Dinner and a Movie – SN oneshot.
by: sifi
Disclaimed: yew betcha.
Loved: Yah
OOooOO
"Please Dean?" Sam tugged on the back of his shirt again.
"I said NO Sam, now quit asking!"
"Pleeeeeeeeaaase? He's a teddy bear!"
"No!" Dean huffed shaking his head and wondering how they'd managed to fill an entire sink with so many dishes in just one little Saturday.
"I'll do dishes," Sam tried to bargain making Dean smile.
At just past his fourth birthday, Dean knew Sam couldn't even see the bottom of the sink yet unless he was standing on a chair, and the chairs in this particular apartment were the kind that swiveled so no dice, not this time.
"For a week..." Sam added sensing he was close to getting his big brother to crack.
"That's not much of a bargain since we don't do dishes but maybe twice a week Sam..." Dean cracked making sure to keep his back to his little brother, he had to keep his smile hidden.
The youngest Winchester looked around the place, everything looked as it always did, socks, clothes and underwear lay wherever it'd been dropped, Dean's school books and homework folder were spread out on the coffee table, and in the bedroom, between the beds the spreads were draped to form a wobbly Saturday fort in which they'd spent the morning pretending to be pirates on the open seas.
"I'lllllllll," he drawled looking for something that would convince his big brother, the room was too big to clean up all on his own, he knew he couldn't do Dean's homework and everything else looked pointless. Frustrated he stomped his foot making the older boy smile.
"IF I let you... IF!..." Dean started drawing his little brother to his side with an expectant grin and hopeful shining eyes pinned to his jade green ones, "You have to promise that if you get scared, you won't wake me up..." he held out his finger.
"Deal!" Sam pranced from foot to foot then dodged to the tv set before turning around and grabbing Dean's shirt again, "Hey Dean?"
"Yeah runt?" he looked down into those big blue greens he couldn't deny anything and watched his little brother worry his lower lip.
"If I get scared...can I? Can I... still... you know... crawl in?" he asked.
The elder brother pursed his lips and looked upward as if contemplating the question. He watched expectation turn to uncertainty, then move into the beginnings of lip trembling fear as Sam began to think he'd be denied the security he always knew was just across the room.
Dean scooped out a handful of soapsuds, swirling them into a high pyramid in his palm before placing them atop his little brother's brown wavy mop, "Long as you don't wake me up..." he nodded.
"Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!" Sam grinned with a hop and threw his arms around Dean's waist, "You're the bestest big brother EVER!" he praised before capering off to the tv and racing the remote to the stolen cable channel that had promised to air the movie uncut.
OOooOO
Sammy's hushed voice didn't even draw a glance from Dean who sat in the corner of the couch with his eyes glued to the television. A bag of chips sat in his lap, a tattered puffy couch pillow on his right and his little brother curled snugly to his ribcage under his arm on the left.
"What's happenin'?" the littlest Winchester asked turning his head just enough to look up into Dean's enraptured face.
"The pods are starting to hatch." He explained unblinking and shoving another couple chips into his mouth.
"Are they still other Gizmo's?" Sam flicked a flake of potato chip from his hair.
"I'm pretty sure they're not anymore."
"Then what are they?"
"Shhh we'll see."
OOooOO
A LITTLE LATER.
At last Dean could take a breath, he knew some big action was coming but for this moment as Billy and his girlfriend started moving slowly through the darkened department store he could no longer ignore the burning stretching pain in his bladder.
"Sammy?" He said softly just in case the kid had trembled and hidden himself to sleep.
"Mm?" the little one looked up, his fist curled and pressed tightly against his mouth, Dean was actually surprised he wasn't taking a little comfort from his thumb.
"I gotta go pee." He half lifted the younger boy off his lap and slid himself out of the corner of the couch, waiting for Sam to leap up, grab his hand and demand to come with him.
"S'dark in der..." the boy muttered.
Once he was on his feet again he watched Sammy pull the throw blanket over his head and squeeze tightly to the back of the sofa. Whaddya mean he's not comin'? He doesn't wanna stay here by his self... he leaned just a bit to the side, looking into the patch of dark that hid the bathroom.
Dean swallowed hard and bit his lower lip then cast a quick glance toward the bathroom and back to his brother. He took a couple hesitant steps and knew if he didn't hurry he was gonna miss the good parts.
A smile brightened his face, "C'mon runt, I'm not leaving you out here alone in the dark... you never know WHAT might be running around."
The little one squealed, his face twisted in four year old fear as he threw off the cover, leaped from the couch and pumped his legs faster than he ever had before until he smashed head first into his big brother.
Finally with his arm wrapped securely around Sam, with someone to be brave for, he led the way into the dark.
OOooOO
A LITTLE LATER.
"Look Sam!" Dean pointed at the television where the still 'good' Mogwai was zipping around the department store in a Barbie convertible.
"Mm.. mm!" Sam shook his head, his face buried in his big brother's lap while his tiny body shook in fear.
In spite of the trembling beneath his hand Dean felt Sam turn his head barely enough (and yet just enough) for him to peek at the set.
"It's Giz to the rescue Sammy you don't wanna miss it!"
"I don't?" He asked, his voice muffled against Dean's jeans but sure enough turned his head just a little more, comforted by the older boy's presence.
"Nuh uh..." Dean petted the little boy absently grinning hugely in spite of the swirling and kinda excited but just a little sick feeling in his tummy.
As the shade went up in the floral department and the 'bright light' hit Stripe in the fountain, and his body started to melt Dean cheered riotously. Curled tight against his side, his thumb finally perched back in his mouth Sammy leaned forward, tear stains shining on his cheeks as he did his very best to look 'around' that horrible image, trying to find the heroic Gizmo.
"Billy get Gizmo... he got uh oh's!" He muttered around the digit.
Dean did a double take, amused by the open wonder on his little brother's face, as well as the pure sympathy he seemed to radiate.
"No... don't..." Sam whispered as Billy moved toward the glowing bubbling water of the fountain.
A split second later he screamed, his little boy voice shrieking piercingly through the motel room as he clutched Dean hard around the ribs, smashing his face into his chest and sobbing hard and deep.
Dean chuckled having startled too, at that final moment when Stripe's skeleton leaped out at Billy from the fountain, "Easy tiger, easy... it's over that was the last big scare." He assured, "Look, see they got Giz and they're going home now... the sun is gonna come up and it'll all be over."
Slowly the little sobs hitched to a stop, "Ooo pomifff?" was mumbled into his side.
"Yeah I promise... Look they're back at home now."
By the time the movie was truly over and Gizmo's real daddy had come to get him, and the Mogwai had said, "Bye bye woof woof." And the two of them moved down the road with the little creature chattering happily; Sammy's tears were dried but his eyes remained wide and his mouth tight with fear.
"That was awesome!" Dean sighed contentedly leaning back with a deep sigh, holding his little brother for a second to let it all digest. A moment later his own eyes bright with exhilaration and the mask that would eventually hide the real boy safely from the rest of the world not sitting quite right just yet, he smiled tightly at Sam.
"You ready to go to bed now runt?"
Sammy's vehement head shake and big scared eyes told him all he needed to know. I'm not gonna be sleeping alone tonight...that's definitely okay.
"What if they come here?" Sammy asked.
Dean shook his head, "They can't, they're all dead."
The little one shook his head hard, certainty all over his face, "Mmm?"
With a huff and once again given a reason to be brave the elder brother rolled his eyes and slid easily off the couch moving to the counter of the kitchenette where his hand closed around a canister.
"Then we'll just have to make sure they can't get in okay?"
"Might be here a'ready." Sam nodded but frowned at the same time.
"They couldn't be, it was snowy and Christmas in the movie and that's a long way away right?"
Sammy thought for a second then nodded.
"Well then they couldn't be here yet so we just need to make sure they can't get in right?"
Again the little one nodded, his lips pursed as he tried to work out the logic in his big brother's plan. When he 'got it' it was as if a light bulb was lit up inside and his smile could have brightened the whole neighborhood. And as usual, Dean was grateful.
Together they walked around the little apartment, Sammy watching his big brother act like daddy, leaving lines of salt at any place that opened to the outside world, when the question came to him.
"Why'd we do that?" he asked patting the canister in Dean's hand.
"What? Lay salt down?"
Sammy nodded.
"Dad says it let's scary things know we're protected wherever we go."
The answer seemed to satisfy the youngest Winchester and by the time they had a nice smooth solid line at each possible entryway from the outside, both boys were tired enough and wound down enough to climb into bed, making sure to leave the lights blazing in every room. Without a thought they both slid into Dean's bed and just a few deep breaths later, were out like a pair of lights.
OOooOO
Sammy couldn't say what woke him up for sure, Stripe! his heart thumped heavily in his chest and his body felt hot and steamy in the dark. He could feel his chin wobbling as he slowly turned his head to look at his brother, Dean said not to wake him... we went to bed with lights on... and its dark... mmmmmnooooo... he's here.... mmmm he looked back at that older boy sleeping obliviously beside him.
Slowly, carefully he pushed himself back toward the wall. The cool air outside the blankets, away from the natural furnace that was his brother sent shivers through him as it dried the sweat on his skin. He looked up, the corner's safe...no sneakin' up on me there, gotta let Dean sleep, I won't wake you up less I have to, and with his back pressed tightly into the corner leaned forward to gently pat the older boy's head. A moment later he slid the pillow that used to have the cars on it, but now had different kinds of guns on it, out from under Dean's ear and held it to his chest while the night passed by, his only comfort the sound of his brother's even breathing.
OOooOO
Mm? S'not here? He cracked an eye open while patting the empty space beside him, the same one that should have been filled with his baby brother, and glanced around.
He knew it was daytime, the brightness glowed through his eyelids and the skin and belly crawling fears of the previous night were gone, banished by the sun.
"Mm?" He questioned peering around. The familiar pattern of Pinky and The Brain in the form of Sam's footie pajamas drew his attention to the head of the bed. "Whadd're you doin' up there runt?" he mumbled spying the little one curled on his side, his thumb in his mouth, his eyes wide and glassy looking.
Something crawled inside the big brother's belly and he rolled up onto all fours, his head cocked to the side, "Sam?"
The little one's eyes flicked to his and his mouth worked a few times in quick succession around the soggy digit inside. It was as if he'd been sort of asleep in spite of his eyes being open.
"S'up?" he asked hastily glancing around the room just in case something had happened.
There was a faint 'pop' as Sam pulled the thumb from his mouth, "S'morning?"
Confused, Dean's brows furrowed, "Yeah its morning... what's up runt? Somethin' scare you?"
"Mmm hmm," Sam nodded sitting up and clutching the pillow to his chest.
"What?"
"Stripe."
"What?"
"I heard bumpy things and it was dark and it was hot an', an'..." he sniffed drawing his arm under his running nose.
"I told you he couldn't get here, we put salt down."
"He put the lights out." Sam protested.
"Was probably just dad."
"Daddy's home?" Sam asked with wide hopeful eyes.
"Probably crashed on the couch." Dean nodded grinning as the little guy flipped to his hands and knees, then slid off the foot of the bed and raced into the living room.
They found John fast asleep on the couch, his head thrown back, his mouth open with some of the strangest sounds any human could make coming from him.
"Daddy, daddy, daddy!" Sam raced pulling himself up with handfuls of flannel shirt until he was sitting on their father's stomach.
"Sam SHHHHH!" Dean urged following him into the living room.
"MMm?" John groaned, his arms closing around his littlest son and holding him close as he shifted slightly but slept on.
Pursing his lips tight and slipping a sigh out into the room Dean shook his head, if I'da done that he'da woke up and been p.o.'d! and moved into the bathroom to start the day.
OOooOO
Night after night for the next week Dean took Sam around the apartment, checking their salt lines, looking into closets and cupboards, the little one's fear of that vicious green gremlin could not be dispelled. Dean was alternately amused by the extent of his little brother's certainty Stripe would come for them, and growing tired of it.
When the fourth morning came and he once more found Sam curled on his side with his back to the corner, Dean's pillow clutched to his tummy and his thumb perched back in his mouth while his wide tired eyes scanned the room, Dean began to get concerned.
"It's okay Sammy," Dean assured the little one late Friday afternoon, putting him down for a nap in his bed while it was still light out and he was certain the youngest Winchester would be able to get some sleep.
Like throwing a light switch, and with his face turned toward the sun-bright window Sam was out, Dean's pillow clutched hard to him but at least without his thumb in his mouth.
"Dad?" Dean asked sitting at the table while John stood at the counter doing something with a meat and salt.
"Hm?"
"Are gremlins real?"
"Huh?" John whipped around frowning.
"Gremlins. Are they real?"
"No." He shook his head, "Gremlins are fantasy creatures that were thought up by the British Pilots of World War one to explain problems they were having with their planes." He arched an eyebrow at his eldest, "What's this about Dean?"
He shrugged and sighed, "It was on t.v. last weekend. I told Sammy he couldn't watch it but he wanted to, so I let him watch it with me and now he's scared, like almost CLOWN scared and I don't know how to make it better."
"What have you done to try?" John asked.
Dean sighed, "Well, before bed we go around the apartment, we look in the cupboards, the cabinets, under the sink, we don't have to worry about the shades and drapes cause we keep 'em closed anyway, and we check the salt lines cause I told him what you told me y'know? That it means we're protected."
John nodded understanding, "What else?"
"I let him sleep with me and we go down okay but when I wake up he's up in the corner scared silly, he's got my pillow and he's awake like he's been awake all night and sometimes he's shaking and he's gone back to sucking his thumb sometimes..." he could feel his eyes glassing over as the list of indicators of his little brother's fears grew longer and longer, he shook his head, "I'm sorry dad... I tried to tell him they weren't real, that Stripe couldn't come get us cause they weren't really real but I didn't really know for sure either," he motioned at John's 'work bag', "and I don't lie to him y'know?"
John frowned deeply torn between being angry with his eldest and wanting to help him find a way to fix this.
"You watched it on cable?" He asked.
"Mm hm," Dean nodded sniffling back his tears and sliding off the chair to stand at his father's side at the counter while he pounded thick slabs of salt crusted raw roast with a mallet, "What're you doing?"
"Mrs. Silverman gave me a roast for helping her out with her problem." He explained.
"But why are you hitting it?"
John sighed, "It's not the best cut of meat so I'm tenderizing it."
"Why didn't she give you a good one?"
"She gave me the best she had Dean. I'm grateful for it, you should be too."
"Oh I am." The young boy nodded smiling, "I like real meat." A moment later he sighed, "So what can I do for Sammy?"
"I'll tell you what, why don't we sit down tonight together, just you and me... we'll watch it and once I see what it's all about we'll figure something out together okay?" John nodded reaching over to turn on the oven but stopped and looked down, "Turn the oven on to 400 degrees for me would ya?"
Dean did then watched intensely as John made sure his son was watching while he raised the slabs back together and tied them quickly with a single piece of wet cotton string then looked between the three potatoes and three carrots on the counter. He handed the carrots to Dean, "Scrub those clean for me with the sponge huh?"
Grinning his eldest son grabbed them off the counter, "Sure dad."
"No soap." John smiled a second later when his boy reached for the bar on the back of the sink.
"'Kay," Dean blushed scrubbing the dirt off the vegetables while his dad quickly peeled the potatoes.
When both items were ready, he watched John break the carrots into pieces and toss them into the flimsy tin pan with everything else and cover it all with foil before sliding the whole kit 'n kaboodle into the oven.
"Now... that was about two pounds of meat. You cook it for 45 minutes for each pound so how long do we cook it for?" He asked his eldest who frowned and thought for a moment.
"Mmm two times forty five equals ninety... 1 sixty and 1 thirty..." he worked it out, "An hour and a half?" He asked.
"Are you asking me or telling me?" John asked.
"Mmmm an hour and a half." He nodded.
"That's my boy," John smiled and set the twist timer for 60 minutes before ruffing his boys' hair glad to have this evening with his sons. He'd put down an angry ghost, freeing a kind woman and her young teenage children from night after night of fear, allowing them to keep their house rather than having to run away from it which would have left their lives in shambles.
It had been a good week, a rare week for him and a success to be cherished. He'd been taken by surprise when Mrs. Silverman packed up the slab of meat from her own refrigerator and stuffed the basic vegetables into a bag for him to share with his boys.
"I wish I had more to offer Mr. Wilson. If there's anything I can do... Anything..." She'd offered earnestly.
Something about her had touched a chord in him, she was alone with her children, a son and a daughter and times were hard. John understood. So now he was back at the ramshackle apartment with his own two kids, craving that sense of family he far too often felt himself hardening against. Only now more than just wanting that sense, tonight he actually needed it. He needed to be a dad at least for tonight, and for tonight, that meant helping his first born fix what an error in judgment had caused, namely problems for the boy he fancied his baby.
OOooOO
"You let him watch this?" John asked incredulous and frowning deeply as the camera pulled back to reveal the YMCA pool filled with green light and smoke and a huge brood of Gremlins on the way.
Dean shrugged and tried to explain, "When it got to this part before I figured the best thing was to let him watch it all the way through so he could see the bad guys lose. I didn't know it was gonna be this scary, it looked like a Muppet movie almost y'know? Only a little better."
John shook his head but half smiled his understanding. Based on the previews he might have thought the same thing. Oddly enough though tonight he was glad his son needed him with something, let alone that it was something with regards to Sam.
When it first started he wasn't wild about Dean's desire to take such full control over his little brother. Everything from bath time to how quickly his diaper got changed to what baby food he was fed at what time of day, his first born was adamant about. It never dawned on John that Dean was doing his best to care for Sam in exactly the same way he'd been watching Mary do it since they brought the baby home from the hospital. At least he took an interest... it was more than I expected. He glanced to his son feeling his heart swell with pride. Then I just let go of the day to day stuff... he wasn't sure how he felt about himself for that, but once he did, an interesting transformation started to come about. Their little family fell into ranks making it that much easier for him to try and hunt down Mary's murderer knowing Dean would keep to the commands he set forth, it was one less thing to distract him from the hunt.
John grabbed their plates off the coffee table and headed into the kitchen.
"I thought you were gonna watch it Dad, you're gonna miss it... this is when he started to get really scared." Dean explained, "He kept his eyes covered until the Barbie car at the end cause that's when Giz went after Stripe and killed him."
"I'll be right back..." John nodded scraping the plates and rinsing them quickly before opening the fridge, "You up for some kool aid?" he asked tapping the remote against his thigh while he decided if he wanted beer or soda.
"Yeah." Dean slid off the couch and with his eyes only for his father, missed Sammy standing in the bedroom door with Dean's pillow clutched to his chest, rubbing the fabric against his cheek, his eyes glued to the tv set and the re-emergence of his nightmares.
"Daddy..." he whispered watching his big brother move into the kitchenette area before his eyes ran over the room. Smells like dinner, I'm hungry. On the coffee table the paper towels were crumpled, the butter half melted and the salt and pepper sat winking television reflections at him. "Salt!" he whispered, it says we're pr'tected and makes bad things go away... he remembered his big brother telling him.
His arms opened, the pillow fell to the floor and his little legs pumped into the living room, "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaadddddddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyy!" he cried.
In the kitchen John and Dean, at the counter turned as if in slow motion, their mouths dropping into surprised little 'o's as the littlest Winchester's chubby legs pumped him toward the coffee table, his hand outstretched to wrap around the salt shaker.
Dean started to move toward the little guy but John grasped the back of his shirt and held him still as they watched Sam turn, his little mouth lemon puckered with determination, his brows furrowed and an angry glint in his eyes as he wheeled around, standing in front of the tv and held up the shaker.
"Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllttttttttttttttttttttt!" he finished his cry, his little arm flinging left and right and up and down, spraying the fine white powder all over the front room.
He's a natural, John noticed the 'cross' type motions, or they've been spending too much time with Jim, then smiled at the realization his little one's eyes were closed. Perfect! He turned just enough to give the remote a clear line to the cable box and hit the Channel Up arrow then once the channel turned, shut it off effectively exorcising this particular demon for his little boy. Held in front of him, Dean glanced up into his smiling face and winked.
A moment later, when the shaker slid from the little one's flailing hand Sam finally opened his eyes and looked with disbelief at the darkened tv set. A moment later he turned scanning the room, his mouth spread wide with glee as he hopped and clapped in place, "I did it I did it I did it! Dean! Did you see? I did it!" he raced into his big brother's arms then looked up, "Hi daddy! I did it! I made Stripe go 'way!"
"Boy I was scared there too!" Dean exaggerated a huff of relief.
"Heya Sammy." John greeted smiling and pawing the kid's unruly mop, "Good job son."
"I'm hungry." The little one grinned reveling in his brother and father, their smiles and their happiness.
"I got it dad," Dean smiled as John reached over and turned on the radio while watching his eldest cut up a bit of roast for the younger boy.
Too bad they're all not gonna be that easy.
OOooOO
"You did good tonight Sam," Dean praised not really surprised when Sam crawled into his bed again then patted the mattress. "You still wanna sleep with me tonight?" He frowned when the little one nodded. "How come?"
Sam squished the rifle pillow just a bit more under his ear and smiled as Dean slid in beside him. He rested threw his arm over his big brother's chest and as his eyes slid easily closed sighed, "I pr'tect you."
Dean smiled, gave a pet and a pat to his baby and sighed contentedly giving him over to sleep, knowing he was in just the right hands.
OOooOO
End.
A/N - Just a snuggly little one shot. This one dedicated to my beloved Catbeist (a fun ficwanker in her own right). I kept her waiting for over a year for this one, sorry 'bout that milady, but I hope you liked it.
Please R&R.
Thank You.
sifi