Another quarantine piece. I have a Wee!Chesters fic for you guys. Something I cooked up over the past couple of days. I'll say Shay and Dean are about 15 or 16 here, meaning Sam's about 11 or 12, but as I'm typing this I'm not certain if he'll be making an appearance or not. Just a little peek at what a training session with John might look like. This fic isn't for pro-John folks. CW: John uses the word 'pussy' in a derogatory manner.

'Duck, block… punch, elbow, knee – no, sidestep – fuck!'

Shay growled lowly as Dean's fist collided with the right side of her jaw, just an inch or so away from the corner of her lips. Her head snapped back with the force of it, John never had them pull their punches when they sparred, and she lost her balance. The ground came up in a rush, and she barely managed to catch herself with her hands before she could hit it face first.

'Welp, that's 3-1 in Dean's favor…' Shay raised a hand to her mouth, growling lowly at the pain. The inside of her mouth was bleeding, probably bit the skin at some point, and the coppery taste was flooding her taste buds. She shook her head to clear it, inwardly swearing when she caught her father shaking his head in her peripheral.

Her brother was standing over her, blocking out the sun with his head. The light formed a corona around his head, making the bits of blond highlights in his hair seem to glow. He had a hand out to help her up, but she barely registered it, too focused on reordering her thoughts so they could keep going. No way in hell John was gonna let them stop until… well, until he was satisfied.

Shay turned her head to spat the mouthful of bloody saliva out onto the dusty ground, slapping the hand Dean offered away in favor of levering herself up on her own. The right side of her jaw was throbbing, she could feel the blood rushing to the area as it began to swell. By the time the sun went down, she'd have one hell of a bruise around her mouth… and one hell of a story to make up when she got to school the next day.

'Nothing new when you're growing up Winchester.'

"Go again. You're quicker than that, Shay," John scrutinized his daughter coolly, "next time it won't be Dean comin' at you, it'll be whatever monster you're hunting. Gotta be fast unless you wanna end up dead."

Shay bit the inside of her lip hard enough to draw blood to keep from rolling her eyes and letting a sarcastic retort fly out of her mouth. It wouldn't take much to bring out John's bad side, and she wasn't in the mood to deal that and whatever lecture her twin would have ready come bedtime. Dean was still eyeing her with concern, but she ignored him, instead shifting into her preferred stance and raising her arms.

Dean sighed inaudibly when his sister's eyes went flinty, knowing she was back in the zone and there'd be no getting through to her until they were done. He shifted his own feet, settling into his own stance and letting a mask of indifference take over his face. John gave the signal, and they were at it again.

*S*S*S*S*

Shay twisted and contorted her body, slipping out of the grapple hold Dean had her in and punched him in the jaw. She rolled to her feet and danced back, barely avoiding the sweep of his arm as he tried to trip her up. Dean rolled back up to his feet, hands up and ready to fly, and started circling. Shay mirrored him, keeping her eyes trained on his face.

The sun was low in the sky, just beginning to disappear beyond the horizon. It made their shadows stretch over the dusty ground as if they were giants. John stood with his back to the light, a corona of flame outlining his silhouette as he barked critiques at them.

No matter how good either of them did during training, John was always critical.

"Keep your hands up, Shay! Guard your middle! Don't start slacking on defense now!"

"I know you can hit harder than that, Dean! Stop treating her like your sister, don't show her any mercy! Monsters sure as hell won't!"

"Stand up and fight, Shailene! Your brother didn't even hit you that hard!"

"Stop pulling your punches, Dean! Shay can take it, stop being a pussy and swing!"

By the time the night fell, the twins were panting like dehydrated dogs and dripping in sweat. The humidity in the air cancelled out the sweet relief of sundown.

Shay had a pair of bruises, one next to and slightly above her left eye and the other right beneath it to go with the one on the right side of her jaw, her ribs were screaming bloody murder after Dean got a couple of lucky pot shots in on them, and her left ankle was throbbing. Her brother had swiped her legs from underneath her and she'd landed awkwardly on her left foot instead of hitting the ground.

Dean was more or less unscathed above the neck… other than his swollen bottom lip. Judging by the way he was hunched in, elbows tucked close, Shay had done a number on his ribs and torso, and he was also favoring his left leg.

"Alright," John spoke up as Shay went to strike, stopping her halfway, "that's enough. We'll pick it up tomorrow." He turned on his heel, military sharp, and started making his way back to the Impala, leaving his two child soldiers in his wake.

"Yessir." Dean was quick to follow him, as usual, but Shay lagged behind, grumbling expletives under her breath as she limped to the car.

One day she'd leave. God help her, she would. She'd give her old man the finger, get out from under his thumb and become her own person. She didn't want to leave her brothers behind with John, let him do to Sammy what he'd already done to Dean and was trying to do to her, but she didn't know how much more of this she could take.

*S*S*S*S*

Sammy was still awake when they got back to the motel, despite John telling him that he'd better be in bed when they returned... Not that it mattered. The Winchester patriarch lingered for all of five seconds before leaving in search of the nearest bar. The wiry preteen was all smiles and hugs as he greeted his older siblings. Dean ruffled his curly brown locks before nosing past him on his way to the sofa, "first shower's all yours, Shay."

"Thanks." Shay responded, opening her arms when her little brother approached, "Heya, Sammy Long Legs." She kissed the top of his head, his hair was a little damp and he smelled of soap, "finished your homework and showered, yeah?" He nodded eagerly, throwing his bony arms around her middle. She bit her lip to keep from wincing when her ribs protested, threading her fingers through her little brother's hair and dropping her forehead to rest on top of his head. He was growing quickly, the top of his head was almost level with her shoulders.

"Shay," Sam chirped, looking up at her with concern, "your face is all bruised…" she chuckled mirthlessly, dropping another kiss on his head, "it was a tough training sesh, hon. I'm gonna go shower, go ahead and get in the bed. It is a school night after all, kiddo." Sam sighed, "you guys never let me stay up."

"Damn right we don't, Sam," Dean called from the couch, "we want you to make somethin' of yourself, kid. One day you'll look back and thank us for staying on your scrawny ass. Listen to Shay, get in the bed." Shay extricated herself from Sam's arms and dragged her duffle out from beneath the bed closest to the door, retrieved her pajamas and pair of underwear, and headed into the bathroom, "if you're not in the bed when I get out of the shower, I'm not putting in a good word with Dad to get you on the next hunt."

Dean threw his head back and guffawed, while Sam's eyes went wide and he dove into the bed furthest from the motel door. Shay chuckled and pushed the door closed behind her, muffling Sam's indignant cries for Dean to shut up, as well as Dean's chuckles growing in volume. Her smile waned when she turned to face the dingy mirror and saw the mottled bruising and swelling all over her face.

It's gonna look like tonight was 'Fight Night at the Winchesters' in the morning. Might have to buy some makeup to cover this shit up.

The last time they went to school with their faces bruised to hell and back, they ended up having to leave that town that night to avoid police involvement. John had been pissed, his face flushed red as he yelled at them while driving nearly twice the speed limit leaving the city limits. Sam was upset, he'd really liked his teachers at the school in the town, and ended up giving both his older siblings the silent treatment for nearly two weeks afterwards despite their attempts to gain his forgiveness.

Shay peeled her sweat-soaked t-shirt away from her skin and over her head, cringing as her ribs screamed in protest, and tossed it to the floor. She twisted and turned in front of the little mirror, surveying the splotches of bruising forming on both sides of her ribcage. They were still a rich pinkish red in color now, but they'd be purple and blue by the time morning rolled around. She hooked her thumbs beneath the waistband of her sweats and pushed them down, revealing more bruising on her left leg, starting just below her knee and growing in intensity around her ankle… which was swollen nearly three times its size. Great.

The young blonde hobbled over to the tub, speckled with spots of rust, and turned on the shower, praying fervently that there'd be hot water this time. The faucet screeched in protest as she turned the rusted knob for the hot water as far as it could go, and the cold less than half that. Somebody up top must've been smiling down on her tonight, because, after a few minutes of waiting, steam started to billow out of the tub and fill the tiny room with moist heat.

Shay shrugged out of her sports bra and panties and climbed into the tub. She turned her back to the hot spray, the water pressure left much to be desired but she wasn't about complain, and let it sluice over her back to soothe her muscles. She breathed a sigh of relief, lost in the sound of the dull roar of the water leaving the rusty showerhead and the pitter patter of it hitting the tub, and let her eyes slip closed.

Clearly she'd lost track of time because the next thing she knew, Dean was beating on the door and calling her name, and the water was starting to go lukewarm. Blinking rapidly to wake herself back up, Shay made quick work of scrubbing herself down, washing her hair, rinsing herself and turning the water off.

"About damn time." Dean called, annoyance in his voice, "thought I was gonna end up goin' to bed stewing in my own juices."

"Let me get dressed and brush my teeth, then it's all yours. I'm sorry." Shay wasn't really sorry, but the words were more for Dean's benefit than anything. She grabbed one of the two remaining large white towels and squeezed the left over water out of her hair before sponging her body off and wrapping herself in the towel. She flicked the switch for the vent to get the steam to clear up so she could see herself in the mirror, inwardly cringing at the annoying click the old fan made.

I just want to sleep. God, I'm tired…

Once Shay was dressed and brushed, she tossed her used towel on top of her dirty clothing, piled in a corner of the bathroom, and exited the tiny space. Dean was sitting on the bed Sam was tucked in, snoozing away, and looked up the moment she emerged. He jumped up and grabbed her hand before she could brush past him, tugging her to a gentle stop. She turned to look at him curiously, eyelids drooping from her exhaustion, "Dean?"

"I just wanna… I'm sorry, Bug," Dean spoke quickly, cramming his words into a single breath, "I-I just wanted you to know—"

"Hey," Shay shushed her brother, placing a finger against his lips, "it's okay. I understand, it's not like Dad gave us a choice. I'm sorry, too." She looked down at his swollen lip and smiled warmly, "get your shower, D." she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before sending him on his way. She could sense that he wanted to defend their father's actions, as per usual, but knew that it wasn't the time and they were too tired to get into it.

"G'night."

"Night."

"Better not have used all the hot water."

Shay rolled her eyes and waved her brother off, padding across the room to check the salt lines and the warding. When she was certain that nothing of the supernatural variety would be able to break in, she slid the chain lock into place and checked the deadbolt. Deeming them safe from any and all outside threats short of someone with a bazooka or grenade launcher, she sauntered over to the bed Sammy was in and crawled under the covers. Her little brother snuffled softly as she got situated but didn't wake, and Shay leaned over to check on him before letting her head hit the pillow. The dull roar of Dean's shower, muffled by the walls but still audible, lulled her into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

Just a little look into pre-show life for the Winchesters. I'm not a hundred percent okay with it as is, but I think it's okay to post. Hope you enjoyed it.

*~*CloudSpires1295*~*