Chap 7
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"Hi Bobby. Good to hear from you. Hold on will you?"
Sam stood up from the table before giving Dean a stern look.
"I'll just be outside Dean. You stay right there; don't move, and definitely don't touch anything, or I will go and find you a thinking step. Understand?"
"Yessir."
-o-
"Ok Bobby, I'm outside an alone now so I can talk. ...Yeah, it's good to get a break. ... No, nothing like that, he's a good kid. It's just that, well... Honestly Bobby? I'm currently suffering Interrogation by Four Year Old, an' I swear, it's worse than being tortured by a grumpy daemon who's suffering extreme IBS and toothache! Please, tell me you got something? ... It isn't? You sure? ... Oh man! I could kiss your hairy cheek. That's outstanding!...So? What? Wait it out? ... Sure, I can do that! Hey, while I'm waiting a couple of days to get my Dean back, kid Dean and me can hang out and have some fun, no prob ... Sorry? Say again? ... Really ... I see. Could take that long huh? That's...Interesting. Ok. Well, kid Dean needs clothes and he needs feeding. Gotta be first on the agenda for today. Soon as that's taken care off, we'll set off to yours. I'll call you when we're on route. Great plan and, Bobby, you're the best. We'll see you later."
-o-
Bobby Singer was left standing in his study with his now silent phone still held to his ear. Sam had ended the call quickly, before Bobby could possibly say no to the younger Hunter's snap decision to move both himself and the kid in with Bobby for the duration. Shoving his phone in his shirt pocket, Bobby shook his head in despair. There were numerous times he wondered whether his boys had forgotten that he too was a Hunter and, while he held the role of a central resource for the whole of the hunting community in various ways, he also took on field work himself when needed. He didn't sit around at home just in case the Winchester boys decided to drop by with their latest crisis.
"Damn Winchesters."
Making a start on clearing away the books he'd used for referencing, Bobby began to smile. His smile became a chuckle, that shifted into full on laughter as he imagined Sam's expression when he was told how long it might take for the witch's curse to wear off.
-o-
Stepping back inside the motel room, Sam had a rapid glance around the place. Satisfied there were no signs of anything having been disturbed, he turned his attention to kid Dean who sat quietly waiting and watching Sam. Sam grinned and clapped his hands together, instantly feeling idiotic for having done it, but carrying on regardless.
"Right, um, Dean. You about ready to dump this place? I'd thought first we'll find us somewhere for breakfast, then we'll hit the shops. You can order anything you like, even if it's ice cream...Sound good?"
Dean nodded.
"Sure. After."
-o-
Sam's beaming smile faded partially.
"Oh, right...You're still waiting to hear why I was a bit surprised to see you when I first woke up."
"You fell outta bed!"
"Um...Ok, I guess I did, didn't I?"
Sam sat himself opposite Dean.
"Ok. Well. Look, it's a bit embarrassing..."
Sam instantly had Dean's interested attention.
"...See I wasn't planning on baby...Kid-sitting at all so, when your dad rang, I'd had a couple of drinks. You know...Grown up drinks."
"You was drunk?"
"No, no. No way. Maybe just a bit...Happy. Anyway. When I woke up I think the very small, teeny weeny bit of grown up drink I'd had might've made me forget you were here. Only at first though, for a little bit. Then I remembered...And now, you and me? We're fine...Aren't we?"
To Sam's eternal embarrassment he heard himself sounding very close to pleading. He sincerely hoped when Dean finally changed back to how he should be, that the older Winchester wouldn't be able to recall any of his time being four again!
-o-
The merry sound of a little boy's burbling giggles suddenly erupted out of young Dean who, at the same time, rocked back and forth on his chair. His legs under the tee-dress moved as if he was peddling an invisible push bike while, in between his increasing fits of delighted giggles, he pointed at Sam and, in a sing-song voice, began repeating 'You fell outta be-ed. You fell outta be-ed..."
-o-
Dropping his head down onto the table top, Sam groaned aloud, increasing Dean's laughter to the point where the boy was clutching at his own tummy. Inevitably, Dean's condition led to one of the most hilarious things in a kids world; an unstoppable stream of squeaky, rapid fire bottom burps erupting from his own rear. Dean slid bonelessly from his chair onto the floor, where he rolled around laughing so hard, tears shimmied across his cheeks and alongside his nose.
-o-
Lifting his head and glancing down, Sam satisfied himself that Dean was still managing to breathe occasionally through his laughter, then stepped over the youngster as he headed to the kitchenette for more coffee. Guess this must mean I've convinced him at least. In which case it's all good. He'll quit laughin' soon...I hope!"
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Chick xxxx