AN: This isn't the story I was working on, or the one I'm supposed to be working on. But neither of those are coming out at all.
This has bits and pieces from different prompts or requests, so I hope it's coherent at the end! I will share exactly what prompts and inspirations at the end of the story.
Takes place partly when the boys are 4 and 8, and partly in season two.
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Dean was used to the attack of hurricane Sammy every time he came home from school. No matter that he was in third grade now -- his little brother still always acted like he hadn't seen Dean in a week. Dean had to brace himself as he opened the door each day, because otherwise he might be bowled over as Sammy launched himself like a torpedo, confident that Dean wouldn't let him fall.
Dean loved it. He was happy to indulge the four-year-old with as many hugs as he needed.
But today, the greeting was a little muted. Oh, he still found himself wrapped in octopus boy, but Sammy hadn't screamed his name. And when Dean went to set him down, Sammy briefly tightened his arms before reluctantly letting Dean put him down. Then he yawned widely.
Dean put a hand to Sam's forehead the way Dad did when he was worried about a fever. "You sick or somethin', bud?" asked Dean half to himself.
"Nope," insisted the younger boy, probably because he thought being forced to take medicine was cruel and unusual punishment.
Dean frowned. Sam didn't feel warm. "Dad, did Sammy eat lunch?" Dean asked, even though he wasn't really wasn't supposed to bother him while he was working.
"Yup. He ate plenty," responded Dad, a little absently. He was rebuilding a lawn mower engine and Dean fought down the urge to join him and ask questions about how it worked. While Dad liked teaching him, Sammy would never be content with that. Besides, Dean felt like something was just a little off with his brother.
Sammy was driving toy cars around, and he looked okay to Dean's eyes, though tired. On cue, Sam yawned again. On his fourth birthday, Sam had declared that he was too big to take a nap every day, but today he sure looked like he could use one. If Dean told him to take one, Sam would balk. Luckily, big brother knew just what to do.
Dean climbed up on the ratty old couch. "Hey, Sammy, I got a new Batman comic to read. Wanna hear it?" He laughed as Sam was on the couch next to him almost before he finished talking. Anything Dean liked, Sam liked too. The thought made Dean feel warm inside.
Dean pointed to the first panel. "See, Batman's up on that building looking over the city cuz he knows the bad guys are up to somethin' big. They've been too quiet, ya know?"
Soon, Sam had gone from sitting next to Dean to curled on his lap. Dean kept reading and rubbed circles on Sam's back, a technique guaranteed to send the kid to sleep.
"Why are you so tired, kiddo?" Dean whispered after Sam's eyes had closed.
"Cuz of the knocking at night when I wanna sleep," said Sam, more asleep than awake.
Knocking? Dean knew Sam's sleep had been restless for the last two nights since they shared a bed, but he hadn't heard any knocking. He'd have to pay attention tonight. He was glad it was the start of Christmas break so he could stay home and keep an eye on the munchkin and make sure nothing was going on with him.
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
"Why do people live in Minnesota?" Dean complained for at least the fifth time in the last hour, slowing the car even more in deference to the heavy snow.
"Actually, we're in Wisconsin now," answered Sam mildly. "And it's very beautiful, maybe just not in December."
"Why do people visit Minnesota in December?"
"Wisconsin."
"Frozen tundra, all of it. Snow makin' us go slow, salt gettin' all up in my baby's undercarriage, everyone bundled up so much you can't tell a hot chick from a fat old man..."
Sam bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling at Dean's grumbling. He knew it was for his benefit, but he also knew Dean would see it as a victory if he got a smile out of his brother. Sam appreciated the effort, though, more than he could say. Things had definitely been more strained between them since Dad...
"Maybe you'll find a chilly lady who wants to cuddle in front of the fire," Sam suggested.
Dean cocked his head like a dog that had heard the word treat. "Hmmm...on a bearskin rug maybe..." He shook his head. "It doesn't need to be this damn cold for that." He scowled out at the snow again. "You wanna share why we're here?"
Sam winced internally. When he'd told Dean that he'd found a case, the latter had been distracted by a curvy redhead. And he'd been hungover when Sam packed up their room. He'd even slept in the car for the first few hours of the trip. And, yeah, Sam had been putting off telling Dean just what was happening in Kanawassee, Wisconsin. "Yeah," he said slowly. "Kids are going missing. Just walking out of their houses in the middle of the night through doors that should have been locked, that they wouldn't have been able to open on their own."
"What age kids?" asked Dean, the tightness of his voice reflecting how Sam felt.
Sam sighed soundlessly. "From 2 to 6."
Despite the swirling snow, Dean accelerated.
The mood in the diner was somber, though it had a warm, cozy feel and the food smelled amazing. Sam knew that the disappearances were casting a pall over the little town. In a place this small, everyone probably had some connection to the three worried families.
"What brings you two to Kanawassee?" asked middle aged waitress with a nametag that read Susan. She smiled congenially, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Dean flipped his cup over. "Actually, we're here to see if we can help find the missing kids." He gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "We're from the FBI and are here to offer the police our help."
"Oh!" Her already kind face softened. "I'm sure they'll be glad to have any extra hands on the job. I mean, Chief Larsen does a great job. He's just torn up about it -- we all are."
"I'm sure he's doing everything he can." Sam didn't have to fake his sympathy. "We're just here to give him some more resources." He knew the reasons Dean was being so kind: first, because it was kids, second, because a diner like this was a great place to get some information. Chances were good that the cops would already know they were there before they ever made it to the station.
"Well, we're certainly glad to have you, and I'm sure the chief will feel the same way," said Susan, her smile more genuine now. "If you need some food, you better order now. Charlie's gonna turn the grill off pretty soon. I'm surprised you came this late and through the snow."
Sam caught Dean's amused look. Only in a town this small would 9pm be considered late. "We wanted to get started as soon as we could," Sam told her.
The food was good, and Susan was a wealth of information, though none of it was terribly helpful until she mentioned that there was a possible witness, a 10-year whose 3-year-old brother was one of the missing.
"Jenna's traumatized, poor thing," Susan sighed. "She's just convinced it's her fault little Zach's missing." She blinked away tears. "Older siblings can be so protective, you know."
Sam didn't look at Dean. "Yeah, I've heard that."
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AN: Kanawassee is a made up place.
I'm not trying to be a needy author, but I would especially love feedback on this one because I'm not sure it's terribly compelling. I'm not fishing for compliments, just honest reviews, positive or negative, to help me decide if I should continue or just delete it and go back to a different project. Thank you! Muah!
