AN: Good news is that it's summer vacation where I am. Bad news is that I have on-the-job-training this summer vacation... which means I'm gonna be working... on actual jobs. -_-
My first job is in a radio station, and I've been going there with my friends since last Tuesday. Anyone have any experiences there? Tips or random stories? Advice on surviving a job? :D
Anyway, read on.
10:18 PM
From the threshold that led to the kitchen, Dean snuck a glance into the living room and sought out their target. As he expected, an oblivious Conner was situated on the sofa and was preparing to go to sleep. Dean chuckled and signaled for his brother behind him to switch off all the lights in their motel room.
Once darkness fell, they heard Conner yelp in confusion (or was it surprise?) and that urged the brothers to step out of the kitchen with their loads held proudly in front of them. A pair of flashlights lit Sam and Dean's way and also announced their presence to Conner as they approached him. From there, the two of them started to sing.
"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!"
In Dean's possession were his and Sam's presents, both wrapped in newspapers with a bit of crayon design to make the covers look a little fancier. Meanwhile, Sam had with him a blue cupcake that had a tall, burning candle on top.
The instant the song ended, Conner was, yet again, wearing perhaps the most bemused expression in the universe.
"We tried getting you a real cake, but we blew most of our cash at the town fair." admitted Dean.
"So we got you the closest thing we can find: a cupcake!" Sam yelled out happily, placing the cupcake on Conner's lap.
Conner sat on the sofa completely dumbfounded. He stared at the cupcake, then at the brothers, then back at the cupcake as if everything would all add up eventually.
"Well, don't just sit there. Make a wish and blow the damn candle already!" said Dean.
A couple of seconds passed and comprehension finally drifted into Conner's eyes. If Dean focused hard enough, he could see his friend's mind trying to remember all the things Sam had told him about birthdays. When Conner's face brightened, just a tiny smile manifesting out of the shadows, Dean assumed that Conner realized at last that this sort of thing was (somewhat) normal during birthdays and went along with the festivities.
Conner leaned into his cupcake, thought about his wish for a moment and blew out the candle. Next to Dean, Sam suddenly began clapping and cheering like an ecstatic seal.
"Yay! Present time! Present time!" he exclaimed. He wrenched his gift under Dean's arm and sat beside Conner on the sofa. "Open mine first!" he said excitedly as he practically shoved the bundle of newspapers into Conner's arms.
Gradually, Conner did so. Once the object was out in the open, he cautiously turned it over and over in his hands, inspecting its every angle and striving to decipher its purpose.
"What is this?" asked Conner.
"It's a glow-stick!" replied Sam. He bent the glow-stick until a snapping noise was heard. When he returned it to Conner, a soft blue light materialized within the stick, which soon intensified into a more vivid hue that could almost be mistaken for a strip of the sky at twilight. "It's only good for one night, but that's what makes it extra special! Do you like it?" Sam eagerly inquired.
"I do, I like it very much. Thank you, Sam." said Conner, completely awestruck. Blue cupcake, blue glow-stick… Dean would never really know why they settled for blue being Conner's color. Maybe it was his eyes that made them decide, or maybe it was because blue was cool and calm, much like Conner.
Sam half-hugged half-tackled Conner in response, and the cupcake nearly tumbled to the floor. "Your turn, Dean!" he said.
Compared to his brother's shiny gift, Dean was regretting his rather lame gift for Conner but, clearly, it was too late to change anything now, so they just had to deal with it. "Here," said Dean, basically tossing his gift at Conner.
As the last piece of newspaper fell away, a worn cardboard box the size of an apple was revealed. Conner and Sam looked at it curiously for some time, until Conner eventually had the idea of taking the lid off. Inside the box was an assortment of colorful band-aids, long ones with rocket ships and stars, short ones that had tigers in jungles, ones at normal length with smiley faces…
Dean felt himself blush in embarrassment, although he hoped the darkness of the room was sufficient to conceal the faint red in his cheeks. "I dunno, you're a total wuss when it comes to most things. So I thought… if you get hurt or anything and you're all by yourself, you, uh… you got these." he awkwardly explained to Conner. He unintentionally glanced at Conner's hand, the one he had cut on their first meeting, and discovered that the band-aid was still there.
To be honest, Dean expected Sam to start laughing at him for being such a girl, and Conner to say that he hated the gift. But his brother was in fact smirking fondly at him, and the way Conner stared into the box was like he had received something warmer than the warmest hug in the world.
"Thank you, Dean." said Conner quietly. He sounded sad and happy at the same time, and Dean wondered how that was even possible.
Then it was the same when Conner smiled a few seconds later, or tried to. It was a sad and happy smile, and Dean did not fail to note his friend gripping his orange monkey – the thing he won at the fair – tightly, holding onto it as if he needed the toy to stay… or he needed an anchor to prevent himself from drifting away.
"You're both so kind to me. I am nothing but a stranger to you, and yet over the last few days, you've treated me with so much benevolence. You've given me food, shelter, clothes… I feel like I'm not worthy of your compassion." said Conner softly.
His head was bowed and his eyes were locked on the cupcake balancing on his knees, though Dean knew better. This was someone who wanted to look anywhere else except at the people he was talking to. Dean was all too familiar with this because he had performed the same thing in front of his dad a couple of instances, when things had been bad and times had been greatly desolate. What usually happened next would involve tears trickling down without the person's notice, but Dean was not going to allow that.
"Okay, first of all, you're not a stranger. You're Conner, or at least that's how you want it to be." began Dean, his voice strong and serious enough to make Conner look up. "You're a friend. And I don't know how things work in your family, but for us, we look after the people we care about, so don't say you don't deserve anything good."
Conner stared at him in pure shock, like he felt he probably did not deserve those words either. It was at that moment Dean realized how truly messed up his friend was. This, more than anything, showed him that Conner had lived a harsh life before they met him; not only did his family abandon him, but it seemed that they taught him not to expect genuine acceptance by others.
Right now, Conner's tense shoulders finally slumped down, sort of like an apology and relief all rolled into one gesture. Damn it, why did he have to appear so miserable no matter what he was doing?
"I'm not supposed to yell out 'group hug!' right?" muttered Sam, breaking the tension that had cultivated in the air.
Dean gave him an eye-roll. "You're such a girl." he sighed.
His brother threw him a cheeky grin and even Conner let out the slightest chuckle; Dean was glad that things were going back to normal.
"How old would Conner be?" asked Sam, letting them switch to another topic.
Good question. Dean assessed Conner's form very carefully, and when Conner realized he was being scrutinized, his posture went ramrod straight, like what a soldier would do when he wanted to look presentable in front of his commanding officer.
"Since he hasn't given us a direct answer, we'll have to figure it out ourselves." said Dean.
"Is that allowed?" Sam inquired.
Dean shrugged. "We gave him a birthday. We sure as hell can give him an age." he stated. Age was a serious thing, because the older a person was, the more power and authority they had, especially over those younger than them. Dean studied Conner for a while. "What do you think, Sammy? You want another guy who's older than you or do you wanna be the older one for a change?" he asked.
"That one! I wanna be older." replied Sam giddily.
Upon hearing those words, Conner turned to Sam with a mixed expression of incredulity and dismay. "…But I've been alive for far longer than you." he sniveled.
"Says you. We're the ones who got you a birthday, so it's our job to take care of the rest of the details." stated Dean. He placed his hand under his chin and studied his friend with the same level of meticulousness he used whenever he would help his dad with the hunting. "Hmm… if you're gonna be the youngest here, Sam's gonna be the boss of you too, and that sucks. Still, it kinda fits your profile. I mean, you barely know how things work half of the time." said Dean, chuckling.
Conner bit his lower lip in shame. Dean had to admit that Conner being bossed around by his brother was amusing, which was easy to imagine given Conner's degree of naivety. Sam often showed that he had a weird five-year-old brain and he would most likely get Conner to do the most ridiculous of things, such as help him paint bunnies on the walls or, even worse, convince Conner to side with him on every topic all the time. That was just a catastrophe waiting to happen. Besides, Conner seemed to be older than four, that much was sure.
"But you do know some stuff, especially really big words. And you're not as whiny as Sam." continued Dean, and Sam stuck his tongue out at him.
In spite of Conner's cluelessness at times, he frequently behaved like he was older, much older than he should be, as if he had grown up too fast in certain areas. For starters, he never acted carelessly; Dean had seen a lot of kids on the road and he had seen them all being reckless or happy-go-lucky or just plain stupid at least once. Conner was too… well-behaved. Of course, he would indulge in a bit of mischief now and then, but only when he was prompted to by others (which meant Dean and Sam), never on his own accord. The way he spoke sometimes made him sound like an adult, and whenever he was staring at something, Dean had the slight inkling that there was more going on in Conner's head, like he understood matters far more than any of them ever could.
Dean cleared his throat when he noted that he had not said anything in a while. "I can't make you older than me, 'cuz I'm the oldest and that means I'm in charge of everything." he laughed. He was nine after all, merely one year short of achieving double digits. There was definitely no way he was going to make Conner older.
Dean considered the matter more thoroughly, pacing back and forth along the length of the couch. Sam and Conner watched in anxiety, similar to an audience awaiting the decision of the judge.
Simultaneously, Dean stopped moving and snapped his fingers victoriously. "I got it! You can be the middle guy; younger than me but older than Sam. That way, all's fair and everybody can be happy." he concluded. The lack of an objection after five seconds signified that both of them were fine with it.
"So Conner would be…" Sam held up his fingers and performed math that was a tad mind-numbing for him. "…seven?"
Dean nodded. "Yep." he agreed, then turned to Conner. "How's seven for you?" he asked.
The considerable amount of seconds that passed meant Conner mulled it over. "Seven is one of the holiest numbers in creation," he commented.
That was close enough to be a positive remark. "Great. He likes it. Congrats, Conner; you've just turned seven." said Dean, patting Conner on the shoulder.
With that settled, Dean plopped down onto the couch as a reward on a job well done. They were tired, yet not desperate enough to crave sleep. The three of them talked for a few minutes, just talked; it was actually quite nice to simply bask in each other's presence and not do anything else. They talked about the highlights of the day, debated which hotdog stand had the weirdest choice in relish, and enumerated to Conner the many uses of a glow-stick, which led to a lot of Star Wars references, which then led to each brother explaining what Star Wars was about, and that led to disagreements, and the disagreements led to intense rounds of rock-paper-scissors. Conner watched the heated matches with fascination, and the part that really made him into a captivated spectator was the fact that he was munching on his cupcake the whole time – a snack and a show.
By the time Dean and Sam ultimately settled for a tie, it was already late and the three of them were ready to hit the sack. The brothers got off the sofa and Conner fixed up his makeshift bed.
"Night, Conner!" Sam called out over his shoulder as he went to their bedroom.
"Goodnight." returned Conner.
Dean cleaned up the place a bit before following Sam to bed. While he was checking on the doors and windows, he saw that it was raining outside, not as mightily as last night, but it was still considered horrible weather. Thankfully, after waiting for a minute or so, there were not any thunder and lightning tonight.
He was on his way to the bedroom when he thought he should take a final glance at Conner: his friend had already tucked himself in and he was cuddling his orange monkey like the big sissy that he was. The blue light under the blanket meant that he was holding onto his glow-stick too, and the bump just below it indicated that the cardboard box was nearby as well.
In addition, Dean saw how wrapped up Conner actually was in his blanket, to the point that less than half his head was seen. He appeared so small like that, so vulnerable… and the rain making the living room chilly was not helping the picture either.
"You know, it's kinda cold out here." said Dean with hardly a second thought. "Why don't you sleep in our room tonight? 'Cuz it's your birthday and all." he added nonchalantly.
Conner opened his eyes and slowly sat up. "Really?" he asked.
"Just for tonight." affirmed Dean, shrugging. "I mean, if you don't wanna, that's fine and – "
"No, I want to." said Conner, and he still somehow managed to sound a tad nervous.
Dean smirked. "Alright, come on." he said. Conner gathered his stuff and went with Dean.
It was a single-bed, so two kids sleeping on it would be a little too snug for Dean's liking, but it was Conner and it was his birthday, and anyway, Dean offered it in the first place so he was in no position to complain. And it was not like he expected Conner to steal their valuables and run off, or do anything else that was unforgivable. Dean trusted him, enough to let him into their room where the silver blades, guns and 'monstrous' souvenirs were hidden.
As they put Conner's things on one side and Dean's on the other, their loud rustling woke Sam up and made him curious about what was going on.
"What's Conner doing here?" he asked groggily. "Is he having trouble sleeping?" he added upon noticing the rain.
"He's sleeping in our room tonight." said Dean.
That caused Sam to grin and he kicked his blanket off him. "Conner sandwich!" he proclaimed.
Dean sighed, and he was about to firmly announce that they will not be doing anything remotely similar to a slumber party when he learned that Sam and Conner were already dragging Sam's bed to the other end of the room to join with Dean's bed. Dean, of course, could simply tell them to push the bed back, albeit they were currently a quarter of the way there and returning it would be such a waste of effort. In the end, Dean helped put the beds together, making it explicitly clear that this was only for tonight.
Once the beds were beside each other, the three of them could not wait to get under the covers. Conner was in between Dean and Sam, and judging by Sam's repressed giggles and his feet squirming everywhere, it was obvious that he was excited by the novelty of the situation. Sure, he and Dean had spent some nights in one bed before (sometimes in even more cramped places), but it had always merely been the two of them; now they were three in the same room and their lives were a little less lonely.
"It's so warm here." murmured Conner, and Dean felt slightly guilty for not thinking of inviting Conner to their room sooner.
"Can we have a pillow fight?" inquired Sam optimistically.
"Not now." groaned Dean.
There was a shift throughout the beds as Conner probably turned to face Sam. "What's a pillow fight?" he asked.
"It's one of the funnest things ever! You gotta – "
"Guys. Go to sleep. It's been a long day." Dean interrupted. They had all been severely exhausted when they came through the door, and their workout with the bed generally used up their last drops of energy. Or at least Dean was convinced that he could not move another inch even if he wanted to; Sam and Conner seemed to have a bit more in them.
"Okay." said Sam after a while, and his tone told Dean that he had a bitch-face on.
Two minutes of silence went by and Dean was close to falling asleep…
"What're we doing tomorrow?" asked Sam.
"Sam," started Dean, aggravated.
"We're doing something tomorrow?" Conner joined in.
"Let's do something!" declared Sam as he bounced a little.
"Shut up. No one's doing anything until we wake up after nine." growled Dean. He forcefully turned to the wall, like if he just faced another direction, he can block out any unnecessary noise.
Another minute or so of quiet.
"But it's ten right now." Sam pointed out, playfully exploiting a loophole that should not even be a loophole.
"Sammy – " warned Dean.
"And we are awake," added Conner.
This was the last straw. Dean hastily sat up and glared at the two of them. "That's it! You guys want a pillow fight? Fine. If you don't go to sleep, I'll knock you both out!" he yelled.
The cozy atmosphere gave way to the feeling of a brutal battleground in less than two seconds.
TBC
