Beautiful Innocence
By: chocolate rules
A/N: OK, I lied. I'm holding out on the supernatural for a few more chapters. I got another idea as I was writing this chapter and I think I'll go with that one instead. Originally, the big bad of the sotry was going to make it's appearance in the next chapter... but it won't so don't wait up for it, lol.
Also, if you read my profile, you'll see that I changed the title of this chapter. That other chapter will come in later. Before the big bad. If you read it, then when you see the title, you'll have a heads up:D
Chapter 4: Check In, Call Out
They're in the car, driving home and the silence and eerie. Sam is curled into himself as he watches the passing houses and people on the sidewalk. Dean's tense. He's gripping the wheel of the Impala, knuckles turning white.
Usually, there is quite a lively conversation that is mainly one-sided from Sam with Dean's occasional grunt of understanding. The kid loved to talk about what he'd done at school and what he had to do still, like they were rewards. Honestly, Dean preferred the days that Sam got into the car and said that he hated some teacher and there method of teaching or test or project, it didn't matter what it was just that it had pissed the kid of. It proved to Dean that they were in fact related.
Now, however, Dean was so not pleased with the kid it wasn't even funny. God, how could Sammy be so stupid! He could just let that happen to him. But Dean saw Sammy fighting them off, and the other kids, the one he'd nab and the one that had ran off, they probably would have held him down if he tried anything.
No, truth was that Dean wasn't mad at the kid, he was mad at himself.
Sam had been waiting for him like he told him to do and exactly where Dean told him he'd be. The kid had done nothing wrong, except maybe piss of the local bullies.
It was Dean's fault, he concluded, since he had stayed behind and just had had to talk with Natalie. Even if he had scored a date, he had left his baby brother unprotected and that was just unacceptable.
Of course none of this was going to be told to the younger when they got home.
Dean parked the car in their driveway and sat in the silent car. Sam looked at him, not sure if he was to wait for something or get his ass into the house. Then, Dean turned to him. He looked so pissed that Sam wished he had run off into the house. Truth was, he wasn't even sure what he was scared of. He had put up a good enough fight. Dean should appreciate that. Sam just wanted to get inside and get cleaned up.
Dean saw the fear and uncertainty in Sam's overall appearance the second he turned. Ok, so he was going to feel like an ass after this, but the kid had to learn to stand up for himself, not take shit.
"What the hell happened back there Sam?" Dean asked for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Sam looked down and that wasn't the answer he wanted.
Dean was very rarely rough with his brother and he would never, not ever, hurt the kid. They both knew that for given. But sometimes he really needed to pound some sense into that kid.
Dean reached over, grabbing Sam's chin and lifting it up to meet his gaze. Scared eyes met Dean's unfazing ones. They asked the question once more and Sam couldn't not respond.
"They followed me there. After school. And, I dunno, words were said and then he shoved me down. And we started to fight." Sam said very softly. Though he was look right at Dean's eyes, he really couldn't see what effect the words had on him quite yet.
Dean released his chin but they kept the gaze locked and his eyes gazed softened slightly.
"What did you say?" Dean asked leaning back on the seat, though not looking relaxed one bit. Sam knew that dean wasn't about to place the blame on him, heck he'll probably be pretty proud of him in fact. But Dean liked the entire story and he made his own decisions.
"They started with that same hell thing." Sam offered as a response.
"Sam, I already told you that was all fake." Dean said slightly irritated.
"I know, but…"shrugged Sam. He looked down, finally breaking the look.
Dean opened the car door and told Sam to follow. They entered the house silently, dropped off their bags, and went into the living room where Sam sat in the center of the couch awaiting any further questions.
Dean continued from the living room and into the bathroom where he retrieved the first aid kit. Or rather the hunter's survival kit because theirs was way packed with more things than any old first aid kit wouldn't have. He made his way back into the living room and kneeled in front of Sam. He placed the kit beside his brother and began to work.
"Talk," he said after wiping the dried blood from his face and checking his nose to make sure that it wasn't really broken or something.
And so Sam did. He said everything that he remembered them saying and his responses to them. Like he thought, by the time that he finished, Dean was flashing him his patented grin. Everything was ok.
"You can't let them get to you like that, Sammy," Dean said towards the end of his story. Sam nodded, which just made Dean roll his eyes because he was currently trying to place some kind of small Band-Aid on his cheek, but he keeps moving.
Dean made him lie down on the couch and he checked over his ribs and made sure that nothing there was broken. Granted, by now the kid probably would have been complaining about the pain, it was still in his nature to fuss over him.
And fuss he did since the whole time he spent checking over the possibilities he spent telling the kid how he should have blocked or counter blocked all the punches the little punk was throwing at him.
He followed the lecture, making Sam flip over to unnecessarily check over any bumps on his back and head, with how he should have never gotten in the fight in the first place. He ended that one telling Sam that he was to wait for him from now on in the building and then he'd pick him up right in front of the building.
"Come on, man," Sam said sitting up finally and rolling his eyes. He hugged his arms to his torso, which had been hurt but nothing more than busing would occur Dean assured him(self).
"Nope, unless you're looking for another one of those beatings, you're going to wait for your hero of a big brother in that school of yours like a good little boy, got it?" Dean said as he stood and flopped down on the couch beside Sam, leaving the kit on his other side.
"That's totally gay, man" whined Sam as he turned to look at him.
"Too bad, that's how it's going to be, Minion, and there will be no peep out of you otherwise," Dean said as he fished out the remote from the seat cushion, they always seemed to end up there when Sammy or Dad feel asleep watching something, and turned on the TV.
They stayed there, ignoring completely the mess that the morning meal had made and watched reruns of some crappy TV shows until Sam announced he was hungry and turned to him expecting some reaction obviously.
"Ugh! Fine!," said Dean as he shoved Sam off him and heaved himself off the couch and into the kitchen.
It was a mess, but he could easily work around it. Both boys seemed to drop the military upbringing the second their father left. It was only when their father called saying he was on his way back that they would go into a frenzy and get everything back in shape. It was pretty ugly when he didn't call.
So, Dean went off to make dinner, spaghetti and meatballs his personal favorite which he had perfected the last eight years since he first, uhum, burnt them. Great story, ask Sam. Sammy curled up by the armrest, grabbed the quilt that was always by the couch – cause someone always managed to fall asleep there – and settled in to watch some cartoons. Not two minutes into the show and the phone rings.
"Get that!" Dean yells from the kitchen, and sure the phone's an arm length's away from him, and he still doesn't want to get it. Riiinnnggg. "Dude! Today!" he calls out again and fine, he reaches over and brings the receiver to his ear, still watching the TV.
"Yeah," replies Sam into the device.
"Now, I know you were taught more manners than that young man," he hears his father say.
"Oh, hey, Dad," he says and he can't keep the tone of annoyance out of his voice. John had to know that was coming, Sammy hated it when he didn't say that he was leaving to him.
"Everything alright?" John asks ignoring his son's tone.
"Umhmm," Sam replies, attention on the TV still.
"Where's your brother?" he asks, knowing that when Sam's like this and they're on the phone the kid can be a real hardass.
"Dinner," was Sam's one word answer. Never mind that that didn't clarify whether he was out bringing home dinner or in the kitchen making dinner. No, everything was a mind game when it came to his youngest. However, knowing his eldest, he was pretty sure that he meant in the kitchen.
"Care to put him on?" he asked.
"Sure," Sam replied. He pulled the phone slightly away from his ear and yelled out to his brother. "Dean! Phone!"
"Bring it here, you dumbass! Unless you want to have milk for dinner." Sam groaned but lifted himself and walked over to the kitchen. Dean stood in a white apron that only covered over his jeans and a towel over his shoulder. My brother, the chef, thought Sam as he handed over the handheld device.
Sam walked back over to the couch and belly flopped down onto it. He could hear the slight murmur of his brother responding to their father. But since he could still hear the TV, which he had slightly turned down in consideration of the phone call, he was ok.
He was all into solving how the mystery murder was when he heard Dean hang up and the noises in the kitchen fade. He flipped over sharply when Dean hit his thigh and told him that Dad said to mind himself or else before flipping back onto his tummy with a 'yeah, yeah'.
Dean was making those cooking noises in the kitchen again and it turned out that the old lady with that one eyed cat had been the murder, and she would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for those…
RIIINNNNGGG
Sam rolled his eyes and wasn't this just his day. Sam sat back up as Dean yelled at him to get the phone again. This time, he opted to be nicer and satisfy Dad with his manners.
"Hello, who is calling?" he asked like a machine. Machine's have manners, right?
"Umm, Dean?" came a girl's voice.
"No, this is Sam, Dean's brother. Hold on, I'll get him." Sam said as he smirked at the thought of what he could potentially do with this call, i.e. the evil smirk. But then again, Dean was making his meal. He even opted to walk the phone over to him this time.
"What?" asked Dean as he saw Sam approach him.
"For you," he said holding out the phone. Dean made a face and Sam just shrug as Dean took the device once again.
"Hello?" he says into it and Sam's walking away, slowly since he kind of wants to know who this girl is – probably his brother's latest 'victim'. "Oh, hey Nat." Dean said as he held the phone with his shoulder and continued to cook. The spaghetti part of the meal was easy, but Dean liked to make his own sauce, which both Sam and Dad had learned to love, and that took some time.
Sam reached the couch and sat on the armrest as he continued to try and listen to the conversation. However, though the conversation lasted well over seven minutes, all he heard from Dean were 'uhuh', 'yeah', and 'sure'. Sam couldn't help thinking what a waste of time that had been as he plopped backwards onto the couch once more.
Dean came in, replaced the device and watched him for a second.
"Don't you have things to do?" he asks him. Sam looks up and nods. "Well?"
"Well what? Since when do you care about homework?"
"Mine, never. Yours is a different story." Yeah, and hadn't he heard that about everything in his life. Sam rolled his eyes. "Get it done," he says and walks back to the sweet smelling kitchen.
Sam pushes himself off the couch and walks over to his bag. He grabs a few of his things and goes back over to the couch. He sits crossed legged with his math book propped open in his lap and the notebook open on top of it, but all his attention is on the TV.
Ten minutes later and dinner's done. Dean comes in sees and shakes his head. Smart kid as Sam is, the lack of Dad around and suddenly there's more interesting things to do then the homework he insist he needs the extra time to do instead of sparring. He grabs the towel off his shoulder and swats Sam on the back of the head.
"Hey!" Sam says accusingly as he turns back to glare at him.
"I'm done. Go eat." He says as he starts walking towards the bathroom. Sam drops his books on the floor and rushes to eat. He's well into scooping his second serving, luckily Dean makes a bunch at a time, when Dean comes back from the bathroom bathed, shaven, and dressed.
"Where ya going?" Sammy asks him as he appears besides him. Dean looks at him oddly before grabbing the nearest towel and swabbing it over Sam's sauce covered face. "I knew that," Sam says once Dean's done.
"Out," replies Dean to his earlier question as he grabs himself a plate and snatches the utensil from Sam's hand.
"Out? But, Dad says that we can't go out when he's not here," Sam says and you'd think that the kid did everything the man told him to do.
"Not like he let's us out even if he is here, Sammy."
They're both sitting at the table now. Dean's eating, but Sam's just watching him with a kind of awe.
"What?" Dean says, meatball on his fork coming towards his mouth.
"Where you going?"
"Party. Natalie Sands called me and told me to come over. She has, like the biggest parties."
"Wait, so you're going to this party to get like drunk or something."
"God, Sammy. Look, I don't need a party to get trashed. I have A fake ID for that."
"Ok, fine. That's true enough. Though, Dad gave you that so that you could get yourself out of trouble not into it."
"What he doesn't know," Dean says placing another mouthful in. Sam nods and begins to eat again. What Dad doesn't know can't hurt them.
"And what am I 'posed to do?" Dean looks at him for a second, considers this. "I'm not going with you." Adds Sam quickly.
"No duh," Dean says with a roll of his eyes. Sure, he's taken the squirt to parties before, but only when it was really necessary since the kid seemed latched a corner at most occasions. "How about that friend of yours, Richey."
"What about him?"
"Well, you wanna go over to his place for a few hours?"
"Really?" Sam said looking up from where he was waging war with a meatball, which was winning. It was rare for them to go over anyone's house, and when they did it usually wasn't for fun. Dad never, not ever, let them go over other kid's houses. When Dad wasn't around however, which was increasingly becoming more and more common, Dean would let him go spend the afternoon at one of his friends house or even let a few come over.
"Yeah, if you want to. I mean, I'd tell you to call him over, but can't really leave you guys unchaperoned like that now can I?"
"Cool, I'll call him," Sam said, leaving his plate and rushing over to the phone.
It was only around five now, and there was a great possibility that Dean would stay at the party for quite some hours. Nat had mentioned that her father and stepmother had left to go to someone's bridal shower and bachelor party until Sunday and she was planning on throwing a whole bunch of parties. They seemed to go out of town a lot, so Nat was well known for her parties. People were known to spend entire weeks at one of these, but Dean wouldn't do that to Sammy. He did, however, plan to go to a few of these before their father got back.
Richey's mom said ok and then Sam headed off to shower, he had managed to get an awful lot of sauce on him. Dean teased him about needed a bib next time or would he have to start feeding him again as he emerged from the bathroom and rushed off to get dressed. Ten minutes later, both Winchesters were ready and heading out. The excess meal was stored away for later eating in the fridge and the mess around the kitchen grew.
"Dean, we've got to clean that soon," Sam said as he placed his plate on top of the breakfast plates and pans.
"Yeah, um tomorrow," Dean said as he put on his jacket. "Grab your books, help Richey out with his homework and do your own. I'll probably pick you up around nine, okay." Sammy nodded as he tossed his books back into his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Dean really didn't want to be done with the party so soon, but he wouldn't want to burden Mrs. Landis for too long. And besides, Sam had a bedtime to maintain and if Dad called again to check in and he missed it, well they'd be toast.
So, continuing on with their normal lives, will throw in a conflict in the next chapter, but it'll be a normal one. Plz review:D
