Hello fabulous beautiful SPN Family! Hope you're all doing well. Not gonna talk much here (I know, thank Chuck). This is a requested story from sjwmaw- She asked to see what would happen if Natalie was misbehaving, and how Dean would react in that parental role. So here you go! I hope you like it, sjwmaw! Thanks for being such a great support system! To the others who have requested stories, they're all in my queue- I'll get to them, I promise! Thanks for being patient.
Speaking of support systems, you all know that I can't do this without Jenmm31- Sammy to my Dean-o. Thanks girl, for everything.
You know the drill! Read, Review, and Enjoy! Hugs, Pie, and a Chevy Impala to all of you!
A/N- in this story, Natalie is 4 years old. Please see profile page for disclaimer.
Dean's fingers were flying over the screen of his cell phone. His mind was a steel trap as he wound through page after page of pointless jibber and jabber, searching for that one sentence- maybe even the one word- that could lead to cracking this case wide open. Every fiber of his being was tuned into the words on the screen as he scrolled through them, searching. Well- almost every fiber. One fiber of his being was very, very much aware of something else. The four year old staring at him incessantly with wide, focused, bright green eyes.
Out of his periphery, he saw Natalie tilt her head, studying him. No- to be more precise, studying his phone. Ever since she was a baby, the sound of clicking keyboards drew her like a moth to a flame. She was going through a phase right now where all she wanted to do was play with his and Sam's phones. She was fascinated by the pictures, the apps, the games, and the sheer joy of lifting the contraband item off her father or uncle. If Dean would have let her, she could have been absorbed for hours when she had a phone in her little paws, but it never got that far. She knew she wasn't supposed to take their phones; she was only allowed to play with them when Dean or Sam gave her permission. But that didn't stop her from wanting and trying to get them every second of the day.
Dean turned slightly away from her, trying to hide his phone from her view, as if that would hold her off. She simply walked around so she was facing him again. He turned completely away from her, which prompted her to climb up on the bed to stay in his line of sight. Dean sighed, and lowered the phone down. As he expected, her greedy eyes followed it. He snapped his fingers twice, prompting her to look up, startled, as if she had just noticed he was there.
"Can I help you?" Dean said with the patience of a saint.
"Can I please play on the phone?" Natalie said, using her sweetest voice. Dean briefly closed his eyes. Just long enough to reset his patience level, then he opened them again.
"No, Natalie. I'm using it right now."
"But you've been using it all day."
"Because my laptop isn't working. I told you this. You need to listen to me, kiddo."
"Yes, sir. Can I play with it now?"
Dean set the phone face down on the bed, reached out, and picked her straight up. He walked towards the other side of the room, then deposited her on the worn out sofa that was smashed up against the dull dark green wall of their motel room. He bent over so he was looking her right in the face.
"No, you cannot play with my phone while I am working. You stay here and color. Or play with your toy soldiers. Hell, watch cartoons, I don't care. But," he made sure the four year old was paying attention. "No phone. Understood?"
Natalie gulped once, and whispered, "Yes, sir."
Dean nodded approvingly, and stood up. "Good girl," he said. "So. You want crayons or cartoons?" She shrugged half heartedly, indicating that neither option was what she really wanted. Hoping to distract her, Dean picked up the remote, and handed it to her. "Here. Go nuts. No skin flicks."
"Dean!" Sam scolded, looking up from his laptop. He had taken up residence at the small table right by the front door. The motel was very small as motels go- only one hallway of rooms, and their room had the added feature of a sliding glass door at the other end, showing off the weed infested back parking lot. Sam was far enough away from the glare of the door, and had his lore books spread out all over the table. To Dean, he looked like he was creating a big, dorky nest.
"What? She doesn't know what that is," Dean threw at him. Sam just shook his head, and went back to his laptop. Dean looked back at his daughter; sure enough, the TV had captured her attention. "Hey!" he exclaimed excitedly when he saw what she had flipped to. "Batman!" He grinned proudly at her. "That's my girl." Natalie looked up and giggled at him, causing his heart to expand just a little bit. Confident that he had put that little fire out, he walked back to his bed, picked up his phone, and resumed searching. The creature that he and Sam were hunting was proving very difficult to pin down, and his laptop being on the fritz wasn't helping matters at all. He continued scrolling, searching for that one piece of information that would unlock the mystery. Dean tuned out the sounds of the TV and focused.
After about half an hour, Sam finally cleared his throat. "Dude," he said. "Check it out. I found something." Dean instantly dropped his phone, sprang off his bed, and walked over towards his brother. Sam looked up at Dean with a heavy sigh. "I think it's a Zin."
"Isn't that when you're all peaceful and meditating and crap?"
"Not Zen, Dean. Zin."
"Okay, so what's Zin then?"
"Well, according to this website, it's an African spirit that's reminiscent of a Djinn."
"That can't be good."
"Exactly. This one, however, dwells in the water. Same kind of mind manipulation and destruction, though. It travels through the water to get where it wants to go."
"That explains the puddles we found around the body-"
"-and also why all the pipes in town keep bursting."
"Nice job, Sammy," Dean complimented, slapping Sam on the back. "So how do we gank the bastard?"
Sam's eyes shifted back to the laptop. "Haven't found anything on that yet."
Dean nodded, expecting as much. Of course, it could never be that easy. "I'll see if I can find anything. Hopefully, we just sneak up behind its ass and stab it." Dean spread his arms wide. "Just how I like 'em." Sam chuckled and shook his head as Dean trotted back towards the bed. He looked down on the bed to grab his phone and continue the research, but it wasn't there. He swore he had just tossed it down before going over to look at the laptop. He searched his pockets quickly- nothing. He pushed the bedclothes around- nothing. He shook out the pillows- nothing. Then he realized that from the couch he was hearing- nothing. He turned around to see the TV still on, but the four year old nowhere in sight. He gritted his teeth. Damn, she could move like a freaking ninja when she wanted to.
His eyes started scanning the room slowly. Bathroom door was still open, so she wasn't hiding in the bathtub. None of the cabinet doors in the kitchenette were ajar, so she hadn't hidden in one of them. Suddenly, a tiny movement caught his eye. Behind the curtain, right next to the screen door. A very small, blue princess sock-clad toe was peeping out from underneath the faded drapery. Dean let out something akin to a growling sigh, and made his way over towards the curtain. Without any preamble, he yanked it back. Sure enough, there she was, crouching as small as she could go, her back against the wall, the phone in her hand, and an incredibly guilty look on her face. Dean felt his own face harden into a stern mask.
"Natalie," he said in his full on you're dead meat voice. "Get out here. Now." Without hesitation, the four year old scrambled up from the floor and took a hesitant step forward out of the curtain. Dean just crossed his arms over his chest and gave his daughter The Eye. After four years, he was getting pretty good at it too. Natalie immediately started twisting her foot into the carpet, like she was trying to squash a bug- her usual response when she knew she was in trouble.
"Natalie, are you allowed to play with my phone without my permission?" Dean asked her sternly.
"No," she muttered towards the ground. That wasn't going to fly with Dean.
"Eyes up," he commanded. He always insisted that she look him right in the eye when she was in trouble. It was something John had always made the boys do, and Dean had found himself grateful for that training more than once. It gave him the confidence he needed to fake his way through a difficult situation, or know how to keep eye contact with someone who was proving to be a difficult witness. He watched his daughter squirm again for a moment, then raise her eyes to look at him. Once her green eyes connected with his and saw the anger in them, she let out a tiny whimper and squirmed again, but she didn't drop her gaze. "Now, we're gonna try this again. Are you allowed to play with my phone without my permission?"
"No, sir," she squeaked out, violently twisting her foot into the carpet.
"That's better. And what happens when you disobey me, like you just did?" Her face twisted when he said those words, into a pleading glance. But Dean wasn't letting her off the hook- they had been through this too many times. She knew better, and he was determined to stomp out this misbehavior of hers.
"Time Out," she said miserably, knowing that she couldn't get out of it- not when Daddy gave his infamous lead in. Dean nodded.
"Damn straight. Come on." He could hear Natalie dragging her feet, but walking behind him. He walked over towards the table where Sam was sitting. Without his eyes ever leaving the screen of his laptop, Sam pushed one of the chairs away from the table towards his brother, knowing that that was what Dean was going for. They were so used to the Time Out routine by now that they had it down pat. Dean swung the chair into the corner, and then turned around to face the four year old with the frowning scowl on her face. "Hey," he barked at her, not appreciating the attitude she was exuding. She twisted her foot into the carpet again, looking down, but not saying a word. "You don't wanna do the time, then don't do the crime. Simple as that. Give me the phone." Natalie handed it up to him abashedly. He reached down and plucked it out of her hand. "Now get in the chair."
"Yes, sir," she muttered, hauling herself up into the seat and facing the corner of the room.
"That's better," Dean said regarding her compliance. He turned on the timer on his phone- it was always set at five minutes now, anyways. He sighed, frustrated, to himself, looking at the back of her little head pouting in the corner. She was a good kid- hell she was a great kid- the vast majority of the time. She never protested when it came to Sam making her eat her vegetables, or taking a bath, or even being quiet in public situations when they needed her to be. She was a little angel. But when it came to the phone, or going to sleep, it was like she was a different person. She was obsessed with electronic gadgets, and neither Sam nor Dean could figure out why. She could figure out the lock screen codes just by watching their fingers move once over the screen. One time, she managed to turn the language on Sam's phone from English to Russian. Dean had found that absolutely hilarious at the time, but not so much when he discovered that his own phone had been changed to Portuguese. They had a couple games on their phones that they did keep on there for her, just as a Hail Mary in case there was no other entertainment to be had, and only to be played with permission. They had been very clear from Day One that she wasn't allowed to play with them without their permission. When she had been told that about practically anything else, she obeyed without question. But the devil came out when it came to their phones. Dean shook his head, wondering if he would ever understand why. As he crossed back to his bed, Sam spoke up again, his eyes never leaving his laptop.
"You're not gonna do the whole "five minutes, no talking" speech?" he asked his brother. Dean shrugged.
"She can recite it to herself by now. She knows what she did was wrong." He walked back over and sat down on the bed, looking up Zins and ways to kill them. Five minutes later, when his alarm went off, he slipped his phone into his pocket. He didn't want to put any more temptation in the kid's way. "Natalie," he commanded from his bed. "Come here." He saw her reluctantly slip sideways out of her chair. He searched her face as she slunk over to him. All the defiance that was there a few minutes ago was now gone. Dean internally heaved a sigh of relief, eternally grateful to whoever came up with Time Out and the fact that it actually worked on his kid. Natalie walked right up in front of him, knowing the drill by this point. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, getting right at eye level with her. He reached out and touched her chin, which she knew was the signal for "eyes up". He was strict with her when it came to understanding and owning up to what she did. After a Time Out, he always made her standing facing him, looking him right in the eye, while they talked about what she did. Dean remembered John doing the exact same thing to him whenever he had gotten in trouble, but he also remembered John never giving him a chance to explain himself. He still remembered a couple times when he wished that John would have let him tell his side of the story. He was determined to hear what Natalie had to say for herself.
"Alright, squirt. What did you do wrong."
"I took your phone while you were still using it."
"Right. Are you allowed to do that?"
"No, sir."
"Anything else to say for yourself?"
"No, sir."
He leaned forward further, making sure he had her full attention. "Listen up. We've been through this a hundred times. I don't know what it is that's causing it to not sink it, but you will stop taking my phone from me, especially when I'm using it. Do I make myself clear?"
She swallowed hard, but her gaze didn't waver. "Yes, sir," she said quietly.
Dean nodded approvingly, sending up a quick prayer that this was the time that it would stick. Even though it wasn't all that difficult to discipline her, he still hated having to do it. He hated that sad look in her eyes, how uncomfortable she was when he was scolding her, and he HATED making her sit in Time Out, because he knew she despised it. But she was his kid, and he was going to be damned if he let her grow up into a disrespectful little brat that seemed to be the norm these days. Not to mention, he saw this as investing in her hunter's training. She had to learn to obey him and do what he said at all times if she ever wanted to go out onto the field with him. There was no way he'd ever let her out into the supernatural world unless he was one hundred percent sure she'd follow his every command. His eyes softened at the petulant child in front of him. He reached out and ruffled her hair.
"Good girl. Now go play," he said, turning her around and giving her a gentle swat on the bottom to get her moving. She flattened her hair down with her hands as she trotted back towards the TV. Batman was over by now, and she wasn't crazy about the next line up of cartoons, so she started flipping through the channels. He made his way back to the table that Sam was still diligently working at, and sat down in the chair opposite of his brother. Sam finally looked away from his laptop towards his niece, still dispassionately flipping through the channels. He just shook his head at her, smiling.
"What?" Dean asked. Sam focused back on him.
"Nothing. It's just...you'd think she'd have learned by now."
Dean snorted. "Tell me about it. I've lost track of the number of times she's stolen my phone."
"Should we...you know... get her a phone that she can play with or something?" Dean just stared at Sam like he had suddenly expressed a desire to become a prima ballerina.
"You been drinking the Kool-Aid? What the hell, Sam? You want me to get the four year old a cell phone?"
"Of course not a real phone, Dean. Like a toy one. Maybe that'll keep her away from our phones."
"Nothin' doing. The second she realizes that you can't program apps into anything from Playskool, that thing will go flying across the room."
Sam sighed and shrugged, but he knew Dean was right. Having no answer to the cell phone thief problem, Sam handed Dean a thick leather bound novel. Dean took it with a grimace, dropping it heavily on to the table in front of him. He fished his phone out of his pocket and set it in the center of the table so he could keep an eye on the time. Before he was even willing to crack the book open though, he got up from the table and made his way over towards the refrigerator. He pulled out two cold cans of beer, tucked them under his arm, and then looked behind him at his kid.
"Hey squirt, you thirsty?" he asked Natalie.
"Beer me!" she said, popping up and giggling. Dean grinned at her words. Damn straight he'd taught her that. He grabbed a juice box before closing the door. Sam huffed in indignation.
"Dean, you gotta stop letting her say that," he scolded. Dean sauntered over to the couch, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.
"Aw, come on Sammy, it's hilarious," he said, chuckling and poking the straw into the juice box before handing it over to the kid.
"Thank you!" she said, before picking up the remote and beginning the channel surfing again. Dean ruffled her hair proudly before walking back towards the table.
"Yeah. And what do you think is going to happen when she says that on her first day of kindergarten?" Sam continued, pressing Dean to get the answer he wanted. However, Dean just pointed a finger in his brother's face in warning.
"Hey- no talking about that. Not dealing with that now. We got bigger fish to fry."
"Dean..."
Cutting Sam off, Dean held up one can of beer threateningly. "So help me, I will take this beer right back to the fridge," he said in a mock "dad" voice. Sam just rolled his eyes, making Dean's grin reappear. He put the can on the table beside his brother. "Good boy."
"Shut up."
The two of them got back down to work, flipping through old weather beaten books and scrolling through multiple search engines, slowly crushing the six pack between them. After a considerable length of time in which Sam searched through nine websites, Dean pawed through five books, Natalie went down for her nap and got back up, and the empty beer cans had grown warm, Sam finally struck gold. And he didn't like what he read.
"Dean," he hissed, trying to get his brother's attention without getting his niece's. Dean looked up with tired eyes from the dusty novel. Sam jerked his head towards the door, indicating that they should talk outside. Dean rolled his eyes, but got up. Sam had this annoying habit of not talking about anything he deemed "too graphic" for a kid when he was in a fifty yard radius of Natalie. Dean had argued repeatedly that the sooner she learned it all, the better. Sam didn't agree. He tried to shelter his niece from as much as he possibly could. Which was difficult, given that she was constantly trying to jump into the world of the supernatural with both feet. Dean knew that Sam would just clam up and they would get nowhere, so oftentimes, he would give in to Sam's wanting to go elsewhere to discuss anything that might be too "unpleasant". He followed his brother towards the door to the motel room.
As he was about to walk through the door, he turned to his daughter, sprawled out on the couch in a cartoon coma. She hadn't moved off of it since her nap, knowing that Sam and Dean needed quiet to do their research.
"We're gonna chat outside for a minute, okay squirt? Sit tight."
"Okay!"
Dean stepped out the door, and made sure it was shut. "Alright, Sammy. How nasty is it gonna get?" he asked. Sam just shook his head.
"You have to kill Zins with their own element."
"So...water then. We gotta drown the son of a bitch."
"And if you remember correctly, these things have a hell of a lot of strength-"
"-which means it's gonna put up a hell of a fight."
"Exactly."
Dean shrugged. "Since when is that a problem?"
"Since we can't breathe underwater."
"You saying we gotta find Aquaman or something?"
"We're going to have to hold it under long enough to drown it, while it's going to be fighting for its life, using all of its supernatural strength." Sam paused for a moment. "You starting to see the problem here?"
"Crap."
"Exactly. How the hell are we gonna drown this thing? Even with two of us?"
"We have to bind it. Tie it up, use a spell, something."
"How? What do we have that's strong enough?"
Dean gritted his teeth. "Looks like it's back to the books for us." Sam sighed, knowing Dean was right. He opened the door to the room, and Dean walked through first. What he saw, however, made the thought of how to kill the Zin fly right out of his mind.
Natalie was sitting up on the couch- playing with his phone.
Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. She had just been punished for this very same thing earlier today- usually that stuck for the rest of the day, sometimes even two or three. But she had never blatantly disobeyed him like this- within a few hours of misbehaving before. Instantly, he was furious. She knew better, and she was putting him into the same position that he hated to be in- the bad guy. She wasn't listening when he had repeatedly told her not to do this. She was just so determined to get her own way that she was disregarding whatever he said. He was determined to stomp this thing out, once and for all.
"Natalie Grace!" he roared. She jumped a mile, her eyes wide with shock. He stormed over to her and unceremoniously ripped the phone out of her hands.
"Hey!" she squeaked, now indignant herself. "I was playing on that!"
"Yeah, I got that. Didn't we just have this conversation this morning, little girl?" Dean scolded loudly. He watched as she shrank down upon hearing the words "little girl". That was Dean Code for "You're toast". Dean stood there, giving her his best withering Eye. But to his amazement, she shook her head.
"No? What do you mean, No?" he said, wondering what on earth she could be playing at.
"This morning, I took the phone when you was using it. You wasn't using it this time," Natalie explained matter of factly. She held out her hand, as if she expected Dean to drop the phone right back into her little paws. Dean closed his eyes, and let out a frustrated breath before answering.
"Natalie- I have told you a hundred times. You are not to play with my phone."
"But you wasn't using it!"
"That doesn't matter."
"Does too."
"Excuse me?!" Dean took a threatening step closer to her, but she stood her ground.
"You wasn't using it, and I needed it."
"Really. You NEEDED it."
"Yes, Daddy. I NEEDED it."
Dean shook his head and decided to cut to the chase. "Natalie, are you allowed to play with my phone without permission?" he said through gritted teeth, pissed that he was having to do this all over again in the same day. Natalie's eyes went even wider at the usual lead in to Time Out.
"But...but you wasn't using it," she stammered, not understanding what the issue was, or why Dean was suddenly so angry.
"Little girl, I asked you a question."
She slunk even farther down on the couch, but the confusion didn't leave her eyes. "No, but..."
"And what happens when you disobey me?"
"But you wasn't USING it!"
That did it for Dean. "Wrong answer," he growled. He reached down and pulled her up from the sofa by one arm, and started dragging her towards the chair which was still facing the corner. When she saw where they were heading, Natalie dug her heels into the fading shag carpeting.
"NO! I don't need a Time Out, I don't need a Time Out!" she protested loudly, using all her strength to try to stop Dean. It was of no use- she was four. He was a 36 year old hunter who was much, much taller and stronger than her. Dean simply turned and hauled her up in his arms, balancing her on his hip as he stormed towards the corner. He plunked her down in the chair. She gave a little squeak of indignation as he sat her down, hard. He took a step back, just in time to see her do the unthinkable. She slid right out of the chair and stood next to it, her mouth opening to protest. Dean thought his head was about to explode.
"Daddy, I don't need a-"
"Get. Back. In. That. Chair," Dean roared at her, cutting her off. She jumped another mile, and scrambled back into the chair immediately. But she turned over her shoulder to try to continue her argument, which just sent Dean even farther off the deep end.
"I was already in Time Out today already!" she said, thinking that Dean may have forgotten that she had done this previously.
"And clearly, you didn't learn a damn thing," he scolded her, causing her to shrink back a bit. "You took my phone after being told repeatedly not to, so yeah. You're in Time Out again. Ten minutes this time."
Natalie's jaw hit the floor. She had never been in Time Out for that long before, and she, like her father, was instantly furious. Not to mention confused, seeing as she really didn't understand what the issue was. Dean wasn't using his phone. She wanted it. What was the problem? Before she could do anything, however, Dean's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Turn around and face the corner," he commanded. Natalie wanted to speak again, but she knew both Sam and Dean had their rule about "no talking in Time Out". She whipped her head around, but just to show that she was still very displeased with the outcome here, she leaned back and began hammering the wall with her feet. That last about five seconds before she felt the entire chair scoot harshly back, and found Dean leaning down in her face.
"Stop it right now, or so help me, you will spend the rest of the day in this chair. You hear me, little girl?" Natalie didn't say anything; she just crossed her arms and dropped her feet. Dean scooted the chair back into the corner, and she couldn't help but give a slight whimper of protest. "I don't wanna hear it, Natalie," Dean warned. She fell silent again. Dean looked at his phone, closed out all the apps she had opened, and set the timer for ten minutes.
Sam had silently watched the entire exchange, and was still standing in the doorway, frozen. His eyes darted back and forth between father and daughter, watching the drama play out. Now when Dean turned away from the furious child and saw Sam standing there, gaping at him like a fish, his already short fuse got even shorter. "What?!" he barked.
Sam quickly shook his head. "Nothing. Uh...nothing." He made his way back to the table, and sat down at the laptop. Dean found himself breathing hard through his nose, and realized just how close he was to blowing his stack. He ground his back teeth together again, and forced himself to take a deep breath. He stalked over towards the books, sat down hard in his own seat, and tried to ignore the waves of fury he could practically seeing rolling off his child. This is for her own good, he told himself, trying to focus again on the book in front of him.
At the seven minute mark, Natalie, still seething, kicked the wall once more. Dean's temper instantly ignited again. "NATALIE!" he roared, slamming the book closed. She didn't turn around, but she froze, so he knew he was getting through to her. "You wanna add another five minutes on to your time, kick that wall again. See what happens." When she didn't move, he turned his attention back to the book, pissed off that he had slammed the book shut and lost his place in his anger. He felt more than saw Sam looking at him, and he refused to acknowledge it.
"Dean..."Sam began softly.
"Don't."
Sam closed his mouth, not wishing to provoke his brother's wrath any further. He was worried that Dean's temper was making him forget that this was a four year old he was dealing with; not some demon or vampire. He started to say something again, but Dean's furious eyes locked on his, and once again, he shut his mouth.
When the timer went off on his phone, Dean put a marker in the book, just in case he lost his temper again. "Natalie Grace, come here," he commanded, a bit louder than he normally would. Like usual, she slid off her chair and made her way over to him. Unlike usual however, her arms were crossed, and she still had a completely defiant look on her face. Dean sat up straight, put his hands on his knees and locked his elbows. He felt like he was prepping to go into a particularly nasty battle with an unknown creature. And to an extent, he was right. A misbehaving Natalie was certainly an anomaly. And she was clearly up for a fight, herself.
"Alright, little girl. What did you do wrong?"
She shrugged. Dean bit the inside of his cheek and pinched his eyes closed. When he felt his control coming back to him, he opened his eyes and spoke.
"You know better than to give me a shrug like that. Speak."
"I don't know what I did wrong. Sir."
"Really. You don't know."
"No."
"No, sir."
"No...sir."
The pause between words almost sent him over the edge again. "You mean to tell me that in the ten minutes you sat there, you couldn't come up with one reason why you were in trouble? Even though I told you right before I put you in that corner?"
"No, sir."
Dean's eyebrows drew together, and once again his face hardened. "Then I guess you're going back in Time Out until you can figure it out." He reached out and grabbed her arm again. The defiance immediately fell off her face, only to be replaced with outrage.
"NO! THAT'S NOT FAIR!" she yelled. Dean didn't even respond. He just yanked her so hard she nearly tripped. Tuning out her cries, he set her down in the chair for the third time that day. He knelt right next to it, getting as close to her as he could.
"Listen up, 'cause I'm not gonna tell you again. You took my phone. You're not supposed to take my phone-" At this, she gave every indication that she was going to interrupt him with her "you weren't using it" argument, but he held up his hand and raised his voice instead of letting her speak. "- EVER without my permission. So you think about that for the next ten minutes, and see if you can't come up with the right answer the next time I ask you. Got it?" Without waiting for an indication that she understood, Dean stood up and stormed over to the table and grabbed his phone. Just as he was about to reset the timer, he heard the telltale thump of a small shoe being kicked at a wall.
"Natalie Grace Winchester, you kick that wall again, and it's gonna very uncomfortable for you to sit for the next ten minutes. Understood?"
Silence. Dean turned away from her, still seething, and reset the timer. This time, Sam couldn't help himself.
"Dean," he began again softly.
"What, Sam?" Dean barked, knowing exactly what it was that Sam was going to say.
"You need to calm down, dude."
"No, what I need is a kid who listens to me."
"You need to remember that she IS a kid, Dean," Sam said, dropping his voice lower to try to soothe his brother.
"That doesn't excuse her from doing whatever she damn well pleases when she knows she shouldn't."
"I'm not saying it does. I'm saying that you're about to lose your cool with a four year old."
"Oh, what, so now I gotta run my parenting style by you first? Is that it? Cause the last time I checked, there's only one of us who's ever raised another kid, and that would be me."
"What are you talking about?"
"What am I talking about? I'm talking about you, dumb ass. About how I practically raised YOU. You don't seem any worse for the wear because of it."
"You never yelled at me like how you just yelled at her. Not when I was four, anyways."
"Yeah? Well, Dad yelled at me like that all the time when I was four and I turned out just fine."
"He yelled at ME all the time like that too, and I didn't." That comment from Sam struck Dean right between the eyes, but his anger and ego weren't going to back down. He held up his hands.
"Sammy, enough."
"But Dean-"
"I said, enough."
"Fine," Sam huffed, sitting back in his chair. Dean nodded once, as if the battle was over, and he was accepting Sam's acquiescence. With a furrowed brow, he focused on the lore books, thumbing his way through them and trying not to think about what Sam had said. When the timer went off, he sent up a silent prayer that she was going to give him the answer he was looking for, and this whole thing would be over. He conscientiously took a deep breath, and tried to modify his voice a bit.
"Natalie," he said, relieved when it came out in a firm tone instead of a screaming one. He didn't have to tell her to come; she slid off the chair of her own accord. His brain sagged with relief when he noted she didn't have her arms crossed and she wasn't stomping. But she had a stoic look on her face that Dean wasn't used to seeing. Except in the mirror.
He swallowed, and leaned his elbows on his knees again very meticulously. "Alright, kid. You come up with the right answer this time around?"
Natalie looked his square in the eye. In a flat voice, she said, "Yes, sir."
"Good. What did you do wrong?"
"I took your phone and played on it."
"Are you allowed to do that without my permission? Whether I've been using it or not?"
"No, sir."
"Good. You got anything more to say?"
"Yes, sir," she said, her face hardening, just like his. "I'm not talking to you anymore."
That threw Dean for a loop. Out of all the things he was expecting to come out of her mouth, that was one of the last. His mind instantly went on the defense, and he felt his face harden, a mirror image of hers. "Fine," he growled at her. She scowled back. He pointed a finger in her face. "But you WILL continue to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. You understand me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." Dean sat back, satisfied that he had gotten his point across. Then he realized he had no idea what to do next. She had never said anything like that before, and so he didn't know what his next move should be. Natalie, however, knew that they were done. She turned on her heel, walked calmly over to the couch, and turned off the TV. She pulled her crayons and coloring book out of her backpack, and sprawled out on the floor. Dean's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he didn't comment. He simply turned back in his chair, and once again, to his annoyance, found Sam staring at him.
"You proud of yourself?" Sam said, a bitter edge to his voice. Dean just gave him The Eye, but that didn't stop him. "You made her so angry that she's not going to speak to you."
"I punished her for her disobedience. Not my fault how she chooses to act about it."
"Dean, that's the point exactly! It IS your fault. You're driving her away."
"And you're trying to coddle her."
"That's not what I'm trying to do at all!"
"Really, Sam? 'Cause it seems to me that you think I should treat every act of disobedience with unicorn stickers and kitten cuddles."
Sam gave him a resounding bitch face. "What I'm saying is that you losing your temper and punishing her when she doesn't know why she's being punished isn't doing her any favors."
"Did you miss the whole freaking exchange? She knows what she did, Sam."
"No, she's telling you what you WANT to hear to get herself out of trouble. She doesn't understand why it was a problem for her to take the phone when you weren't using it. You're overestimating her ability to grasp the situation."
"And you're underestimating her. She's the damn smartest kid I've ever met, and you know it. Hell, she's smarter than you. And you're telling me that she doesn't get that not taking my phone means not taking my phone?!"
Sam threw up his hands in frustration. "All I'm saying is that you're expecting her to act like an adult. Don't forget that she's a kid."
"Noted," Dean growled angrily, turning away from Sam, walking towards the front door. He just needed a breath of air- all the tension in the room was making his tee shirt collar too tight. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard Sam scoff under his breath. With his short fuse already burned through, he turned back to Sam. "WHAT?!" he roared. Sam looked like he was barely fazed by Dean's outburst.
"Nothing," he said quietly.
"Oh, so now you're not talking to me either? Fine by me."
"Don't mix me up in this. You made your bed, you're gonna have to lie in it."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I don't want to hear it when you can't take the fact that Natalie's not talking to you."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Please. She'll be talking to me again in an hour."
Oh, how wrong he was.
For the rest of the day, Natalie didn't say two words to Dean. When he asked her if she wanted another juice box, she completely ignored him, getting up and getting it herself from the fridge. Dean had just chuckled at first at her stubbornness, thinking it wouldn't last, but as the day wore on and she still wasn't talking, a small part of him started getting worried. Sam volunteered to go pick up some dinner for the three of them, and she had run over to Sam, begging to go with him, clearly not wanting to be left alone in the room with Dean. That stung, big time. Sam had tried to help that little situation out by pointedly saying "goodbye" to Dean while holding Natalie in his arms as they were getting ready to head out. Natalie, however, turned her face away and started chatting with Sam about all the places they could go to get dinner. Dean was surprised by a small pocket of emptiness growing in his chest at her refusal to say goodbye. He brushed the feeling aside. The kid couldn't stay mad forever...could she?
A horrible thought came crashing over him. Dean started thinking about just how stubborn the little monkey really was. When she was three, she decided that she was responsible for dressing herself, and had done so, refusing all help even when she got her head stuck in a pair of leggings. When she was two, she decided she was done with diapers and after one day, had basically potty trained herself. At the time, Dean had been nothing but grateful, but now he saw her attitude in a different light. She had often refused to speak words until she knew that she was saying them correctly, making Sam or Dean say them repeatedly until she could do it too. As the pieces started to fall together, the emptiness in Dean's chest grew.
Of course she was stubborn enough to stop talking to him altogether. She was a Winchester.
Just then, Sam and Natalie came back in to the room. Sam had apparently said something that made his niece giggle with delight. Dean's heart ached, suddenly realizing how much he relished the sound of her laughter, and how much he had been missing it this day.
"What's the joke?" he asked, hoping to engage her. She instantly stopped laughing, let go of Sam's hand, and walked back over to her crayons like Dean wasn't even in the room. The pocket of emptiness that in his heart was now holding all of his vital organs hostage. He rolled his jaw around on its hinges, trying to mask the hurt. Sam, however, noticed. He cleared his throat and said calmly, "Natalie, come to the table please. Let's eat."
Purely as a reflex, Dean said, "Clean up your crayons first." To his immense surprise, she immediately obeyed- picking up her crayons and putting them neatly in the box, then putting the whole shebang on the sofa where she slept so she could play with them later. She walked silently over to her seat, and climbed up, not wanting any help. Dean took that as a good sign- she was at least responding to what he told her, even if she still wasn't talking. Emboldened by this revelation, he tried to make small talk again.
"So, squirt, what did you end up getting? Usual grilled cheese?" C'mon kid, talk to me, he silently begged. But she just acted like she had been doing all day- like he wasn't even there. The pocket inside Dean grew larger. She pulled her sandwich towards her, and took a bite, chewing noisily. Sam looked at Dean, concerned with the toll this was taking on his brother. Something as simple as a four year old not talking to him was eating him up just as much as anything else Sam had seen Dean deal with- and he had dealt with a lot. For all the emotional havoc she was wreaking, Natalie seemed supremely unconcerned. But Dean noticed she wasn't eating at her usual pace. After a few minutes, she had only eaten half her sandwich, and was now picking at the other half.
"Natalie, please don't play with your food," Sam instructed gently. She dropped her hands away from the sandwich, but didn't continue eating. The brothers exchanged another glance. She usually ate like a dockhand and had a snack before bed, but picking at her food- especially her favorite dinner- was very unusual. Sam cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.
"Bug, aren't you going to finish your dinner?" he asked.
"Not hungry," she said grimly. Dean's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Second time today that the kid had shocked him with what came out of her mouth. Sam saw the fact register in Dean's brain, and spoke up first.
"You need to eat a bit more, please. If you don't, you're going to be hungry tonight."
"I don't want it."
"Take a couple more bites."
She didn't answer- she just pushed the food around again. Dean, in spite of the emptiness, felt himself starting to get pissed again. Sam saw the fuse beginning to shorten, and jumped in before Dean could shoot off his mouth.
"Natalie. You need to eat three more bites, now," Sam said in a stern voice, trying to stem the tide of anger he could feel coming off of Dean. He fixed his niece with a firm glance, praying that it would be enough for once. And of course, it wasn't.
"I'm not hungry," Natalie insisted again, a bit more attitude behind her words. That touch of attitude was all it took.
"Natalie, you eat your dinner, or you're going to bed right now," Dean suddenly barked at her. Both she and Sam froze upon hearing Dean's command. Natalie's gaze slowly slid to her father, looking at him full in the face for the first time since she had declared that she wasn't speaking to him again. Just as his heart started to unthaw a bit, seeing her eyes, she pushed her sandwich away defiantly. But before Dean could do anything, she hopped off her chair, walked over to the sofa, laid down, and covered herself with her blanket.
Dean's jaw hit the floor. She had willingly put herself to bed rather than eat her dinner or talk to him. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He tried a different tactic. "I'm serious, Natalie. You will stay there for the rest of the night if you don't get back here and eat, right now." The only response he got was her pulling her blanket higher up over her head. Dean turned to Sam, but Sam had no words either. Finally, they both had to admit defeat. The pocket of emptiness burned through the anger, and started to consume Dean again.
After they finished their own food, they had gotten back down to their research. Dean looked up every now and then to see if Natalie was still holding strong in her resolve to stay in bed all night. She didn't move once. He didn't try to say anything to her- what was the point? She wouldn't answer. Finally, they both went to bed themselves. The hollow, aching emptiness inside Dean was all he could think about. He tried to ignore it as he fell into a troubled sleep.
The next morning, Dean woke up. The void in his heart woke up right with him. He lay there for a minute, trying to figure out how he was going to get through the day if she was holding on to her resolve not to talk to him. He realized how harsh he'd been with her, and was wondering if she'd ever forgive him for losing his temper all over her like that. He shifted uncomfortably, when his foot hit something outside his bedclothes. He jumped up, and what he saw down by his feet made his heart stop.
Natalie was curled up like a cat at the foot of his bed.
When she felt his foot hit her back, she bounced up, her eyes immediately seeking Dean's. Dean knew she had been awake for hours. It suddenly dawned on him that she had been laying there, waiting for him. He pushed himself into an upright position on his elbows, and because he couldn't handle the silence, he spoke.
"Hey kiddo- you okay?" he said, his morning voice still gruff with sleep. Even if she was still pissed and giving him the silent treatment, he had to know if she was alright.
"I would like to talk to you again, please."
If he hadn't been looking right at her, he wouldn't have believed it. She was talking to him again. His baby girl was talking to him again. He wanted to reach out, pull her into his chest, and never let her go. But she was still sitting at the edge of his bed, clearly nervous about his reactions, and he didn't want to spook her now that she was talking again. He moved slowly, sitting up carefully.
"Okay. Okay," he said quietly. "So let's talk."
She made sure she was looking him right in the eye. "I'm sorry I was real bad yesterday. I know I'm not a'sposed to take your phone, but I wanted it. I was bad, and I will be good again, okay?" And it suddenly hit Dean between the eyes. Sam was right. Dean was expecting Natalie to act like an adult- so that's exactly what she was doing. To make him happy. He was essentially forcing his four year old to act like she was forty, apologizing for something that she didn't truly understand. He couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and pulled her into his lap. He felt her immediately relax in his arms. The emptiness that had eaten him alive last night disappeared as he held her.
"I'm sorry too, squirt," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I got so angry yesterday, and didn't even tell you why."
"It was because I was bad. I know."
"It was because I was stupid. I wasn't thinking, kiddo. I reacted in anger. How many times have we talked about that?"
"Lots."
"Why isn't it good to react in anger, especially if you're a hunter?"
"Cause sometimes you can get hurt 'cause you're not thinking 'cause you're angry."
"Exactly. And I was a real bad hunter yesterday. I'm really, really sorry. Can you forgive me?" He leaned down and touched his nose to hers. Her eyes lit up, causing his heart to do a somersault.
"Yes, Daddy! I love you." As simple as that. Dean's formerly empty heart expanded to nearly bursting out of his chest. He hugged her close once more, and then leaned back, looking at this kid who had changed his life completely.
"Do you really understand why you're not supposed to take my phone, even if I'm not using it?" Dean asked. He had to know if she did understand, or if she was saying what he wanted to hear.
She nodded vigorously. "Yup. You need the phone for research and to hunt monsters." She tilted her head to the side a bit. "Can I play on it sometimes? When you're not using it?"
"If you ask me first, and I'm not using it, you totally can. But only when I say so," Dean said. He grinned at her. "You're so damn smart. You know that?"
"Yup."
That made him laugh. "You're probably starving, aren't you?" he said, knowing her better than she knew herself. Natalie gave an enthusiastic nod. "I figured. Go wake up Uncle Sam and we'll go get breakfast, okay?"
Her eyes immediately turned gleeful and mischievous. "Do I have to wake him up like a normal person?" Dean grinned- his four year old was four again. He gave her an identical mischievous grin back.
"Surprise me."
