."
Dean rolled his eyes. No way in hell he was giving this guy his Dad's pager number. "We can handle ourselves. Mind your own business and leave us alone." Dean was getting mad and Sam was no longer distracted by his twist-ties.
"Dean, I'm hungry, can we go now?"
"Once this guy lets me pay we'll leave." Dean scowled-or at least tried to-causing the man to stand back up and leave. Dean gave the checkout woman the money, pocketed the change and pushed the cart out of the store. Screw them, he'd normally return the cart and carry the groceries, but if they were going to get nosy he could be rude and make them go on a goose chase for a shopping cart.