If You Dare Challenge - #8 (Never bite the hand that feeds you)
October Writing Month (1197)
Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #214 (Pizza)
356 Prompts Challenge - #148 (hurt/comfort)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The boisterousness in the other boys obviously bothered Dean. Sonny observed that he was always trying to put himself between the other boys and his brother, but it was impossible with the number of children at Sonny's place. He tried to balance the volume of his voice; if he spoke too quietly, then the children would ignore him, but if he spoke too loudly, both Sam and Dean feel threatened, sometimes visibly shaking in fear.
It was Mason's turn to set the table that night, so as soon as Sonny finished cooking, he told all the boys to meet in the dining room so he could introduce their new arrivals. "This is Sam and Dean Winchester," he said, gesturing to the boys. "They're going to stay with us for a while."
One of the more rambunctious boys piped up. "What'd he do?" he said, jerking his chin at Sam. "Rob a toy store?"
A few chuckles erupted from the boys, but Sonny cut them off with a quick glare. "Unless you want to be cleaning the barn for the next month, Ethan, I suggest you show our new guests some respect." He instructed the rest of the boys to introduce themselves, and the first boy immediately stepped up.
He smiled at the Winchesters. "I'm Castiel." Castiel was one of his nicest kids; he never fought, talked back, or refused to do his chores. He'd only ever seen the boy get angry when the older boys started picking on the younger ones. Castiel was the mediator; he was the peacekeeper. He'd been here for almost three years and had been a blessing for Sonny. "Welcome to Sonny's."
Dean had not let go of Sam since Sonny had removed his handcuffs, but he could tell that Dean's arms were trembling. "Sam, Dean? Would you like to tell us something about yourselves?"
Dean merely scowled at the other boys, wrapping his arms around his brother, and Sam buried his head in Dean's shoulder. "Any of you touch my brother," he said finally, "and I'll kill you myself."
Dinner was quiet that evening. Dean and Sam were extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation; their anxiety radiated over the table. Sam was so terrified that he needed constant comfort from Dean; their chairs were pressed together, and Sam was practically sitting in Dean's lap. They hadn't touched their food, so Sonny cleared his throat. "You can start eating, boys."
Sam looked to Dean, panicked. Dean glared at Sonny, but reluctantly tasted the mashed potatoes in front of him, then the pizza. He nodded to Sam once he had, and the boy took a few seconds of hesitation before devouring his food as though he hadn't seen a proper meal in days. The thought rang in his head like a bell until he realized that the boys actually hadn't seen a proper meal in days. Weeks, even. He took another good look at the boys; they were thin. Every bone in their bodies seemed to be protruding slightly as though they had no fat on them at all.
Dean, although he was much skinnier than his brother, barely touched his food. He looked longingly at it—he couldn't hide his hunger—but he bit his lip as if to stop himself from eating. Sam, however, devoured his food and gazed at the bowl of mashed potatoes, licking his lips. He glanced at Dean for permission, which was granted with a subtle jerk of his chin. Sam made a tiny, excited sound in response and began happily serving himself. "You can eat, too, if you'd like, Dean," Sonny said. "There's more than enough for everyone."
Dean responded by slowly scraping his food onto his brother's plate. The other boys around the table watched the brothers' interaction, mildly curious. Throughout the meal, Dean ate only one bite of each food item. Soon, the boys were taking their plates into the kitchen. "Dean," Sonny said, and the boy flinched. "You've got to eat something—I can make you something else if you want."
Dean shook his head, picking Sam up. "I'm fine, sir," he said.
"Are you sure?"
His expression was cold. "Yes, sir."
Sonny assumed that the ride or something else had made him nauseous; he would make sure Dean ate in the morning. "Well, we might as well get you two situated, hm? Follow me."
The boys hesitantly followed him. Dean put Sam down and held his hand as they went up the stairs. Sonny gestured to the large room where the kids slept. "You'll sleep in here." He pushed the door open, revealing a roomful of bunk beds. I usually put your beds in age order, but I thought you would want to be near each other, so you've got one bunk bed all to yourselves. You can write your name on a piece of paper and tape it up there. The blankets and everything are clean, so there's no need to worry about that…" Sonny racked his head for more information he needed to tell them. "Ah… Do you boys have your things?" Dean raised a small bag. "That all?" He nodded. "Do you have… a toothbrush, pajamas, all that?"
Dean nodded again while Sam shook his head. Dean looked down at Sonny's shoes. "We're fine, sir."
Sonny quickly realized that Sam and Dean did not have everything they needed. "It's alright. We'll get you new stuff; for now, one of the other boys can lend you some pajamas. I've got extra toothbrushes in the bathroom in the cabinet. If there's anything else you need, just ask."
As it turned out, Castiel and a few of the other boys were more than willing to share their belongings with the Winchesters. Grateful, Sonny placed the items on their respective beds and told Sam and Dean, "Write your birthday into the calendar, boys. If it happens while we're here, we don't want to miss it."
Dean lifted Sam up to the hanging calendar so he could write in his own birthday: May 2nd. However, when it came to be Dean's turn, the older boy stopped. Dates ran through his mind: November 2nd, the day his mother died; August 11th, Sammy's first day of school; February 26th, the first time he killed a monster… He didn't know his birthday. He had a fuzzy memory of a cake and some candles, but no date. He put the marker down.
Sam pulled at his brother's pant leg. "Dean?"
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"Why didn't you eat anything at dinner?"
Dean's face hardened, and he glanced around for other people before answering. Except instead of English, it was in a different language."Scis, Sammy…"
The little boy frowned. "Vos autem putat—"
"Ita."
"Oh."
"Audite me, Sammy, hic vos can non tantum… comfortable, bene? Mihi non placet… His autumn non maneat. Nos postulo ut Dad."
"Autem Daddy—"
"Nee illi. Invocate eum dum odit."
"I paenitet…"
Sonny cleared his throat and entered the room, smiling at the two boys. "You finish up?"
Surprised by his arrival, Dean pushed Sam behind him. "Yes, sir," he said.
"You don't have to call me 'sir,'" Sonny told him. It was polite but unnecessary. "'Sonny' is fine."
Dean didn't answer.
A/N: Thanks for reading! For those of you who don't read Latin, like me, here's the translation. If you do read Latin, I'm sorry because I just used Google translate to get my Latin for the boys.
Scis = You know
Vos autem putat = You think that
Ita = yes
Audite me = listen to me
Hic vos can non tantum "comfortable," bene? = you can't get comfortable here, okay?
Mihi non placet = I don't like
Hic autem non maneat = we will not stay here
Nos postulo ut Dad = We need to find Dad
Autem = but
Nee illi = don't call him that
Invocate ehm dum odit = He hates it when you call him that
I paenitet = I'm sorry