Hello beautiful! Is your day going spectacularly? I certainly hope so!
Here's the next installment of Natalie. I've had a lot of requests for her to get into some mischief and some more baby Natalie as well. I'm cooking those up- please be patient with me and I'll get them written out! I have a case story coming your way next :)
The biggest hugs to all of you guys who have hung around so long. I can't believe we're almost at 200 followers- I'm in awe of you guys. I can't tell you how much I adore each and every one of you.
MASSIVE thanks to Jenmm31- she's great at helping make these characters even more realistic, and I owe her the world.
Read, Review, Enjoy! Happy Labor Day, Always Keep Fighting!
A/N- in this story, Natalie is ten. Please see profile page for disclaimers.
"I'll pay you a hundred bucks."
"Nope."
"Five hundred."
"Even if I thought you had that kind of money, the answer would still be no."
"I will let you drive Baby once. And only once."
"How is that possibly better than five hundred dollars?"
"That's like winning the freaking lottery, dude. Once in a lifetime opportunity."
"Except when you're tired and need a nap."
"Which never happens, because I'm a warrior."
"Still- no."
Dean threw up his hands. "Come on, Sammy! Help me out here! You're supposed to be the teacher."
Sam fixed Dean back with an even gaze. "And you're her father. It's your job," he replied, pointing at his brother.
Dean just sighed heavily, putting his hands on his hips and looking out the window. As much as he wanted to deny it, as much as he wanted to fight Sam on it, the truth of Sam's words was just too much to brush aside. After snorting derisively, searching for a burning sting that would change Sam's mind and, ultimately, coming up short, Dean finally turned back to Sam. A look of sheer desperation was on his face.
"Sammy, please, I'm beggin' here. I just can't do it."
"Dean. Natalie is YOUR daughter. As her parent, it should come from YOU."
Dean threw up his hands, exasperated again. "I can't do it! I can't talk to my ten year old daughter about…." He dropped his voice low. "…sex."
Now that she was ten, Sam had loosened the reins on what he would let Natalie get away with watching on TV and in the movies. Dean, of course, had been letting her watch pretty much anything she wanted to since she could talk, but now that Sam was on board, she was much more prone to ask questions about what she was seeing and hearing. A couple choice movies had led to some awkward conversations, and finally, Sam and Dean had come to the conclusion that it was time to give her the dreaded "Talk".
In response to Dean's dramatics, Sam just rolled his eyes. "Please, Dean, she's fully aware of the word. I mean, she's been on the road with us for ten years, and you've not always exactly been careful when it's come to that subject."
Dean stood up straight and pointed firmly at Sam. "I resent that. I've been extremely careful."
Sam cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at his brother. "Oh really?" he intoned flatly. "What about that time in Albuquerque?"
"I told you, I thought that door was locked!"
"And the time with that other hunter in Rhode Island?"
"The kid just thought we were wrestling. No harm, no foul."
"And when she decided to play hide and seek with one of the girls you brought back here for a one-nighter and nearly gave that poor woman a heart attack?"
"How was I supposed to know she'd be up that early?!"
"She's Natalie. She's been 'up that early' since birth."
"Fine, fine," Dean grumbled, turning away from Sam again. "You made your point. Happy?"
"Not until you tell me that you're going to have The Talk with her," Sam replied without missing a beat.
For lack of words, Dean took a long swig of the beer in his hand before resuming his pacing of Bobby's study. He looked around at the neat books and papers that had obviously been organized by his little girl, and the whole idea of having "The Talk" with her tied his stomach in knots. If he had this talk with her, that was just as good as saying that she was growing up- something that Dean was resoundly ignoring more and more so. He didn't like the idea of his little princess even talking to boys- let alone, touching or kissing or….and the idea of "The Talk" once again made him want to hurl.
Dean studied the beer can in his hand closely before trying to worm his way out of this again. "You really don't think she's too young?" he asked lightly, grasping at straws. He knew what Sam's response was going to be before he even took a breath.
"She's the same age we were when Dad gave us the talk."
"Gave me. I gave it to you when you were ten."
"And you left nothing to the imagination. So you've already had practice. This should be a cakewalk."
Dean glared at his younger brother. "A cakewalk? Tellin' your little brother about the ins and outs of getting laid is a hell of a lot different than telling your freaking DAUGHTER about it, you jackass."
"Dude, same words, same subject, same end game. Besides, you and she are really close. You'll be fine."
"What about Bobby? You think Bobby would do it for me?"
Sam snorted a disbelieving laugh, then held out his hands towards Dean like he was painting a picture. "Just imagine that conversation for a second. Just really think about what would happen." Dean did as Sam instructed. He pictured himself asking Bobby to have The Talk with Natalie. Every single scenario and tactic he could conceive ended with him getting the back of his head smacked and the deed still not done. Dean chewed on his bottom lip as the panic continued to rise in his chest.
"Cas! What do you think? You think Cas would do it? I bet he would. He loves the kid- he'll do anything for her," Dean said, the desperate gleam in his eye getting more pronounced.
"Unless you want Natalie to end up with the Pizza Man version of sex, and her asking Cas a lot of questions he can't answer, then having to have the talk with BOTH of them, I'd say that option's out."
Dean rolled his eyes. Dammit. He was truly stuck on this one. "I mean, I can DO it- like you said, explainin' it ain't the problem….it's just…..I mean, come on. It's Natalie. That's just….that's just too hard for me, man," Dean said shaking his head and looking out the window again. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he stared into the junkyard.
Sam sighed. "Look, Dean. I know this is rough. Hell, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. But listen- she's getting older, and she really needs to know about the birds and the bees. And you know that needs to come from you." Sam stood up from behind Bobby's desk and walked quietly over towards his brother. "Doesn't mean she's still not your little girl, man. You know that."
"Yeah, yeah. I know," Dean grumbled, not wanting to admit that he was taking comfort in Sam's words. He downed the last of his beer, stared at the can one more time, then crushed it in his fist. After letting out an almighty belch, he turned towards the stairs and pointed.
"She up in her room?" he asked.
Sam reared back in surprise. "You gonna do this now? Right now?"
"No time like the present," Dean said, chucking his crushed can at Sam as he walked towards the stairs. He didn't say what he was really thinking, but he also wanted to get this over with before he chickened out. He slowly ascended the stairs, trying to think about how to even start this conversation. He tried to push the idea that he was about to rob his child of the little scrap of innocence that she had left. She had seen death and destruction pretty much since the day she popped out, but this was different. How was he supposed to end her childhood with a conversation? What kind of father did that?
He shook his head, trying to readjust his thinking. For a brief second, he let his mind think about Jamie- her mother. If she had stayed, she'd have been the one to have this stupid talk. But as the very thought of Jamie still made Dean see red all these years later, he pushed that from his mind. That was the last thing he needed- to go into this already uncomfortable situation with residual anger in his brain. He shoved Jamie back into the dark little box in his mind and focused on the task at hand.
He reached out a fist to knock on Natalie's door, then suddenly withdrew it. He was sweating like a whore in a church without air conditioning. The panic of the moment threated to overwhelm him and bring up the contents of his stomach yet again. "Get your head out of your ass, Winchester," he growled low at himself, then forced himself to knock on her door. He found himself bouncing back and forth on his feet, like a prizefighter about to enter the ring. "Just a talk. It's just a talk. You got this," he muttered to himself, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"Come in," said a sweet voice from inside. Dean grit his teeth, trying not to think about the sheer awkwardness of the coming moment, and opened her door. Natalie was sprawled out on her bed on her stomach, reading, as per usual. When she saw it was Dean in her doorway, her face lit up.
"Hiya, Dad!" she said, flipping her book over instantly so she wouldn't lose her place. "What's up?" she asked, sitting up on her bed and looking at him expectantly.
Dean opened his mouth to respond, but absolutely nothing came out. It was like his lungs had deflated. This monumental task of telling Natalie about sex had hit him full in the face- and he had no freaking clue what to do. He gaped like a fish for about ten seconds. Natalie's face contorted into a mask of confusion as she watched her father impersonate Nemo on land. "Dad? You okay?" she asked slowly, watching him like a hawk.
At that, an incredibly awkward laugh burst out unbidden from Dean's mouth. "HA! Of course. I'm great. I'm super swell." He stopped- what the fuck had he just said? Super swell? God, he was an idiot. He shook his head again, his casual, lopsided grin jumping onto his face immediately. "Yeah, so…I'm good. A-Okay. How are you?"
Natalie's eyebrow reached her hairline, trying to decipher Dean's awkward stammering. "I'm good, too. What's going on?" she said, a touch of fear creeping into her voice.
That, of course, made Dean panic even more. He needed her to stay calm and cool during this; otherwise, he was going to lose his shit. He had to sit down. He moved towards her bed. He was about to sit, when that suddenly became way too close for the conversation they were about to have. Right before his butt hit the mattress, he sprang back up, his eyes darting around the room. The wall behind him seemed to be an option for a safe location. He put one hand up on it, trying to lean casually against it. He grinned at Natalie- and then, from the look on her face, realized how stupid he probably looked. He frantically scanned the room again. The chair by her desk! Perfect. He darted over to it, tripping over a pair of her sneakers on the way, and practically fell into it as it swayed dangerously to the side from the force of his body checking it. As soon as he righted himself, he planted both feet firmly on the floor and slapped his hands down on his thighs. "There," he said, as if his wild dart around the room was perfectly normal. "That's better."
Natalie just stared incredulously. "Um…Dad?" she started to say hesitantly. "Are you…what is going on?" she said carefully.
"Nothing. Nothing is going on."
"Then…why are you acting so weird?"
"I'm not acting weird."
"Yes you are."
"No, YOU'RE acting weird."
"I'm not the one who just darted around the room like you got a bee in your boxers."
Dean took a deep breath, looked at the ground. Then, with another slap to his thighs, looked his confused daughter in the face. "Well, kid….Okay. You and I- the thing is…we- need to talk."
Natalie sat up a little straighter at that. "O…kay. Did…did I do something? Am I in trouble?" she asked a little fearfully. Dean waved both his hands in the air like he was swatting at bugs.
"No, no," he said impatiently. "Nothin' like that. You're not in trouble. I just thought that we could…talk." Natalie's eyebrows looked like they would never unwrinkle; so confused was she. Dean never wanted to just "talk" unless she was in trouble, but she hadn't done anything. That she could remember.
"Okay," she said, measuring her words. "So…what did you want to talk about?"
Dean instantly began flop sweating. This was the moment. He willed his lungs to fill with air and just dove in. "Well, Nat, the thing is…you're getting older, and there are certain…things that….older people…know." He paused to see if she was following him. Suddenly, the idea of saying the word "sex" was overwhelming. Maybe she'd figure out what he was getting at and say it first so he didn't have to. But she was still clearly confused, so he tried again. "When people get older…they…know things. You know?"
"What?"
Well, clearly he was nailing this.
"I mean, as you get older, you're going to have…questions about…stuff…and your dad…I mean me…I'm your dad….should…I can talk to you about…questions." He paused, wiped his drenched forehead, and gasped for breath as his lungs felt like they were closing off again. "You see what I'm getting at?"
"Dad, are you feeling alright?"
Dean groaned in frustration. "Look, Natalie. We need to talk about…"
"Talk about what?"
The silence in the room seemed to stretch into eternity. Dean's jaw creaked up and down as he tried to force the word from his mouth. Finally, after screwing his courage to the sticking place and taking in a deep gulp of air, he blurted the word out.
"SEX!" Holy shit, that came out a lot louder than he had intended it to. His eyes instantly darted to his daughter's face. Her perfectly innocent eyes were wide.
"Sex?" she repeated at a much lower decibel level than he had just used. Now that the forbidden word was out, Dean just nodded his head vigorously.
"Yup. Sex. We- we need to talk about sex," he said, gaining bravery. He had done it! He had said the word. He inhaled deeply, feeling very proud of himself. Then, just as quickly as the relief came, the panic came rushing back in, wiping it all away. Now, he actually had to TALK about it. Luckily, Natalie came to the rescue.
"Why do we need to talk about sex?" she asked, her eyes still wide and curious. Dean gulped a few times. He could do this. He had to do this. Promising himself an entire keg of beer once this was all over, he plunged in again.
"Well, sex is something that you need to know about. You need to know…how it all works, and you need to be able to ask questions. Although, in order to ask questions, you and I need to talk about…the logistics of everything…I mean….You need to know- how to do it. You know?" Dean looked into his daughter's eyes. Moment of truth. He could do this. He was Super Dad. He could have this conversation and be the hero that she needed to get her through this.
However, in the middle of this heartwarming thought, he got the surprise of his life. Natalie had been staring at him, wide eyed as he stammered his way through the beginning of The Talk. Suddenly, without warning, she exploded into laughter. Her guffaws were so loud, they could probably be heard the next town over. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to get ahold of herself as she chortled, but that just made her laugh harder. She fell onto her side on the bed, hooting and hollering like she had just been given a dose of laughing gas.
Dean just stared. What the hell had gotten into her? He knew that she sometimes giggled in awkward situations, but this outright laughter was new to him. He didn't know what to do. Was she laughing at him? At the situation? What was so damned funny?
Finally, she sat upright, wiping her streaming eyes. Her breath caught in hitches as she tried to speak. "Dad….Dad are you…hee hee hee….Dad are you trying…ha….are you trying to give me The Talk?" she finally managed to spit out, sounding like an asthma patient.
Dean, who was at a complete loss for what was actually going on, couldn't do anything more than reply. "Yes?" he asked cautiously. That caused another eruption of laughter from his daughter. He could actually feel a light spray of spit coming from her lips as she screamed in mirth again. He sat upright, trying to regain some of his dignity as he wiped his face.
"I'll just wait for you to finish, then," he said haughtily, watching her rolling around on her bed, clutching her sides. However, she wasn't anywhere close to done. After a very awkward minute passed, finally in irritation, he said, "Alright, lock it up. We've got to talk here, and you ain't makin' it easier on me, kid."
At that, Natalie sat upright, trying to control the wild giggles still pouring out of her mouth. "Dad, I'm sorry to laugh like that, but you're a little late."
Dean's insides froze. "What the hell do you mean, 'I'm a little late'?" he said through clenched teeth. Natalie kept inhaling as she tried to speak.
"I mean, you don't need to give me The Talk. I already know how it all works."
"Wh-what? How the hell do you know all that?!"
"Because when you and Uncle Sam were out on a hunt a couple months ago, I was working on some science homework. I finished the assignment early and started reading ahead because I was bored. I got to a chapter about anatomy, and just kept reading and doing my own homework on it." Natalie shrugged casually, the shit-eating grin still plastered on her face. "So then with my research, it didn't take me too long to figure out the links between anatomy and sex. With my research and stuff, I figured out how it all works."
Dean was absolutely flabbergasted. His eyes were now as wide as his daughter's had been when he first started blabbing about all this mess. He blinked stupidly a couple times, and finally found his tongue. "You…know it all?" he managed to spit out.
"Yup."
"Everything? Even….like…girly...girl stuff?"
"Pretty much."
"Are you sure you know everything?"
"Well, I think so. I mean, I had some questions, so I asked Uncle Sam."
Dean's eyes nearly fell out of his head at her casual statement. Everything suddenly seemed to turn red. "You mean to tell me," Dean hissed, the vein in his neck threatening to burst. "That your uncle KNEW you knew about sex? Did he already have the talk with you?"
Natalie shook her head, as if she hadn't just thrown Sam under the bus. "Not really. He told me that it was your job, and that you and I were going to talk about it and that you could answer all my questions, but only when you were ready to talk. He didn't answer any of my questions, and I wasn't sure how to bring it up to you. But I should have asked you way earlier. I never thought you were gonna be so weird about it!" she said, bursting into giggles again. "That was freaking hilarious!" she chortled. After she gained control again, she gulped and shook her head a few times. "So I guess we should talk about it and make sure I know everything. You want me to just start from the beginning?"
Dean, who couldn't think of a damn thing to say, just nodded mutely.
*SPN SPN SPN*
About half an hour later, Dean slowly descended the stairs. The deed was done. The kid DID know everything she needed to know, including all about all that girly crap that made him squeamish. For her sake, he had tried to keep his facial expressions of discomfort to a minimum while discussing that particular topic, and she didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Dean patted himself on the back for his superior acting skills.
But he had to hand it to the kid- she had done her homework. He had filled in some minor gaps in her knowledge and some specific questions she had had, but that had been it. He had made sure to stress to her the importance of safe sex, grilling her on those particular practices, and tried to instill in her the idea that most people didn't have sex until they were well in their sixties. Of course, she didn't buy that, but just giggled at him in a way that made Dean realize that there was still a lot of child left in her, and he hadn't completely destroyed it with The Talk.
As he hit the ground floor of the house, a sing-songy voice came out of the study.
"So. How did The Talk go?"
Dean slowly turned around, breathing fire, ready to kill. Sam's feet were resting on top of the desk, casually crossed. He had a cold beer in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. Dean took a very measured step, and then another and another, right up to his brother. Every step he took, Sam's grin got wider. Finally, face-to-face, Dean said the only thing that came to mind.
"Stay here while I get my gun."
As Dean stormed out of the room, Sam took a hearty drink, chuckling to himself. Score one for the Moose.
