Disclaimer: Sad to say, I own nothing Supernatural.
Sam's POV:
I'll be honest, I don't really know what to do with time off. When I was a kid we never took any vacations. I mean we traveled, yeah, saw some sights and all, but vacation? Never. The spring break just after Jess and I moved in together we went to Sonoma Valley. Wine country, that was exciting. It was supposed to be relaxing. We were supposed to sleep 'til noon and then tour vineyards and then get drunk on good wine and make love all night. But I just can't sleep in past, well, eight. And leisurely strolls aren't really my thing. Neither is wine. The lovemaking didn't exactly go as planned either since I was less than cooperative with her other plans. She yelled about me being too Type A, said I didn't know how to relax. And I sat there and took it because, really, she was totally right. Like I said, I don't know how to vacation.
At some point we're supposed to head to the strip and party. Of course, I'm not too great at that either. I can see it now. I'll lose all my money in about the first ten minutes and Dean'll get wasted and accidentally marry a stripper. Actually, that scenario might turn out to be kinda entertaining.
Anyway, I guess my inability to just – how would Dean put it? – chill? I guess that's why I'm sitting here at seven in the morning watching cartoons with a six-year-old. Not that she's the worst company I could have.
"I don't get it."
"What?" she asks me, her face all scrunched up, mouth full of Pop Tart.
"These cartoons." I don't really know what it is we're watching, but whatever it is has a lot of flash and not too much substance. "I mean, whatever happened to Transformers or ThunderCats?" Seriously? Did I just say that? She swallows hard and looks at me like I'm crazy. I stifle a laugh and turn away. "So," I say to change the subject, "was that you I heard screaming bloody murder last night?"
"Bloody murder?"
"It's just an expression."
"Oh." She sinks back into the couch and lets out a long sigh. "Yeah," she says wearily and I try not to laugh. She reminds me of a resigned old man. "There's a mad scientist living under my bed."
Huh? "A what now?"
"Mad scientist." She looks at me and I look at her, and that's how we sit for I don't know how long, just studying each other. I'm not too sure what she's picking up from me, but I'm getting a definite 'weird kid' vibe. Not the kind of weird kid that spells trouble or anything, just the kind that never talks to other kids at school but always apologizes – out loud – to furniture when she walks into it. It's just a feeling.
"Hey, you two. Whatcha doing?" We both glance up at the same time and watch as Dean flops into a nearby chair, leans over and grabs a handful of Lucky Charms out of the box. "Ooo, Toad Patrol," he says, looking at the TV. "I didn't know this was still on."
Ladies and Gentlemen, my brother, the 27-year-old cartoon aficionado. "Shouldn't you be in bed still? You know it's not quite noon."
"Sammy please, I've been on the road with you for a year. Staying in bed 'til seven or eight is like sleeping half the day away. You've ruined me."
So true. "So sorry."
He shoves another handful of cereal in his mouth before offering the box to Callie. And then she sends it my way. And I hand it back to Dean. And we all watch what is apparently a cartoon about toads, which does actually explain a lot. And we eat Lucky Charms until my fingers graze the bottom and come up with nothing but crumbs. "So, what's on the agenda today, kids?" he asks as soon as the commercial break starts. Callie and I look at each other and both shrug. "Wow, you two are just a barrel of laughs, ya know that?"
"Well, what do you suggest?" I can't believe I just asked that.
He rolls back his eyes and purses his lips like some kind of idiot. People are supposed to be able to think without looking like a caricature for crying out loud. Of course Callie laughs at his bizzaro expression. I wonder if that's why he's doing it, just to amuse her. I wonder if that's why he always does stuff like that around me. At one time it did make me laugh, and, really, that was the time I needed laughter most.
"You know anything about mad scientists?" I hear myself say, not sure why. He looks at me like I'm nuts but Callie explains.
"I have one living under my bed."
"A mad scientist?"
"Yeah, I don't know what he does under there, but it sure does bug me."
"How so?" Aw, man, I knew I shouldn't have said anything. Now he's got that look, that we-may-be-on-to-something-here look. Damn it.
"Oh, you know," she says, pulling her legs up under her, "always scratching and making noise and stuff."
"Under your bed." She nods. "What about in the walls, any scratching there?"
"Uh, how would he get in the walls?" She throws her hands up in a 'duh' gesture. Man, they learn that young these days. Remember when little kids used to just be cute and sweet? Dean actually looks genuinely hurt for a sec, having his intelligence questioned by a first grader. But as usual, he recovers quickly. Or at least he pretends to.
"Callie, have you ever seen this mad scientist?" he asks, and she shakes her head no.
"But he grabbed my foot last night."
"He did?"
"Yeah, when I got out of bed, he reached out from under it and grabbed me." Here's the thing with kids, they have super active imaginations. "I got away though." One minute they're pushing their imaginary friend on a swing, the next they're serving tea to a stuffed dolphin. "He had really little hands, so it's not like he could hold on." And to them, that friend is actually talking to them, telling them 'higher, higher', and that dolphin slurped down every last drop of tea.
"Huh." But that doesn't mean they're real.
"Callie, why don't you go see if there's any more cereal?" She scurries off and I turn to Dean. "She had a dream."
"A recurring dream?"
"Yeah, maybe."
"And this dream was going on while she was climbing out of bed?"
"Dean, come on, man. Kids have things living under their beds all the time."
"Yeah, I know."
"No, I mean, they imagine it all the time. It's make believe."
"Come on, Sammy, you really believe that?" Uh, yeah. When I was Callie's age and I told Dad there was something in my closet…there wasn't anything in my closet. I know because one night I held on super tight to the gun he gave me, and I looked. Nothing. Hey, I admit, a lot of this stuff is real, but not most. Even Dean knows that. "I'm gonna check it out."
He gets up and heads for the stairs just as Callie enters with a box of Cheerios. "You're going in unarmed?" I ask, and he turns around, shoots me a dirty look.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm gonna go have a talk with that mad scientist of yours."
"Really?" she asks, her face splitting with what could only be described as glee. "Can I come?" He says nothing but waves her on and they bound up the stairs together.
I guess I shouldn't be angry, or surprised. So Dean's always looking for the supernatural in the everyday, so what? It's his job, or it was. So he, apparently, doesn't know how to relax and have a carefree vacation either. Big deal.
But then again it kind of is. I mean, what happens when he actually finds something, something maybe he can't handle, and I'm gone, and so is Dad? What happens when he goes looking where he shouldn't and no one's there to get his back? What happens when he's all alone?
Back in that asylum, back when Ellicot, possessed him or whatever, he said some things to me. Some not nice things. I know it wasn't really him. Not really. But what he said, about me being a selfish asshole, and an ungrateful jerk, that still came from a place of truth. Just because Ellicot made him say it, doesn't mean he wasn't thinking it. Truth is, as soon as those words came out of his mouth I knew they were valid. And I care, I do. And I'm sorry, really I am. But I just can't be his backup my whole life.
I know he knows that. I know he knows I want more for myself. But I want more for him too. I want him to be happy. I want him to find a niche in life. I want him to have a life. He's my big brother and he always will be, but, man, why can't he let himself be more than just that? As scared as I am that he might get himself into trouble hunting alone, what scares me most, honestly, is thinking about him being on his own at all. Because, really, I don't think Dean has a clue who he is without me.
A/N: Don't know if I mentioned this, but I truly thrive on reviews, just call me needy.