A/N: For this story, I'm posting one chapter a month relevant to the date the story took place for instance, today is January 24 and the story is set on Dean's birthday, January 24th. I'm planning on doing a chapter each month for a year based on holidays, birthdays or for months where there are no significant dates, just drabbles. I'm also going to try and do all Weechester drabbles, but we'll see. Read and Review! Thanks!!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Chapter 1: Daddy's Car
Date: January 24, 1987
"Dean. Wake up Dean. Come on kiddo I don't have all day." Dean groaned as his father shook his shoulder. "Dean come on. Time to get up," John said. Dean grumbled for his father to go away and then pulled the sheets over his head.
"Can I Daddy?" Sam asked, sounding eager. Dean thought he heard something scrape against the floor.
"On the count of three Sammy," John instructed, "One…two…Three!" The sheets were yanked off and Dean sat up gasping and spluttering as Sam dumped a whole bucket of ice water on him.
"You're dead," Dean jumped out of bed and scrambled after Sam who let out a squeal before darting towards the far side of the motel room. John grabbed his oldest son before he could get far and started ruffling his hair with a towel.
"Next time, get up when I tell you to," John chucked as Dean fought against him. Sam was giggling in a corner with the bucket still clutched in one hand, "Now get dressed. I want to get out of here in ten minutes."
"Aw come on dad, it's only nine in the morning," Dean moaned, no longer fighting to get at his little brother, "And it's my birthday, I think I should be the one to decide when its time to go."
"Alright, you can sleep in, but you'll miss the surprise," John said, handing off the towel so he could finish getting his giggly three year old ready to go.
"Surprise?" Dean asked his interest piqued.
"Yeah it was a good one too, but since you don't want to go…" John trailed off.
"No, no. Nine a clock, pu-lease I could get up at six if I wanted to," Dean scoffed.
"Well hurry up then. I want you to get your surprise by noon but first you deserve the breakfast of Kings. It's not every day a kid turns eight," John smiled as he watched Dean scrambling for a fresh set of clothes to put on. Sam, still jittery from the morning's excitement, was dancing around the room as John tried to put shoes on him. "Sam, come here," John called, but Sam only jumped farther away as John got within grabbing distance. "Come on Sammy, just put on your shoes and then we can go."
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Sam giggled. He climbed up onto the bed and started jumping up and down, "Come get me Daddy." Dean grabbed his legs and pulled them out from under him. Sam squealed with exhilaration as he landed on his butt.
"Quit messing around," Dean said, trying to look serious, but failing miserably.
"Deanie's a meanie," Sam sang, trying to kick is legs out of Dean's grip.
"Knock it off Sammy," Dean dragged his little brother forward and Sam let out an ear piercing scream. As Dean let go of Sam's legs to cover his ears, Sam scrambled off the bed and ducked just under John's reaching hands.
"Come on Sam, I wana go," Dean groaned.
"Deanie's a meanie and Daddy's a fatty," Sam sang, skipping around the motel room. John finally managed to corner him and picked him up. Sam started squealing again and tried to squirm out of John's grip.
"Quick Dean grab his shoes," John said, laughing as he struggled to hold onto Sam.
"I don't wanna wear shoes!" Sam screamed, kicking his feet furiously. He almost kicked Dean in the face as the older boy tried to shove Sam's feet into the small shoes. After successfully getting Sam's shoes on, John set him down and grabbed his keys.
"Sam you hold Dean's hand understand me," John said, suddenly very serious, "I don't need you running out in front of traffic." Both boys understood Daddy's "serious" voice and Sam instantly calmed down. He took Dean's hand and the three of them left the motel and headed off to get breakfast.
The breakfast was simple. Dean ate his weight in eggs and Sam picked his meal off of both John and Dean's plates. As Sam was reaching over to grab a slice of toast off John's plate, Dean reached over to snag a piece of bacon, but Sam caught the movement and slapped his brother's hand away.
"Mine!" he said, scooting his plate away from Dean.
"Then quit picking off Dad," Dean said, turning back to his own plate. He poked forlornly at the crumbs on his plate until half a strip of bacon dropped onto his plate. He looked up, but Sam had already turned back to his own plate. "Thanks Sammy," Dean said earnestly, popping the bacon into his mouth. Sam ignored him. Once the boys had finished breakfast they headed off. Dean was practically bouncing in his seat as they drove down the highway. The look of pure ecstasy on his kid's face made John glow with pride.
"Alright now listen to me both of you," John said, as they pulled into the parking lot of an old thrift shop, "I don't want either of you to leave my side. I don't want you going to the bathroom without me got it?" They both nodded solemnly. Their father often used his "serious" voice more than once in a day, but today there seemed to be a little bit of an edge to it. "Sam don't let go of your brother's hand for any reason and Dean…"
"Watch out for Sammy," Dean finished for him.
"Alright," John nodded, "Let's go." Dean was about to ask where they were when Sam yanked him in the opposite direction.
"Hey! Didn't you hear Dad?" Dean said sharply as Sam bent down and started poking around in the gravel.
"Look Deanie I gots you a present," Sam said, sounding very pleased with himself. He dropped a smooth rock into the palm of Dean's outstretched hand. The stern look Dean had been giving to his younger brother melted instantly as the gift was dropped into his hand.
"Gee thanks Sammy. I love it," Dean smiled.
"Boys," John called. They ran over to where their father was standing at the door of the shop. "Stay with me," John instructed before opening the door. The shop was completely empty except for them and the few overhead lights were dim. John walked right up to the counter and began speaking to the man behind the counter. Dean was looking around wide eyed at all the stuff on the shelves. Homemade crafts like dream catchers and wooden figurines covered shelf after shelf. Handcrafted chairs and tables were scattered throughout the store and ancient looking china was set up neatly in glass cabinets. "Dean." Dean looked up as his father said his name and a huge grin spread across his face when he saw what was in his hand.
"It's a baby car," Sam giggled.
"It looks just like yours Dad," he said, awestruck as he looked at the small model car.
"I've been saving it for you for a long time now," John smiled, "I was waiting until you were old enough to take care of her. Do you think you're old enough?"
"Yessir," Dean said. Meeting his eyes with such seriousness that John almost burst out laughing.
"You'll keep her real nice?" he said, putting on a straight face that wasn't quite as good as his son's.
"Sure will," Dean nodded.
"And you won't break it," John continued.
"I won't break it," Dean promised.
"Then I think you're ready," John bent down to hand off the car and Dean took it gently out of his hands. For a long time he simply stood there and started down at the perfect replica of his father's car. He'd dreamed of driving the impala himself one day and now he had one of his own.
"Looky," Sam reached his hand into Dean's jacket pocket and pulled out the rock he'd given him. He then slipped the rock into the car through the window. "Now my present's driving Daddy's present," he said, pointing to the rock.
"Sure is Sammy," Dean grinned. The three of them went back to the car with Dean carrying his car as if it were about to spontaneously combust. This would one day become one of his favorite memories. Later he'd hidden the car in the glove compartment of the Impala and years later after an accident involving a semi, Dean had reached into the twisted chunk of metal that had been his father's car having no real hope that his model car had survived, but as he forced his way into the glove compartment, he found the car untouched and intact. He'd hidden it in his bag until the Impala was back up and running and had then replaced it in the glove compartment where it stayed forever with a little piece of gravel sitting in the front seat.
Thanks for reading and please review! Next chapter to be posted on February 14