"Deano? I'm heading to the store to get some supplies, look after your brother for me." John Winchester called to his 13 year old son as he headed for the door.
"Aw, but daaaaad! I said I'd meet my friends down by the lake in half an hour! You already said I could go!" the kid shot back angrily from the upstairs landing.
"I know, buddy, but I gotta go get these supplies before my next hunt. I won't be long. Just take him with you, they won't mind..."
Dean huffed, looking at John incredulously. "Dean..." His dad warned, losing patience. "The sooner I leave, the sooner I get back and the sooner I can keep Sammy entertained while you socialise."
Dean sighed dramatically, frowning at the older man. John ignored the look; Dean's puppy dog eyes had never been as impressive as his brothers so John wasn't affected by them having hardened his heart to Sam's.
"That's my boy. I'll be back soon. Be good, and keep Sam safe! Let him take some toys and he'll keep himself amused" John promised, hoping to pacify his son.
Dean rolled his eyes, "Hurry up and go already so I don't have to look after that geek for long. He's so annoying!"
John raised an eyebrow, then thought better of it and turned for the door, grabbing the impala keys on his way. "Just stay outta trouble, tough guy. Sammy? I'm just going out to the store, buddy, I'll be back soon. Listen to your brother and do what he says, alright?"
Sam called an absent-minded response without looking up from the TV. John grinned then left. Dean grumbled to himself as he got ready to go out before stomping downstairs and abruptly turning the TV off. "Get your shoes on, bitch. We're going out."
Sammy whined, wanting to watch the end of his documentary about Africa. He wanted to travel some when he was older; there was so much to learn about the world, if only Dean would see that! "But I was..."
"Listen: Dad put me in charge. I don't want to look after some whining brat. You told Dad you'd listen to me, so put your shoes on and get some toys. We're heading down to the lake." Dean relented at Sammy's hurt expression. "C'mon Sammy, it'll be fun... I promise."
Sam's eyes lit up at that. He hung on his brother's every word and believed everything Dean said to him. It didn't take long to get ready, and soon they were headed to the beach with soda and snacks, Sammy chattering animatedly about what he'd learned and jogging to keep up with Dean. When they arrived, Dean's friends were already there and all waved in greeting.
"Aw, hey Sammy." The ring leader greeted, smiling at the younger boy. Ross' little brother was Sammy's age, so the two boys knew each other quite well. Sam smiled, pushing floppy brown hair out of his eyes.
"Hey Ross..."
"How come you're down at the lake, Sammy?" Ross asked, genuinely curious.
Dean rolled his eyes, huffing. "Dad's at the store, said I had to bring him along till he's finished. Sam brought stuff to keep himself amused though, he won't be a problem. Isn't that right, Sam?"
"But... I wanna play with you!"
"No. You can't keep up, Sammy. You're too little. Besides, these are my friends. We're not your babysitters."
"But..."
"Sam! Just leave me alone to have fun!" Sam's face fell and Dean groaned. "Look, it's just for a little bit. Please?" Dean went to ruffle his brother's long locks but Sam pulled away abruptly, turning away with lower lip trembling. Dean huffed. "Fine, do whatever. If you're going to be a baby, you definitely ain't hanging out with us. This is no place for babies, Sam, just get out my face."
With that, Dean turned back to his friends, quickly getting caught up in their jokes and games; not thinking his brother would actually listen. He'd forgotten how Sam hung on his every word, and didn't notice the nine year old slipping away angrily; tears shining in his eyes. Sam climbed across the rocks along the lake, determined to prove how brave he was. He soaked up his surroundings, getting caught up in an imaginary world of good versus evil – fighting imaginary monsters and dragons that he didn't know could really exist.
Over an hour passed without Sammy making any more fuss, and as Dean noticed the silence he became increasingly concerned. Sammy never left him alone this long – his little brother always pestered him, practically glued to him like an extra arm or leg. He turned from the game of baseball to find his brother, eyes going wide when he realized Sam was nowhere to be found. "Aw, fuck!" He hissed, suddenly worried.
"Dean? What's up, dude?" Ross called, noticing the panic in his friend's eyes.
"Sammy?! SAMMY!" Dean called, jogging off to find his baby brother. He searched round and about, calling for the kid everywhere. He made out the sound of quiet crying about fifteen metres away among the rocks and tore off in that direction: he'd know that cry anywhere. Sammy was biting his tongue, trying to be brave despite being trapped among the rocks; his knees cut and scraped and his wrist too sore to move from its place between two rocks. Suddenly Dean's face appeared above him, looking terrified.
"Sammy?" Dean asked quietly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dean" He growled, willing his voice not to wobble. "Go away!" Dean flinched, blinking like he'd just been sucker punched. He frowned suddenly.
"Sam? What happened? Your arm's trapped..." Sam shook his head slightly, feeling the tears start again. He didn't care that Dean thought he was a baby; just wanted his big brother back. "Hey, hey, hey... Come on, tough guy. It's okay, I'm here. We gotta get you outta there, baby bro."
"Owww! Dean, NO!" Sam wailed as Dean carefully moved to join him so he could extricate his injured arm.
"Shhh, Sam. I gotta get it out. Ross? Ross, over here!" Dean called, "Bring my backpack!"
Sam whimpered, not wanting Dean to touch it. Dean sighed to himself, forcing himself to use the same stern tone Dad often did. "Samuel, cut it out. I need to get your wrist out of there so we can fix things, stop fighting me. I mean it, Sammy. Quit it." Sam bit his lip as Dean gently worked on easing his arm out from the fallen rock, letting the tears fall but not fighting him. Ross had sent one of the other boys to a call box to get John and soon the familiar sound of the Impala could be heard.
John appeared a moment later; proud of his eldest's attempts to free his little brother and heart in throat for his youngest, who was gnawing on his lip with face scrunched up in pain. "Hey guys."
"DADDY! Make it stop! It hurts soooo bad!" Sammy cried, reaching for John with his free hand. John squeezed the small appendage, stroking his hair back from his face.
"Shh, shh, Tiger. Dad's got you. Deano, how we doing?"
"Okay, I think I..."
"OWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
"...got it! Sorry, Sammy... Dad, I think it's broken..."
John took a quick look, confirming his son's analysis. "We'll take him to the local hospital, get it reset and put in a cast."
"Daddy, I'm sorry... so sorry..." Sam cried as John carefully picked him up, keeping his sore arm safe.
"Shhh, I know you are. It's okay now. Everything's okay..."
"But... I don't want Dee Dee to be mad..." Sam sobbed into his shoulder. Dean's heart broke at that, and he fought his own tears as John soothed his younger brother, sick with guilt.
-SPN
John got them to a hospital quickly, and before long the doctor's had set Sam's arm in a cast, even letting him choose his own colour. Sam chose Dean's favourite colour, wanting to earn his big brother's forgiveness. He was quiet and subdued, and nothing the nurses said brought him out of his melancholy. Eventually Dean went into the room, talking quietly to reassure his brother. John watched, unsure what Dean whispered in Sam's ear, as the younger burst into quiet sobs and cuddled into Dean's side.
Before long they were able to leave and as always Dean did an amazing job of cheering his brother up. He even offered to let Sam listen to his Walkman – something almost unheard of in the Winchester household. When they got home, John got both boys fed then helped Sam have a bath without getting his cast wet. He got the younger boy ready for bed and let him choose a film for them all to watch once Dean's pyjamas were on. Sammy was exhausted from his adventure, and was curled up asleep on John's lap by half seven. His dad scooped him up and put him to bed; careful to avoid any pressure to his broken wrist. He tucked him in then checked the salt lines before slipping out and shut the door quietly behind him.
He returned to an overly squirmy, subdued Dean and frowned, turning the TV off and sliding the young teen onto his lap. "You wanna talk about it, sport?" He asked quietly having not seen Dean so emotional in a couple of years. Aside from with a sore butt.
"...was all my fault." The boy said eventually. "Dad, I called him a baby and I told him to go away and leave me alone cause I didn't have time for babies. But I didn't think he'd do it! And then I thought he was reading in a huff so I left him to it, but then I realised he'd been quiet too long and I'd lost him and he broke his arm cause of me and he thought I didn't want him to be my baby brother anymore and..." Dean trailed off, gasping for breath through his tears.
"Woah there, Deano, it's alright. Sammy's fine, he's safe and sound in his bed. He just had a bit of an adventure, that's all. He knows better than to wander off alone, that wasn't your fault, son—"
"But I didn't look after him! He got hurt on my watch 'cause I disobeyed you and didn't look after him! I was mean! And I sent him away and... Daddy!"
John raised an eyebrow, catching his son's eye. Dean stared right back at him, lip trembling.
"Daddy, I think I need the belt..." Dean whispered eventually, trembling nervously.
"Well, I don't, son. You're too young to feel a belt against your backside."
"But... stop being a... dick!"
"So now you're gonna try push me into taking my belt to you?"
"If I gotta, uhuh!"
"I'm not using my belt, Dean, that's my final decision." Dean huffed, flopping against him dejectedly in defeat, and trying not to cry. He'd never get rid of his guilt! "But, I think you're maybe overdue a trip over my knee, don't you?"
Dean's head shot up, surprised. "What, you don't? That's what you wanted a minute ago." The teen whimpered. "I won't have you beating yourself up, Dean. It won't help anyone, and it's time it stopped. Go fetch a wooden spoon from the kitchen drawer, champ, let's deal with this now."
Dean stood up nervously, fetching the implement of doom and suddenly dragging his feet. He wasn't sure what had possessed him to think he needed a sore ass, but was starting to reconsider. "Dad..."
"Shhh, Dean. C'mere." John gently took hold of his son's waistband, tugging him closer and over his knee before sliding his pyjama bottoms down. Dean groaned. John raised his hand, landing a firm swat to his son's waiting backside. Dean grunted – the first one was always the worst. His dad smacked hard, setting up a quick, heavy pattern to his backside which quickly set it on fire. When Dean was wriggling and whimpered over his knee, John bared his backside, before continuing. He knew this needed to be bad to purge Dean's guilt, and he owed it to his little boy to do this right. He quickly painted Dean's backside and thighs a uniform shade of scarlet, then paused to pick up the spoon. "Alright champ, why are we here?"
Dean shuddered, images of his brother trapped coming back in waves. The tears trickled down his cheeks, matching his little brother's earlier tears. Dean listed his sins, guilt rich in his voice, and John's heart nearly broke for him. Oh Deano, he thought, what responsibility I've put on you. My poor soldier. Mary, I'm so sorry. John thought sadly, hating what he had to do.
"Right. When I asked you to do it, you do it without complaint. The instructions I give you are for a reason – to keep you and your brother safe, and I need you to follow those rules. You're the big brother, Dean; Sam looks up to you for everything and hangs on your every word. I know that's tough, but it's a reality you have to be brave enough to face. You don't ever send your brother away in a tantrum, son, do you hear me? You know better, and I expect better. I don't expect you to give up your friendships or childhood, but even if Sam doesn't join in, you make sure he's safe and okay. Otherwise situations like today happen and whilst it was Sam's choice to wander off and as a result of that get hurt, if you'd looked after him that wouldn't have happened. I don't want to see a repeat of this. Do I make myself clear?"
"Uh...h...huh! I m... mean... yessir! M'sorry!" Dean wailed into the couch cushion, butt on fire. His dad's speech had reduced him to tears along with the feeling of the small wooden over crashing against his already sore backside over and over again. He gave into the tears and lay still crying, knowing his Daddy would make it all better. His only movement was to reach back, seeking the comfort and forgiveness of his Dad's strong hand. John recognised the move and willingly obliged, needing the comfort himself. He finished up quickly with a dozen swats to Dean's burning sit spots then put it down on the coffee table. After fixing Dean's clothing, he pulled the crying boy into a tight hug, letting him cry out all his fears from the day
Dean slowly calmed, lying against his dad's solid chest with his arms wrapped around John's neck. He didn't care how childish he looked, too overcome by the day's events to keep up his tough guy facade any more. "I was so scared when I saw him there..." Dean mumbled sadly after a while, "He looked so afraid, Daddy. I'm so sorry. I love you..."
"I love you too, champ. Did you fix things with him?"
"Uhuh. I promised him in the hospital I'd never ever stop being his big brother ever again. We're a team. I promised I'd never leave him alone again. I'm his big brother, and he'll always be my partner."
"Like a sheriff?"
"Kinda. Like those navy people... What are they called? SEALs... We're those tough guys..."
John grinned, rubbing Dean's back. "My second in command seals, I like it. My brave boys... I'm proud of you Dean, you know that?"
Dean blinked in surprise. "...Really?"
"Really. You look after your brother so well. You're fiercely loyal and you never give up on people. I'm proud of the man I see you becoming, even though you're still a kid. My kid. Never forget how proud I am, no matter what happens. Even when I'm disappointed in your choices, I'm still proud of you, son."
Dean thought about that then broke into a grin, hugging John closer. John chuckled. "Come on then, champ, let's get sleepy boys something to drink then get you ready for bed. You go clean your teeth, okay?"
Dean nodded, eager to make him proud. John changed into sweatpants and baggy t-shirt while Dean got ready for bed, then carried Sam through to his bed, careful not to wake him. Next he collected Dean who frowned in confusion, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "In." John ordered gently, holding the covers up. Dean shook his head.
"Dean..."
"You go first, and then I can cuddle you..." Dean mumbled, blushing in embarrassment at being such a baby. John grinned, obliging.
"In..." He tried again, laughing when Dean quickly obeyed, snuggling against his solid frame. Sammy wriggled closer in his sleep too, and John tugged both boys tight against his side, tucking the covers around them. He listened to their breathing even out and then kissed two foreheads, brushing hair the two sleeping heads; one warm and sweaty, the other normal.
He knew he'd probably have to finish fixing the aftermath tomorrow, but for now he figured he'd just savour the feel of his cowboys tucked against his side – safe and sound and partners in crime as always.