Dean woke up slowly, the way a person dreams of leaving the world of sleep. The sun steamed through the window, dusting his face with warmth. Dean lingered in a state of sleep induced fog; he had not a care in the world. Dean wished he would never have to clear his mind and move on with his day. Lingering in that sleepy fog and taking his sweet time awaking was a luxury he rarely was afforded. Dad had drilled it into his head to be alert at all times, and most importantly, look out for Sammy. He could still hear his father's deep gravelly voice in his head. Sammy, Shoot! The slow trickle of consciousness quickly became a flood. Dean jolted out of his fog. The events of the night before returned and remembering all the things he had to do today hit him like a ton of bricks.
The first thing Dean noticed was how the sun lit the entire room with its brightness and warmth. It had to be nearing 12 o'clock. The second and more freighting thing he noticed was he was alone in his bed. Where was Sammy? Dean started to panic it was noon and Sam was gone and Dean hadn't woke up when he left. All the horrific things that could have gotten a hold of his little brother flashed through his mind.
"Sammy!" Dean shouted as he grabbed the sawed off and rushed out into the living room. It was a cruddy place, a bedroom, a living and dinky kitchen. Dean stopped dead in his tracks at the scene he barreled into. There was his four year old little brother sitting on the old wobbly round table surrounded by papers and crayons, but that wasn't what had dean frozen in place. What left Dean speechless was the fact that the kitchen looked as if a tornado had been through it. It seemed as if every pot and pan that the crummy apartment had was on the floor. Sammy was settled comfortably in what suspiciously looked like spilled milk and munching on what could have once been pancakes and syrup right off of the table. Dean eyebrows rose to his hair line as he noticed the peanut butter matting his brother's hair.
Sam glanced at his big brother and his hands flew into the air. "Deanie!"
"Sammy…" Dean said cautiously.
"Deanie looks what I made." Sam shouted as he clamored off the kitchen table and stumbled over to Dean. He grabbed Dean's wrist with sticky hands and clumsily pulled his big brother over to his soggy pancakes. "Looks De, I heated up pancakes and gots milk and drew you a picture and-"
"Sam!" Dean exasperatingly cut off the kids rambling. "Wha- Why did you do that? I would have gotten your breakfast and now you've made a mess. And you know you aren't allowed up alone and-"
"But De I was hungee" Dean looked down into Sammy's watery eyes.
Dean felt horrible this was entirely his fault he is supposed to be up before Sam. He was supposed to fix Sam breakfast, but he had been up all night helping dad research for a hunt and was exhausted. But, that was no excuse it was his job to take care of Sammy. "Awe, buddy. I'm sorry. Look let's get you cleaned up. Kay?"
"De is the baddies gonna come?" Sam asked quietly.
Dean looked down to see Sam staring at the sawed off shotgun that he still held. "No Sammy. I uh-" Dean stuttered. "No man come on you know nothing bad is gonna happen to you as long as I'm around. Let's go clean you up."
Dean held Sam's hand as he pulled him along to the small bathroom. The walls appeared to have once been a lime green, but now they were covered in dirt and grime making it even more repulsive. It was the perfect complement to the cracked tiles that were also crying out for a deep cleaning. The bathroom was garnished with a square sink. The cold water handle was completely rusted down to its core while the hot water handle was completely missing. A rectangular mirror was perched above the sink decorated with a long crack winding its way across the mirror like a tree with twigs and vines branching off.
Dean pulled Sam over to the grimy barely functioning toilet and hoisted the little boy up setting him onto the lid and patting his little boney knee before walking the two three steps back over to the pale pink tub. Dean had no clue who decided to decorate the bathroom, but he figured they were probably blind and just grabbed the first thing they ran into. Dean told Sam to stay put before running back out to what was left of the kitchen to grab the off brand dish soap the last guest had left behind. That's when the door opened and Dean turned, eyes wide, mouth hanging open as he audibly sucked in a gust of air.
"Dean Michael Winchester!" His father's deep voice boomed.
Dean winced. This was bad. This was super bad. "Sir…" Dean responded in a wavering voice.
"What in god's name happened in here?"
"Well, um see Sammy he uh…well…" Dean saw his father's calm stoic face and knew that always meant he was furious. Dean knew what he had to do. "Well I thought Sammy would enjoy some pancakes-"
"You made this mess?" His father asked calmly.
"Yes sir." Dean responded.
Believe it or not John Winchester was not stupid. Dean would never have created a mess of this magnitude. Okay scratch that he most definitely would, but he would have cleaned it up before John had walked in. No this mess had Sammy stamped all over it, but if Dean wanted to take the fall for his little brother well maybe this would teach him a lesson. "Okay you know the drill five miles every morning for the next two weeks."
"Yes sir." Dean sighed.
"Now where is Sammy?" John asked as he dropped his duffle on the floor.
"In the bathroom sir. Speaking of which I better get back to him. He's pretty sticky."
"Oh kiddo we better hurry I bet the kid is stuck to the wall with how much syrup he must be covered in" John joked.
Dean smirked it wasn't often his father cracked a joke. Dean scurried off to the bathroom with John a step behind. Perhaps a battle of bubbles will break out during this much needed family time.