Hey SPN Family! What's up? Happy Saturday! Not gonna lie. This one is straight up fluff. Like rot your teeth fluff. If you want something a little more gritty, go back and read the past three chapters :) This one was born out of season 1 episode 2 and letting my mind wander, hee hee. Special thanks to Jenmm31 for notes and encouragement!
For those who have made requests, please know I'm still thinking/working/ruminating. I have a TERRIBLE turn around time and the attention span of a goldfish, so until the seed sprouts in my tired lil brain, there's just no hope. But please know that if I have responded to you about an idea, I've got a notebook where plot ideas go and I'm constantly circling it. It'll happen!
Stay safe, be smart, wash your hands. Love you bitches and jerks and assbutts and idjits.
A/N- in this story, Natalie is 7. Please see profile page for disclaimers.
"C'mon, let's go!" Sam hollered over his shoulder. He hefted the weapons duffle and his own clothing duffle onto his shoulders. He instantly regretted trying to carry both of them at the same time, but they were in a hurry to vacate the motel. The last hunt…well, they HAD to destroy that house in order to get to the graves that were underneath it, and how were they supposed to know that the people of the town were going to take it so poorly? It wasn't like any of the OTHER houses around it had caught fire. And yeah sure, it had been a historical landmark for the town, but unless they WANTED the spirits in the house to keep murdering people…well, you can't please everyone.
Sam struggled through the doorway and out towards the Impala. He set the bags on the ground before reaching into his pocket for the car keys. Normally, his brother was the only one who was allowed to even touch Baby's keys, but Dean was in charge of the last minute gathering-of-stray-socks-and-other-various-accouterment that accompanied life with a seven-year-old. Sam chuckled quietly to himself. He had definitely gotten the easier of the two jobs.
Natalie was off the charts this morning, jumping on the bed with manic energy while Sam and Dean rushed to pack up and get out. Normally, Sam wouldn't allow that kind of behavior from her, but seeing as it kept her out of the way and possibly burned off some energy before the ten hours it was going to take to get back to North Dakota, he let it slide. He had warned her to be careful, and checked to make sure she was bouncing in the center of the bed, but otherwise gritted his teeth and turned the other way.
She had done her due diligence already. Her little pink and blue backpack had been carefully packed last night before going to bed. It was a rule in their family. At the end of the day, she was supposed to pack everything up, just in case something like this very thing happened. They needed to be ready to go at a moment's notice. She was very good about it, rarely grumbling if she had to disassemble her Legos or put her crayons in the box before going to sleep. More often, she was grumbling about being put to bed. The only reason that they hadn't packed up and left the moment they returned to the motel at 3 this morning was that the kid was actually sleeping. That was rare in and of itself enough to let her sleep out the night and hustle to get out at first light.
Sam shook his head with a smile as he hauled the heavy bags into the trunk. Allegedly, she had gone to bed without a fuss last night, according to the babysitter. Maria said that Natalie had wrangled three bedtime stories out of her before passing out. Sam had been impressed with Maria's resilience. Natalie had been known to use every excuse in the book with her babysitters to get out of bed, including begging, tears, and cash bribes (he still didn't know where she had gotten that fifty-dollar bill she offered the babysitter that one time in Boise). The kid was resourceful. She was also resentful that she even needed a babysitter at age seven, but neither Sam nor Dean were budging on that one.
Carefully arranging the duffles in the trunk so there would be room for the others, Sam quickly walked back towards the motel room. Natalie was now jumping in circles on the bed, squealing delightedly to herself as she did so. Sam bit his tongue and turned to his brother. "Got everything?" he asked.
Dean was doing his final sweep, and nodded almost absentmindedly to himself. "Yeah, yeah, I think so. Well, almost," he mumbled, his eyes searching. He held up a small purple sock. "Did the other one of these get tossed in somewhere?" he asked, his eyes continuing to scan the room.
"It's in my backpack!" Natalie said in a singsong voice from the bed, her voice jarring as she bounced. Dean rolled his eyes.
"You've been watching me search for this damn thing for the last five minutes and you didn't say anything?"
"You didn't ask."
Rolling his eyes yet again, Dean moved over towards the bed, plucking her out of mid-air. She giggled at the sudden interruption. He set her down, holding her steady for a minute while her equilibrium returned to normal. Once she was good, he gave her a swift but gentle smack on the butt to get her moving. "Go hit the head, Bouncy McGee. Wheels up in two," he said. She skipped off to the bathroom, closing the door carefully. Dean snatched her backpack from the couch, opened it quickly, and withdrew the purple sock that was right on top. He shook his head in consternation again, holding the sock out to Sam.
"Dude, what has my life become?" Dean moaned, holding the tiny piece of clothing out to his brother. "I used to chase tail, now I'm chasing laundry," he grumbled.
"Shut up," Sam teased. "You know you love it." Dean's answering grin confirmed Sam's words as he balled up the socks and zipped them back up in his daughter's bag, leaving it for her to get. He then picked up Natalie's small duffle bag with all her clothing and her favorite blanket, then walked back to his own bed, picking up his much larger clothing duffle. "Dude, grab the snack bag. And give me the keys," he ordered, holding his hand out.
"Trunk's open."
"You left the freaking trunk of the Impala open? What's wrong with you?"
"Dude, my bag is sitting on top of the compartment. And you seriously think anyone's going to steal my duffle, which is half full of dirty laundry?"
Dean thought a moment, then tilted his head in consent. "Yeah, don't nobody wanna touch your stanky ass clothes," he said.
"What's stanky ass mean?" Natalie said, suddenly appearing from the bathroom, wiping her just-washed hands on her shirt. Before Sam could reprimand her for swearing yet again, or not using a towel, Dean answered.
"It's what your uncle's dirty laundry smells like."
"Oh."
"Natalie, you know better," was all Sam had to say. She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, looking exactly like her father.
"I'm sorry," she said in a tone that was more conciliatory than asking for forgiveness. Sam ignored the usual rush in his blood from her lie at being sorry and picked up the snack bag. He stopped, surprised. It felt lighter than usual. Hadn't they just gone shopping a day ago, making sure that there was plenty of food before they left Natalie for the night?
Sam turned, wanting to set the bag down and look at its contents, but a quick glance at the radio clock on the nightstand between the two beds made him stop. They needed to get moving NOW. He gestured to his niece. "C'mon Bug. You good to go?"
"Yup!" she said, racing over to her backpack and hauling it onto her shoulders, heading for the door. Sam resisted the urge to reach out to her and take her hand. That was considered 'baby' behavior in her mind, and she was determined to prove that she wasn't a baby any longer. He followed closely as she skipped her way out to the car, opening the back door on Sam's side and clambering in. Sam, watching out for her fingers, carefully closed the door for her as she began setting up the backseat they way she liked it for these long hauls.
Sam tossed the snack bag in on his side, closed the door, and headed back into the room quickly. Dean finished arranging the duffles in the trunk, shut it, and joined his brother for the last once over. Checking out wasn't necessarily a good option right now, but that was also nothing new. They would just leave the door open and a stack of cash on the table. That somehow absolved Sam from the slight pang of guilt at not following the rules, but again, still better than the glares, accusations, and nasty things that could get thrown their way with Natalie in tow. Once both boys were satisfied that they had everything, and after leaving the cash, they were both back in the Impala. Baby roared to life, and they were off.
Dean looked in the rearview mirror at his daughter. Natalie was still setting everything up in the backseat carefully. It was a very specific ritual at this point. She liked having her school work on the seat to the left of her, her toys on the ledge behind the backseat (her Elsa doll tucked over towards the side window so it wouldn't create a glare off the sequins on her dress and distract Dean while he was driving), and her crayons and coloring books in the backpack on the floorboards at her feet where they wouldn't get hot enough to melt. Dean grinned as she continued her set up- he knew it as well as she did at this point, and for some reason, that familiarity always made him smile. "How's the set up going, squirt?" he asked.
"Got it," she said, satisfied as she placed the last pile of army men on the ledge and twisted back into place.
"Wow, I think you set a new record on that this time, kid."
"Yeah. I'm pretty awesome at it at this point."
"What's on tap for school today?" Dean asked, his gaze wandering over to his brother as Natalie bounced gleefully in the backseat. He chalked up her extra energy at the flurry of activity first thing in the morning and the idea of going home to Bobby's house. Sam was rubbing his eyes tiredly, but stopped upon hearing Dean's question.
"Uh, I think we're doing science stuff today," he said, trying to remember where they were in the lesson plans. He suddenly realized that in his rush to leave this morning, he had stuffed his books in his duffle instead of putting them in the front with him like normal. "Crap," he moaned, turning to his brother.
"What's wrong?"
"I put her school work in my bag in the trunk. I was tired this morning, and forgot."
Dean shrugged and tried not to look annoyed. "We'll stop in a couple exits and pull them out. I wanna get some distance between us and that town first." Sam nodded and sat back, rubbing his tired eyes again.
"Ew, gross. Does that mean the books are gonna smell like your stanky ass?" Natalie said in a chirpy voice. Dean's laughter almost drown out Sam's displeased utterance. He whipped around in his seat.
"Natalie, I already warned you once about swearing today," he said in a threatening tone. She immediately bit her lip and tried to look contrite, but Dean's laughter wasn't helping her keep a straight face. Sam sighed heavily, wondering why HE was the one disciplining the child yet again. "Take out a piece of paper and write 'I will not swear' fifty times." The laughter immediately fell off her face as her jaw dropped.
"Aw, come on!" she whined. "Dad thinks it's funny." Her eyes sought her father's in the rearview mirror, pleading for help. Dean gathered himself with effort, taking a deep breath to counteract the mirth.
"You only need to write it twenty five times, squirt."
"Dean!"
"Take the stick out of your ass, Sam. She'll still get the message."
"Not if you're laughing every time she does it, she won't."
Dean ignored Sam's accusation, and focused back on his daughter. "Twenty-five. Chop chop." Natalie huffed in frustration, but didn't say anything. She knew if she complained about twenty-five, Dean was more likely to change it to one hundred for defying him rather than let her off the hook completely. She clenched her teeth and sulkily pulled out her notebook, getting to work.
Once satisfied that she was occupied, Dean addressed Sam. "Hey, I hit 70 west till we get to Alabama, right?" he asked. He knew that was the way to go, but he was checking in to see if Sam was going to be sulking right along with his niece at Dean's interference. Sam shook himself again, the fuzz in his brain starting to be more prominent now that the rush of the morning was over.
"Uh, yeah…that's…yeah," he said, stretching his eyes wide and focusing on his brother, no hint of malice or frustration in his voice.
Dean nodded, stealing a quick look at his brother. "We need to get coffee wherever we stop. You're running on fumes, buddy boy."
"Yeah, no kidding," Sam said back, now not even trying to hide the exhaustion. He looked over at Dean. "You okay?"
"I'm always okay."
"Last time you said that, you started hallucinating sheep in the middle of the road."
"That was different."
"How?"
"Shut up."
"Well, if you start seeing any sheep, pull over."
About ten minutes later, Dean decided that was long enough without coffee. He took the next available exit. Just as he pulled off, Natalie thrust her paper over the front seat.
"Done," she announced. Sam took the paper from her hand, noted the numbered sentences and the neat, even handwriting. He nodded.
"Very good, Bug. Hopefully this will help you remember that swearing is not okay for someone of your age," he said in a patient, gentle voice. In tandem, Natalie and Dean rolled their eyes. Sam sighed heavily, giving up.
"You hungry?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Yeah! Can we get something at the Gas 'N Sip?" she asked, loving gas station junk food just like her father.
"We'll see," Sam said. "We've got some healthier options here first that you should try." Just as he reached for the snack bag at his feet, Natalie shrieked.
"NO!" she said loudly. Sam turned around in his seat, surprised by her sudden outburst. She instantly smoothed her face over.
"I mean, I don't like any of those snacks," she said in a calmer voice. "Can we please get something else?"
"What do you mean, you don't like them? You liked them last week."
"That was last week. This week they're different."
"They're the exact same as they were last week."
"They taste different this week."
"Okay, fine. They taste different this week," Sam said tiredly. He was never going to get used to the child's logic, and was too tired without coffee to try to untangle it. They pulled into the gas station. Natalie was still bouncing around like a wild thing, eager to see what junk food she could wrangle out of this trip. Deciding that he just needed to bite the bullet and get new snacks, he opened up the bag quickly to see what they were low on.
He was not expecting the 2 empty plus sized M&M bags.
He pulled them out, his jaw on the floor. "Dude!" he said, shaking the bags at Dean. "You went through two whole bags in a day?"
Dean did a double take. "Whoa, hold on. Who ate all the M&Ms?"
"Wait, you mean you didn't eat them?"
"Well, one bag. Yeah."
"DUDE!"
"Calm down Sammy. I only ate one of them."
"You- hang on. You only ate one? You didn't eat them both?"
"Hell no."
"Then who did?"
The answer came to them at the same time. They did a slow burn to the child in the backseat, who suddenly found the roof of the Impala very interesting.
"Natalie Grace, did you eat an entire plus sized bag of M&Ms yourself?" Sam asked sternly. Natalie fidgeted for a moment.
"I was hungry this morning," she said in a little voice. Sam rolled his eyes.
"You know very well that if you're hungry before we wake up to get a granola bar or fruit cup."
"But they taste weird and they didn't have any chocolate in them."
"She's got you there, Sam."
"Shut up, Dean."
"I didn't mean to eat the whole bag, Uncle Sam. It just kinda accidentally happened."
"So this is why you've been bouncing off the walls all morning," Sam said, shaking his head. "Well, no more junk food for you today."
"WHAT?!"
"You just ate your weight in M&Ms. You don't need anymore sugar today."
"Yes I do or I'll die!"
"Stop it. The only sugar you're having today is going to be in fruit." Natalie made a gagging sound, falling over in the seat. "Be dramatic all you want. You're not getting any more junk food today," Sam said, a sense of finality in his voice. The sound of a raspberry came from the backseat. Sam rolled his eyes again, reaching for the door handle.
"We could all use a day without extra sugar," Sam announced, opening the car door, already done with this entire trip. That caught both father and daughter's attention.
"What?!" they yelled together in unison. Sam gave Dean a bitch face before exiting the car. He leaned back in, ignoring their incredulous looks.
"It will be good for us. Teach you two some self control. Which you are both obviously lacking in. I'm going to get us something decent to eat. Stay put." Without waiting to hear the roar of protest that came out of both of them, Sam slammed the door and stalked towards the station, annoyed at the world.
Dean leaned back against the seat with an exasperated sigh. "Sorry kiddo, didn't realize the stick was so far up your uncle's ass this morning." Instead of the giggle he was expecting, he heard the crinkle of something familiar. A Kit-Kat suddenly came flying over the seat, landing in his lap.
"What the hell?" he muttered. He turned around to see Natalie holding another one up, smiling smugly. "Where did you get these, squirt?" he asked in wonder.
"I broke into the motel vending machine when we checked in," she said, so completely proud of herself that her grin was infectious. "Don't worry- I got more where that came from. Ain't gonna be no sugar ban for you and me today."
Dean smiled proudly. "That's my girl," he said, chuckling.
