Happy New Year, Fabulous SPN Family! This year already looks good on you :)
For those of you who've seen it- HOW ABOUT THIS WEEK'S EPISODE?!
This story is a combination of several things. First off- it is inspired by a review that I got from the amazing Tamilyn313. It's not quite her request (more on why in a moment), but I do want to give her a shout out because I WILL be writing her specific request, not to mention she's the one who gave me the idea for the chapter on Natalie's first period, AND because her request sparked the memory of another story I had written for fun with the incredible Jenmm31. With her help, we were able to pull this one out of the archives and polish it up for all of you. So major special thanks to Tamilyn313 and Jenmm31! There's more Natalie to come this year, just you wait. Love you bitches and jerks.
A/N- in this story, Natalie is five. Please see profile page for disclaimer.
It was a lovely day in May. So lovely that Sam couldn't help but take his just-turned-five-year-old niece out to the park to play. It had been cold in this town since they had pulled in two days ago, but today Mother Nature flipped the switch and had given them a warm, puffy-clouded day. Dean was out trying to wheedle information out of the cops about the latest "had to have been a wild animal attack" death, and Sam was on Bug Patrol. So to the park they went.
Natalie had been racing around the motel room for the last couple days, because that was what five year olds did. She was currently relishing the freedom of the big, open, grassy play areas at this park, completely done with being cooped up in that stuffy motel room. She loved to run, but she had to be careful about when and where she did it. Sam didn't scold her nearly as much for running outside as he did for running in the motel room. She didn't really get what the difference was, but right now, she didn't care, because he was playing a fantastic game of tag with her.
She darted and weaved, convinced that she had the maneuverability of a ninja when it came to evading Sam's tagging ability. She giggled as she darted out from underneath his hands yet again. "You're never gonna catch me!" she shrieked in delight, secretly hoping that he would so she could be 'it' again.
Knowing his niece's game, Sam grinned, giving chase yet again, letting her get just far enough away and then darting after her, while she ran screaming with laughter away from him. He was internally marveling that she still had this much energy, especially without a nap. Natalie had always hated sleeping and naps, and the older she got, the more she protested them. Sam and Dean had agreed to try 'no naps' this week, just to see how she'd do. She was five now, so they were hoping they were close to the end of the afternoon fights known as Naptime. They were on day 3 of no afternoon nap, and Natalie was still going strong. Even knowing she stayed up late watching a movie last night with Dean while Sam was checking the crime scene was surprising. Usually they were heading for a meltdown around this time, but she was running and laughing and perfectly happy, so he wasn't going to question it.
Just then, Natalie darted impossibly close to him, as if daring him to tag her. Sam faked to his left for a moment, but then at the last moment, stretched his long arm out and tagged her. "Tag, you're it!" he declared, grinning from ear to ear.
"NOOOOOOOO!" Natalie screeched dramatically while still laughing. "You can't do that! That is BULLSHIT!" She continued cackling with laughter.
The second that word crossed her lips however, the smile slid off Sam's face, only to be replaced by a look of horror. He knew that Natalie knew more bad words than someone of her age should. She was Dean Winchester's daughter, after all. But she also knew that she wasn't supposed to say words like that in public, and she also knew that Sam hated it when she said those things. He planted his feet firmly, always feeling that if he had a good stance, it would give him courage when dealing with her wayward behavior.
"Natalie Grace!" he said with all the authority he could muster. "Come here," he instructed, pointing at the ground right in front of himself.
Natalie, who had darted away in glee, stopped suddenly upon hearing his tone. She turned to him with wide eyes, wondering what she had done to earn her middle name. She willingly trotted to his feet, still having no concept of her misdeeds. She looked up at him innocently. That didn't make this easier for Sam.
He kneeled down, and pulled her in closer to him with one hand on her arm. He was only too aware that a couple other parkgoers had stopped in shock upon hearing the word yelled out of the five year old's mouth. Most of them had gone back to their own business, but Sam was painfully conscious of the little old woman walking her Pomeranian who had come to a complete standstill, and was staring at them. He could feel her disapproving gaze burning a hole in the side of his head, so he spoke low and quickly, while trying to maintain his stern tone. "Natalie, you know you can't say those kinds of words. You need to stop that kind of talk, right now." He looked at her with his own version of The Eye, hoping it would quell her into behaving.
Unfortunately for him, though, it wasn't enough to even concern her. Uncle Sam was a pushover, and they both knew it. She giggled like she had a secret, and rocked back and forth on her heels, evidently pleased with herself. "But that's a new one that I learned. I like it! It's funny!" she said gleefully.
His jaw tense, Sam shook his head at her. "It is not funny. You can't say those words, Natalie."
"Yes, I can!"
"No, you can't."
"Yes, I can! Listen! Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!"
The little old judgmental biddy with the dog placed her hand on her chest and audibly gasped her disapproval, then shook her head at the disgraceful display. Sam felt his face burn hot in embarrassment. As quick as he could, he stood up and hauled Natalie up onto his hip. She squeaked a bit in surprise at suddenly being rocketed upwards.
"That's it. We're going home right now," he said, trying to keep his voice down, and yet keep his tone of authority. Natalie's jaw dropped open in shock. What was happening?
"But…but Unca Sam," she protested, confused. "We haven't even played on the swings yet!" That surely would make him see sense. He loved to play with her, so that would clearly snap him out of whatever this was. But Sam began walking back towards the motel two blocks away.
"That's too bad. We're going home right now and you're getting a Time Out."
"What?!"
"You heard me." Sam kept walking despite her protests, eager to put as much space between himself and the little old lady who, he was sure, was still shaking her head at him. "You know you're not supposed to say those words, and you did. And then I told you not to use that language anymore, and you did it three more times."
Natalie, finally understanding, waved his concerns away with one small hand. "But Unca Sam, you said that I CAN'T say those words, and I was just showing you that I CAN," she said patiently, completely understanding why Sam was confused.
"Natalie, you know well and good that when I say you 'can't' say that, it means that you should not say that," Sam continued, trying to stay stern, yet calm. He was done being the pushover. He had to rein this in with her. He looked both ways before proceeding through the crosswalk. "You know better than to use those bad words in public, and you know that I don't like when you say them."
"But Daddy says it's funny when I say them."
Sam gritted his teeth at her reasoning. He and Dean had very different views on Natalie's vocabulary. Every time she opened her potty mouth, Dean guffawed. Sam, however, was mortified. What kind of a person lets their five-year-old spout off language like that? For that matter, what kind of person drug a five-year-old into the life that they…no, no, not going there right now, Sam thought to himself. It would only make him upset and he needed to stay calm while disciplining her.
He took a deep breath and answered her statement. "Natalie, you know you are not allowed to say those kind of words in public…"
"But DADDY says…"
"I don't care what Dean says. You're not allowed to say them in public, and you didn't listen to me. So when we get back into the room, you're sitting in Time Out until you can learn not to do those things."
Natalie couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sure, she knew that Sam didn't like those words, but if they made Dean laugh, then how could they be wrong? She tried to reason with him again, seeing that the motel was very close by now, and getting just a little bit nervous. "But Unca Sam, Daddy lets me say those words and he's the boss," she said haltingly, her gaze darting between Sam and the motel, her anxiety growing.
"Who's in charge when you Dad isn't around?" Sam immediately asked her, keeping his voice calm despite his growing frustrations. She had tried that one before, claiming that Dean was the boss, and therefore she had immunity in any given situation. It wasn't working this time. She wriggled nervously in his arms, knowing the answer wasn't going to help her case.
"Well…you…but…."
"No buts. I say you can't say those words, and you did." Sam marched down the sidewalk. They were moments away from getting back into the room where her fate would be sealed.
Natalie put her small hands on Sam's chest, and began gently shoving away from him. "Let me down, please. I wanna get down," she murmured, trying to break his hold on her. She only succeeded in getting him to re-double his grip.
"Stop it, Natalie. You're not getting down," Sam scolded, making the turn down the outside walkway towards their room. She folded her arms stubbornly.
"Then I'm NOT sitting in Time Out," she growled as fiercely as a five year old can.
Sam gave her a look that finally made her insides quake. "Oh yes you are," he said firmly, fishing the room key out of his jeans pocket. "And if you keep up this attitude, you're going to be there all afternoon." Her mouth dropped open in horror at the thought. She had gotten extra long Time Outs from Dean before for misbehaving, but never from Sam. She did not like this at all.
Sam walked right up to the door and made short work of the lock. Dropping his key on the table, he pulled a chair away and drug it towards the corner, keeping a firm grip on his niece the entire time. Keeping the chair facing the room for the moment, he set her down into it gently. He took a seat on the bed closest to her and leaned forward, his bent elbows on his knees and his hands clasped as he looked at her. She looked absolutely flabbergasted to find herself in this position.
Sam sighed, hoping that she would listen, and forced himself to make a calm, poignant face. "Alright Bug, five minutes, no talking. Do you understand?" He raised one eyebrow at her.
Natalie struggled for the right words that would make her uncle see reason. When she came up with nothing new, she went for an oldie but a goodie. "But I didn't do anything!" she protested, kicking her heels against the legs of the chair.
Sam set his mouth in a firm line. "Yes, you did," he said sternly, standing up. "You're not supposed to say those words, and you will sit in the corner and think about what you've done until you realize that." He took a step towards her chair. She knew that he would be there in about .3 seconds, so she let her eyes get as big as they could.
"Nooooo, Unca Sam…." she begged pitifully, her bottom lip trembling. Sam gritted his back teeth. Damn it, she was breaking out the puppy dog eyes. He knew she was one moment away from crocodile tears, so he had to act fast. He resolutely gripped the sides of her chair, and turned her right into the corner.
"Five minutes, no talking," he said, backing away from her. Natalie sat there, absolutely stunned. What the hell was this?! This wasn't fair! She balled up her hands into tiny fists, pounding the sides of her chair.
"Not fair," she muttered, just loud enough for Sam to hear. He chose to ignore it, however, hoping that this would be the end of her tantrum. He was wrong.
She yanked off her little sneakers and slammed them into the ground next to her, one foot at a time, huffing and puffing, absolutely furious with the whole situation. Throwing her shoes like that, however, was a step over the line for Sam.
"It'll just keep adding time on, Bug," he reminded her, forcing his tone to remain gentle. When she was in Time Out, she knew that she wasn't supposed to talk or throw a tantrum, or else she would have additional minutes added to her five. He could almost hear the wheels grinding in her brain, trying to figure out if putting up a fight was worth it or not. Finally, she crossed her arms tightly and sat back. Sam nodded to himself, pulled out his phone, and set the timer for six minutes.
Beyond furious now, Natalie couldn't help but try to think of another way to express her frustrations without getting into more trouble. She heaved her legs up onto the seat and crossed them. After ten seconds, even that wasn't enough for her. She leaned forward, her crossed arms resting on her crossed legs, and dropped her head forward with a huff. She looked like a tiny, silent, pouting turtle.
Sam watched her for the entire six minutes, wondering what she was thinking about and praying that she'd come up with the right answer when he asked her what she had done wrong. He hated having to punish her. He had always been the softie of the Winchester parenting duo, and he knew it. But he also knew that he couldn't let her get away with her actions, so he did what he had to do. Natalie was a smart little girl. She always learned from Time Outs, no matter how much she hated them. He wondered if she was thinking about not swearing, or thinking about the rules when Sam was in charge.
However, if he could see into her mind in that moment, her train of thought would have surprised him. She was straight up plotting her revenge. She was going to make his life a living hell when she got out of this stupid chair. She began mapping out her multi-layered plan.
Finally, the timer sounded on his phone. Sam quickly shut it off, and made his way back over to the pouting contortionist in the corner. Upon hearing his approaching footsteps, Natalie quickly unfolded herself and sat up. Taking this for a good sign, he turned her back around to face him, then resumed his previous seat on the bed.
"Alright Bug, what did you learn?" he asked in a falsely cheery voice, trying to make this rough situation a good one. She wasn't having it.
"That you're mean," she muttered in an angry little voice. Her words surprised him, and, if was being honest with himself, hurt a little. He knew she was acting out of anger, so he tried to swallow the small lump in his throat and adopt a serious, but caring look.
"Natalie, you are being very disrespectful," he said in a firm tone. That got her, he could see, as she crumpled her face and leaned forward again, resting her forehead on her folded arms. However, if he had realized what she was thinking, he might not have been so cavalier about it.
Disrespecting your elders was a MAJOR hot button for Dean Winchester, and she knew it. If Sam were to tell her father that she had been disrespectful, she would instantly lose any ground she hoped to gain with Dean when he got back. And, seeing as having Dean on her side was a must for her revenge plan, she knew she had to backpedal immediately. "M'sorry," she mumbled into her folded arms, praying that Sam wouldn't realize that she was sorry about her misstep, not sorry for saying he was mean.
To her relief, his lie detector didn't go off, because she technically WAS sorry about something. He nodded in acceptance of her apology, and continued. "That's better. Now, let's try this again. What did you learn while you were in Time Out?"
Natalie sighed heavily and answered woodenly. "Not to say swear words when you're in charge," she answered, still glaring as mutinously as she dared to while looking at him.
Sam would have preferred that she said 'not to swear at all', but it was a start. He nodded and smiled at her. "Good. I'm glad you learned that. You can get out of the chair now."
Natalie hurled herself out of the chair so fast that she tumbled right to the ground. But before Sam could do more than make a startled gesture towards her to see if she was okay, she bounced right back up on her feet. She crossed her arms tightly, gave him the stink eye, and unleashed her big plan.
"And when Daddy comes home, and I tell him what YOU did," she said in what she considered her most serious don't-mess-with-me voice, "YOU'RE gonna have to sit in Time Out!" she finished triumphantly. She was sure that Sam was now going to be quaking in his boots.
Seeing that she was deadly serious about all of this, Sam tried his hardest to smother his smile. He knew she was mad, but dammit- that was cute as hell. He responded in a gentle voice. "I don't think it works like that, Bug." Natalie crossed her arms even more tightly, mad that he wasn't scared of her threat.
"Not your Bug," she mumbled under her breath, but Sam caught it. For the second time in under five minutes, another lump formed in his throat. She had never said anything like that before. She had always delighted in the silly nickname that he had given her when she was three. He tried to remind himself that she was only five and not fully capable of looking at situations objectively, but all the psychology in the world didn't make that lump go away when he thought about what she had just said. He sat down at the table and pulled his laptop towards him, wanting to use it to chase away the thoughts.
Natalie watched him go with narrowed eyes. Once he sat down at the table, she stomped over towards her backpack with all her books and toys in it. She was supposed to keep all of her things together and not scatter them everywhere in the motel room, so if they had to make a quick retreat, she would be ready to go. But not today. Today, she had a plan for revenge.
She meticulously gathered her green army men- her 'Hulks', as she called them. One by one, she began lining them up along the edge of the couch where she slept. Satisfied with Phase One, she pulled her Ninja Turtles coloring book and box of crayons out next. Her eyes surreptitiously darted up to Sam. She was pleased to see that he was completely absorbed in whatever research he was doing. A small flame in her licked up, wanting to know what he was researching. But that would require her talking to him, and that wasn't happening. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she took a round about way towards Dean's bed. When she was positive Sam couldn't see her, she dove into Sam's duffle bag and snatched a pair of socks out, quickly pocketing them, just in case she needed them later. Phase Two complete.
With a grunt and a pull, she hauled herself up onto Dean's bed and proceeded to dump all her crayons in the middle of it. She then flipped through her coloring book, looking for the perfect picture to lock in Phase Three.
The rattle of the dumped crayons caught Sam's attention, dragging from the net he was trying to throw in cyberspace. He saw Natalie pawing through her book, settle on a picture, and begin coloring with a vengeance. "Whatcha coloring there?" he asked in a light voice, hoping to disperse her dark mood.
"Picture. For Daddy," Natalie answered back. There was a subtle hint of the subtext 'not for you' in her tone. Realizing that she was still mad, Sam just nodded, bobbing his eyebrows once to himself. He focused again on his laptop, but his mind wouldn't let him concentrate. He knew that she was mad, but she clearly didn't want to talk to him about it. He couldn't give her some reward in hopes that it would clear her foul temper, because he would undo the discipline he had managed to do. Not to mention, her proclamation that she wasn't 'his Bug' was still resonating in his head. Man, parenting was hard sometimes.
Natalie continued coloring in silence. Once Dean saw the wonderful picture that she was making him, it was sure to seal the deal for her to get Sam in trouble. The plan was essentially fool proof. Once she was done, she ripped the picture out of the book and laid it carefully at the foot of the bed for later, then slid off onto the ground.
The movement caused Sam to look up from his laptop again. Natalie was trotting away from the mess she'd left on the bed. Sam closed his eyes painfully, as he knew this was going to be another fight. "Natalie," he called gently. She turned to him. He instantly recognized the Dean-Winchester-come-at-me look in her eyes. He inhaled deeply and sat up. "You need to clean up your crayons if you're done with them."
She smiled falsely, tilting her head to the side. "I'm not done with them," she answered in a sugary sweet voice, then kept trotting to the couch.
"Are you done coloring for now?" Sam asked patiently. She shrugged. "Then you can pick them up until you decide to play with them again." She immediately changed her trajectory, and began walking back to him.
"I want to go outside, please," she said simply. Surprised by the sudden request, Sam stammered for a moment.
"Uh, well…okay, sorry, but we're not going outside right now," Sam said, getting his feet back underneath him. Dean would be back soon, so Sam wanted to stay close by. Not to mention, he was still a little scared that Pomeranian lady was still at the park.
She blinked at him, not understanding. "But I said please," she said, putting special emphasis on the magic word. "We were only outside for a little bit and I want to go back outside!"
"B-" Sam started, but stopped himself. He couldn't take it if she reminded him that she didn't want to be called 'Bug' anymore. "Natalie," he started again gently. "Just because you say please, that doesn't mean you're going to get what you want."
"WHY ARE YOU BEING SO MEAN?!"
Before Sam could recover from the shock of her sudden screams, she turned and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door. She withdrew Sam's socks from her pocket, and without further ado, dropped them into the toilet and shut the lid. She nodded. Served him right.
When she was done, she opened the bathroom door to find Sam standing outside of the door, reaching for the knob. He drew back his hand when he saw that she had voluntarily opened the door just as quickly as she had slammed it. She pushed past him and made her way to the couch. With a sigh, Sam turned around just in time to see her withdraw her Legos from her backpack. Great. She was about to make another mess, when she still hadn't cleaned up her crayons yet. Suddenly, her game became clear to him. He knew she planned on telling Dean about everything when he got in. And when there was a mess in the room, Dean was usually pretty mad about it. She was making the mess on purpose to make Dean mad at Sam. That clever little brat.
Sam took another deep breath, girded his loins, and went for it. "Natalie," he said in the sternest voice he could. "You are not allowed to play with your Legos until you clean up your crayons." She answered by dumping the entire bag of colored blocks on the floor. "Natalie Grace, I mean it." She started gathering the larger bricks and smashing them together. "I know you heard me." She balanced them on the edge of the coffee table, then stood up next to it, trying to see how high she could make the tower.
"You want to have to go to bed in the middle of the day?" he asked, breaking out his most powerful threat. He didn't want to do this, but he HAD to make her understand that he was the boss, and what he said goes. Almost lazily, she looked over at the couch, where it just occurred to Sam that she had dumped all her green army men out earlier. She returned to her Legos with a triumphant little smile. Here was yet again ANOTHER mess that she'd create if he forced her to lay down on the couch. Sam's jaw dropped open, fully realizing that she had planned this all along, anticipating Sam's moves perfectly. This kid was more like Dean than even HE had realized.
Very close to losing his temper, Sam walked right up to her, hands on his hips, all the playfulness gone out of his tone. "You have three seconds to take that tower down, or you're going back in Time Out," he threatened.
That finally got her attention. She looked up at him impassively. He narrowed his eyes at her, showing her that he meant business. She lifted her hand casually, and with a flick of her fingers, sent the Lego tower flying across the room. Sam was flabbergasted- she had NEVER behaved like this before- and then he was furious. And in that moment, Dean walked in.
Both of their heads turned towards him so fast they practically got whiplash. Abandoning all her toys, Natalie rushed over to Dean before Sam could lay claim. "DADDY!" she screeched, running full tilt at him. Dean's eyes went wide as the mini torpedo beelined it for his legs. In the nick of time, he reached down and scooped her up before she dislocated his kneecaps in her exuberance.
"Whoa there, Speed Racer," he grunted, heaving her up in his arms. "Miss me?" he teased, referring to her mad dash. But to his surprise, she suddenly started babbling in an angry voice. She was so mad and upset that she was tripping over her own words, and he was only catching about every third one. He got something about 'park' and 'Sam' and 'mean' and 'time out', but that was about it. He looked to Sam, utterly dazed and confused, hoping that he could shed a little light on the angry babble. He was, once again, shocked to see the anger and frustration on Sam's face too. As Natalie continued her loud diatribe, his eyes widened as he looked around the room and saw the mess she'd left. This was so off the beaten path for her that he was at a loss.
Knowing, however, that he had to get to the bottom of this before his eardrums exploded, he finally cut his daughter off loudly. "Hey, HEY!" he hollered over her. She finally stopped the gabbing and looked up at him innocently. Dean looked at her, then back at his brother. Not really knowing which way to step, he finally blurted out a joke.
"So. Looks like you two had a rough day," he said dryly. Taking another look at the pile of crayons on his bed and the Lego tower he'd just seen flying across the room, he made his choice of which was to go first. He looked at Sam. "What happened here?" he said, his voice steady and stern.
Before Sam could so much as inhale, Natalie started up again. "He made me sit in a Time Out! And I didn't…" she began in her banshee-like screeching. Dean shook his head, cutting her off mid-sentence.
"Not talkin' to you," he said in his no-nonsense tone. "You'll get your chance to explain."
Natalie's eyes grew wide. "But Daddy," she protested. Dean turned her head towards her, The Eye going strong. She instantly cut off her words with a little whimper. This wasn't going the way it was supposed to. She better back off for now.
"I said, you'll get your chance. Now hush," Dean scolded her again, before turning back to his brother. "Why does it look like Hiroshima in here?" His tone made it clear that Sam better tell the short version of this story.
Sam took a calming breath and explained. "Well, we were out at the park today, and Natalie decided to show off her new vocabulary word," he said in a clipped tone, raising an eyebrow in hopes that Dean would get what he was saying. Of course, he didn't.
Dean's confusion only deepened as he heard Sam's explanation. "Vocabulary word? What the hell does that mean?" he asked gruffly.
Sam sighed in frustration. "She swore, Dean. She knows she's not supposed to use language like that in public." When he saw the supremely unconcerned look on Dean's face, he panicked for a second. What if Dean didn't see this the way Sam did? He had no doubts that his brother would kick his ass if he thought Sam was in the wrong here. But he had to stand his ground, after Natalie had acted this way today.
Dean chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking, before turning to Natalie in his arms, still pouting that she had been silenced. "You swore, huh?" he said, his tone betraying his amusement. "What did you say?" he asked, curious.
She perked up, seeing that this was her 'in' to getting Sam in trouble. "I said that word that was in the movie last night!" she pronounced gleefully. Dean stammered for a moment and looked at Sam, just long enough to register the major Bitch Face he had adopted.
"Wait- she picked that up from the movie you two watched last night?" Sam asked in disbelief. "You told me it was a kid's movie!"
Dean shrugged evasively. "Well…okay, when I say KID'S movie, I mean, it's open to interpretation."
"Open to interpretation?! What the hell did you watch with her last night?" Sam shouted, suddenly furious at his brother for corrupting his niece yet again.
Dean refused to look at him. "Die Hard," he mumbled at the wall. Sam was nearly apoplectic with fury.
"OPEN TO INTERPRE…YOU LET HER WATCH DIE HARD?!"
"Oh, take the stick out, Sam, it's a classic."
"She's five, Dean!"
"So?"
"SO- a five year old shouldn't be watching Die Hard!"
"Hey! Out of all the crap she could have picked up from that movie, you should be grateful she's only cussing."
Sam threw up his hands in frustration and turned away. "Neither one of us should be raising a child," he muttered to himself, shaking his head, over this whole day.
Trying to get back to the heart of the matter, Dean turned to Natalie again. "So. You said something that you picked up from Die Hard last night, huh?" He ground his back teeth together, wondering if there was something to be said about Sam's declaration that she shouldn't be watching movies like that.
Natalie nodded, proud of herself. "Yup. I said bull-" Sam whipped around just in time to see Dean put his hand over his daughter's mouth.
"That's okay," he said grimly. "I got what you said." He lowered his hand, and caught Sam's eye, making a face that clearly said Happy? I stopped her swearing that time.
Delighted that Dean was finally on her side, Natalie patted his shoulder, her face dropping into an adorable little scowl. "And Unca Sam made me sit in Time Out because he doesn't think it's funny, and now HE should sit in a Time Out for being mean!" she said in a triumphant rush.
Dean walked towards his crayon-covered bed and sat on the edge, putting Natalie in his lap. He took a deep breath. This was so weird. A couple years ago, he never dreamed he'd be sitting on the edge of a bed to parent a five year old instead of just solely trying to discover the Monster of the Week. He closed his eyes briefly, contemplating this turn of events for the millionth time, and opened them again, focusing on the child sitting on his lap. Time to get down to this Family Business so he could get on with the other Family Business.
"Alright Squirt. So you said a bad word when you were out with Uncle Sam, huh?"
"I said a FUNNY word, Daddy."
"Natalie, you know that Uncle Sam don't find that crap funny."
"But you do and you're the boss."
"That's right. I am." He leaned down a bit and looked her right in the eye. "But who's the boss when I'm not around?"
Natalie fidgeted, not liking this turn in the conversation. "Unca Sam," she admitted quietly.
Dean nodded. "Mm-hm. And what does that mean?"
More fidgeting. "That…that I'm supposed to do what he says."
"And he's told you before not to swear, right?"
"Well…yeah…but…"
"No 'yeah but's. He told you not to swear. Yes or no."
"…yes, sir." Natalie turned her head and stared at her socks. That wasn't going to fly with Dean. He put his fingers under her chin and gently turned her face back to him. She wriggled and whined a bit, but he only tightened his grip on her.
"Knock it off," he scolded lightly in reference to her squirming. She instantly stopped. "So Uncle Sam was in charge, and you deliberately disobeyed him by saying bad words." Her eyes widened. She hadn't thought of it like that before…but when Dean put it that way….
Dean pulled her in so close, they were almost forehead to forehead. "You know I don't like it when you disobey, little girl," he said in that quiet, scary voice that was worse than yelling. Natalie cowered a bit, knowing that she had lost this battle. Her eyes began welling up, but she sniffed those tears back. Dean leaned back a bit, surveying the room again. "And it looks like you trashed this room, too. You did that because you were mad at Uncle Sam for punishing you, didn't you," he asked grimly. She nodded, miserable. "Does Uncle Sam deserve the Time Out you said he needed?" Dean asked firmly. She shook her head no. "Did YOU deserve the Time Out that you got?"
He waited, the million dollar question hanging in the air. She seemed to be thinking. After a couple more moments of silence, she turned and pushed herself off Dean's lap. He was so surprised by this- she never did this- that he let her go. She quietly padded back towards the chair that was still facing the corner, and climbed up in it, sitting there quietly without another word. Sam and Dean exchanged incredulous looks. What the hell was she doing? Dean cleared his throat and stood up, crossing over to the chair.
"Natalie, what are you doing?" he asked perplexedly.
"Time Out," she said quietly but stubbornly. Once again, the boys exchanged surprised looks. Sam came over to the chair too.
"You were already in Time Out today, Nat," he reminded her gently. She shook her head and crossed her arms.
"I didn't do it right the first time," she grumbled, determination permeating her voice. Sam looked at Dean, completely at a loss. She had always been hard on herself, but re-punishing herself? This was a new one. Were they really going to make her do this? Or more accurately, let her make herself do this? Dean shrugged back, indicating that it was Sam's call. He was the one who had been wronged, so the ball was in his court.
Sam went to reach for her, but gave Dean a final look, making sure this was truly okay. Dean just nodded with the briefest hint of a smile. Sam reached down and plucked the little brat out of the corner, and cuddled her into his chest. His anger and frustration began to slowly melt away at the one-on-one contact with her.
"Hey," he said gently. "There doesn't need to be any more Time Out today." Natalie wouldn't look him in the eye, but instead reached out and took a hold of one side of his flannel shirt. His heart broke a little when she did that. Ever since she was a baby, when she was truly upset about something, she latched onto their flannel shirts for comfort, like a baby blanket. He gently began rubbing her back, but he also needed to reassure himself that she had learned her lesson.
"You know what you did, right?" he prodded in a kind tone. Natalie nodded and inhaled sharply. Sam knew it was because she was trying not to cry. He wanted to set her little aching heart at ease, despite all of her misdeeds today. He didn't want to drag this out any longer. "Then I forgive you." At that, Natalie suddenly threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in the soft flannel collar. She burst into tears. Sam knew these weren't her crocodile-get-me-out-of-trouble tears. These were real. And real tears from this girl were rare. She was truly sorry.
He walked away from the corner, bouncing her gently as he made his way towards the center of the room. "Shhh, shhh, it's alright sweetheart," he murmured as she cried. "It's okay." He continued to rub circles on her back as she sobbed her contrite little heart out. She sat up for a second, looking him in the eye to make sure that he wasn't lying.
"I'm sorry that I was so bad, Unca Sam," she said, gulping and hiccupping as she tried to control her tears. "I just- I just…" Suddenly, she couldn't explain why she'd been so bad, why it had been so important to get her way. She was just over it all now. She looked up at him sadly. "I don't want you to be mad at me," she said, fat tears leaking down her cheeks. Sam looked at her eyes and saw just how very tired she was.
Suddenly getting it, Sam gently guided her back into his chest, kissing the top of her head. She hadn't had a nap in days- this was a new version of meltdown. The reason they hadn't seen this kind of behavior before was that they had changed her routine and she was feeling it. He felt a little guilty himself that he hadn't put two and two together until now. Maybe he did deserve that Time Out.
"I'm not mad at you, sweetheart," he murmured reassuringly. "You know what you did, and you're forgiven, okay? I'm glad that you learned. But it's all okay now."
From the cradle of his arms, Natalie gathered her courage. This had bothered her since she said it, but now she could ask about it and maybe, just maybe, undo some of her previous badness. She hadn't really meant it at the time, but she was afraid that maybe Sam thought that she had. She couldn't live with that. "Unca Sam?" she asked in a tiny voice.
"Yeah?"
"C-can I be your Bug again p-please?"
His heart nearly bursting with both sorrow and love, he cuddled her in tightly. "You never stopped being my Bug," he whispered lovingly.
She turned her face into his chest, crying from relief. Before Sam had made his way to his bed- the one soft surface in the room she hadn't destroyed, she had fallen asleep, worn out from all the crying and activity of the day. He gathered her blanket from the back of the couch before gently laying her down on his bed. Despite the emotional moments before, there was a slight smile on her face as she finally got her much-needed nap. He tucked her in nice and warm, smoothing back the hair from her damp cheeks. Once he was sure she was under, he turned back to Dean, who was rubbing his own eyes in exhaustion.
"Well, I guess No Naps was a bust, huh?" Dean asked, eying his petulant child sleeping like the little angel he knew she really was. Sam scoffed a laugh, and so did Dean, who made his way to the fridge for the beers that they both needed after that epic meltdown. Sam turned back once more to make sure Natalie was good. He noticed she was mumbling something in her sleep. He leaned down to hear it.
"Still Bug," she whispered with a contented sigh. Sam smiled.
"And always will be," he whispered back as his kissed her cheek.
