Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
Summary: Story 1: Best Birthday Ever - Read on to find out how Dean celebrated his 9th birthday! Wee!chester, Hurt!John Words: 2,153
Fun fact: For those who haven't figure it out, Shrabbles = one-SHots + dRABBLES - and yes, I invented the word :)
Rated: K+
Best Birthday Ever
January 24th, 1988 Motel apartment
It is Dean's birthday today. And it is yet another day in the crappy motel apartment, looking out for Sammy while waiting for John to come home(motel). Not that Dean is expecting him to be back for his birthday.
He always waits, and hope for John's speedy return whenever he went out on a hunt, because it would mean that John had survived, yet again.
John is a great hunter, the best one there is, as far as Dean's concern. And John always comes back. No matter if it's 1 day, 3 days, or a week, he will always return. Sometimes bloodied and hurt and completely messed up, but still, alive.
Dean totally understands if John forgets about his birthday, as he will need every last bit of his skill, and wit, and focus, to hunt whatever evil things that he has got his hands on. The most awesome birthday gift that Dean could receive will just be for John to come home - safe and sound.
Therefore, it doesn't matter if no one wishes him a "happy birthday" on January the 24th. It doesn't matter at all. Really.
And Sammy's too young to remember anyone's birthday. He doesn't even know the number of days in each month. Dean didn't see a need to remind him though, it's not like they were used to celebrating birthdays anyway. It's been a few years since either Dean or John had their birthdays celebrated. John had always been out on cases on those days. Not a coincidence, just probability - he got on cases almost every other day.
Last year, fortunately, Dean managed to get hold of some candles which he had stuck on top of a peanut butter jam sandwich for Sammy's birthday. Sam was greatly amused by the small flickering flames and Dean's unflattering solo of the happy birthday song. He also seemed like he had understood when Dean tried to explain to him the concept of "birthday".
However, Dean is not a kid anymore. He has not been one since he was four - after his mother burned and died on the ceiling in Sam's nursery. And after today, he'll be nine. He does not care about birthdays nor cakes nor candles. In a few years' time, he will be strong and skilled enough to go on hunts, just like his Dad. Saving people, killing monsters, being a hero. Dean swells with pride when he thought about being like John, his Dad, and his hero. He can be John's back up, keep him safe, keep him alive. Just like what he has been doing with Sammy.
"Deean, when is Dad coming home?" Dean turns around to see Sam slouching on the sofa and gazing at him with a small frown on his face. The commercial had just come on the fuzzy tv.
"I don't know. Dad's busy Sam, he's working," Dean can't help but sound a little snappy as he repeated this line for not the first time tonight, nor the second.. or the third... It had been five days, though, since John went out to hunt. And five days (and nights), since Sam and Dean stepped out of this small, dull motel apartment. No wonder Sam is getting more and more spiritless.
"He's always working..." Sam huffed in discontent. Dean sighs. He's not wrong. But it's important what Dad's doing. He's saving lives out there from scary things that go bump at night.
"He'll be back soon. By tomorrow, promise," Dean lied to reassure Sam. Sam accepted the white lie with a small shrug of his little shoulders and returned his attention to the tv screen.
Dean, on the other hand, who is bored of both the tv and the faded wallpaper, tries to keep himself busy by other means. He folds the clothes and packs them away... and wipes the guns till they're shiny... Washes the dishes that were used during dinner... and stocks up the ammo in the weaponry bag... Time went by at an incredibly crawling speed. When it finally makes it to 11 pm, Sammy had long since dozed off in his seat and Dean had run out of things to do in the house. After turning off the tv, he pulls out a blanket to cover it over his little brother and then decides that he is ready for bed himself.
Just then, heavy footsteps sounded right outside the door. Dean is immediately on high alert, his hand reaches for the .45 inside the cupboard. There are 2 knocks on the door, follows by another 3, and then 2 knocks again. Dean's heart lifts right up as he unlocks the door and admits a tiny slit.
"Dad?" He blurted out excitedly as he peers through the gap.
"Yea, it's me..." John's exhausted voice matches his tired looks. Dean quickly stuffs the .45 back into the cupboard and unchains the door. John stumbles in and closes the door behind him. Dean immediately notices that something is wrong. John is bending forward while clutching his right side, his face white as sheet. Without warning, John wobbles unsteadily and Dean steps forward for John to lean onto him. As John regains his sense of balance, Dean pulls back his hand to review a handful of blood.
"Dad, you're hurt!" He cried out anxiously.
"m' alright, son... It's just a little cut," John managed a weak smile as he downplayed his injuries. "Where's Sammy?" He asked.
"Sleeping," Dean looked towards the living room sofa.
"Let's go inside then, quietly," John lowered his voice to keep from waking Sam to this unsightly scene.
John limps his way towards the only bedroom with Dean's support; drops his baggage on the bed; and head straight to the bathroom that is conveniently located inside the room. After making sure that John is sitting steadily on top the toilet bowl, Dean dashes out, only to come back with a first aid kit.
Meanwhile, John has gotten rid of his jacket and he pulls back his shirt to reveal a long deep gash. This is not the first time that Dean sees John being sliced open but he still let out a small gasp of horror at the "little cut".
"Get the alcohol in the fridge," John instructed and Dean runs to retrieve it. He also helps to pour them over the wound to disinfect it while John bites down on his jacket to keep from shouting out in pain.
"Arg...This will need stitches," John evaluated the serious wound. Dean immediately picks out the necessary tools from the kit and hands them over to John. With practiced movements, John begins sewing himself up while Dean watches closely at the side, learning. He'll have to master this skill soon so that he can treat his Dad if this happens again, which is more than likely.
It took longer than usual for John to close the wound as he is a little faint from all the blood loss and his hands were shaky. Finally, after pouring some more alcohol over the sealed cut and downing the rest, he is done fixing himself up. He tears his already-ruined shirt off his sweaty, bloody body and threw it into the trash bin. Then, he wipes off the dried blood around the cut with the wet towel that Dean has just passed him, while Dean cleans off those on his back. It had been a swift and quiet process where John gave short, clear-cut instructions and Dean follows through, without a single word.
After cleaning off most of the dirt and blood, Dean helps John onto the queen-size bed in the room, which is also the only proper bed they have. Usually, on days when John happens to be home, he will take up half of the bed while Dean and Sam share the other half. However, with John now weak and injured, Dean considerately decides to leave him the entire bed while he camps outside in the living room with Sammy.
"Dad, I'll sleep outside tonight, call me if you need anything," Dean told John. He is ready to head out to let John get some rest when John stopped him.
"Dean, wait, I almost forgot..." he said, while grabbing for a plastic bag among the baggage that he had brought back and dumped on the bed earlier on.
"Happy Birthday, son," he held out the plastic bag containing a single flimsy package. Dean was in complete shock as he took in the package with both hands. He stares down at the bag containing a small, transparent, plastic package, his mind went blank as he stood there in silence and stillness.
"You'll want to heat it up before eating, it is warm like half an hour ago. Anyway, you'd take pie over cake any day right?" John added when Dean had not spoken after receiving the gift.
Half an hour ago... That probably means John had gotten the pie on his way home - while having a long, deep slash on his right side... No wonder he seemed so pale. He had lost more blood than necessary if he had just come home straight in the impala without stopping for a cheap pie sold in a 24h gas station store...
"Thanks, Dad. Pie's perfect," Dean said gratefully as his eyes fill with tears when he realised the amount of effort John had to make for this very simple gift.
John nodded with a weak smile and lie more comfortably in his bed, his eyes barely opening as he settles for a long overdue sleep. Dean backs out of the room and softly shuts the bedroom door.
He carefully unwraps the packaging to see a slightly crushed pie inside. Smiling contentedly, he picks it up and put it in the microwave, to heat it up as John suggested.
"Dean? What are you doing?" Sammy's sleepy voice came from the living room sofa and Dean looks over to see Sam sitting up while wiping his drowsy eyes. Dean hastily dries the tears in his eyes.
"Hey, Sammy, you want some pie?" Dean offered generously.
Sam looks from the rotating microwave to the muddy footprints leading to the closed room door.
"Is Dad home?" His expression lightened up at once. For a 4-year-old-going-5, he sure is observant.
"Yup, I told you he'll be back soon," Dean beamed. "And let's stay out of the room for now. Dad's sleeping and he's really tired," Dean said quickly when Sam jumped down from the sofa and looked like he had wanted to check for himself if John is really home.
"Ok," Sam agreed easily. He walks over to the dining table instead, where Dean is waiting for his pie.
"Dad bought you pie? Did he get one for me too?" Sam asked after seeing the rotating pastry in the oven.
"There's only one. We can share it," Dean replied. "It's for my birthday," Dean explained, not wanting Sam to think that Dad had forgotten about him.
"Oh, it's your birth-day, Dean?" Sam lightened up instantly at the news. Dean takes out the heated pie from the microwave.
"Yea, it is. It's my ninth birthday," Dean said proudly. "Dig in," he passes a fork to Sam.
"Wait, but there are no candles on the pie. We should put nine candles on top right?" Sam inquired. Dean is surprised that Sam still remembers such detail when he had only ever celebrated birthday once, the year before. "I will sing the birthday song, then you can blow the candles," Sam said knowledgeably.
"You know how to sing the birthday song?" Dean asked incredulously.
"They sang it a few times - on tv," Sam replied, clearing Dean's doubts at once. "And the people on tv had birthday cakes," Sam eyed the small pastry on the plate.
"And I have birthday pie. I love pie," Dean said heartily. It is not just any pie too. This is the pie that Dad had brought, while wounded and bleeding, just for his birthday. "Also, we don't have candles in the house now but it's fine, I don't need them," Dean said dismissively.
Sam thinks about it for a second and leans forward to scratch out nine lines on the pie with his fork, counting aloud as he does so. "One, two, three, …, seven, eight, nine. There! Nine candles!" Sam declared delightedly.
"Thanks, Sammy," Dean grinned at him.
"I'll sing the song now," Sam announced.
"Ok, but sing it softly, Dad's sleeping," Dean reminded.
"Happy bir-thday to you~ Happy birthday to you~ … …"
The clock on the wall shows 5 minutes to midnight.
On the 24th January of 1988, with Dad safely home, birthday pie on the table (brought by Dad) and Sammy celebrating his birthday with him, Dean thought blissfully in his heart, that this may just be the best birthday ever.
~The End~
Thanks for reading! This is my 2nd Spn fanfic and 1st one-shot (1st fic being "Demon Dean - A Man (Demon) of His Words").
I really enjoyed writing young Sam and young Dean - they are soo adorable! X)
Writer's Random Rant:
There's quite a number of people who thinks that John was a bad father to Sam and Dean (and Adam) and also portrayed him as such in a handful of fics (which I am totally ok with). But this fic shows my own interpretation of John based on the show and I feel that, although he had not exactly provide them with a good (and normal) childhood experience, he had really tried his best given the circumstances, and he really loves the boys~