A/N: And here we go, another sneak update for "How To Fix A Winchester". This one is based off a prompt from KlainebowsHallowsRumbleroar, with some bullies roughing up Sammy, and Dean being awesome.
This is what came of it, and surprise, surprise, guys. I've never written a bitch/jerk origin fic, but this might count. I've never written anything contrary, so this could also be my canon contribution to the supernatural fandom regarding the long running bitch/jerk joke between the brothers.
So I always write my prompts in order, but coming up soon, I have two or three hypothermic Dean requests in a row. Since I'm not sure Dean's patient enough for that, I may mix them up just a little, so if it looks like your prompt was skipped, give me an update of two. I keep a list of every prompt sent, along with a date, so I don't think I will miss any, I'm just not sure I want three frozen Deans in a row ( oh, god, I love fan fiction. Who else but Fan fiction writers even get to say things like that? It sounds like a drink I should get to order at that imaginary bar the boys are going to open some day when the series ends.)
So, now that you all know my NaNo goals, keep the prompts coming. Remember, canon, hurt and comfort. Have a canon prompt idea that's a little darker or less focused on h/c? Feel free to submit it on my "Confessions of a Boy King" Project, which is canon Sam centered, though Dean is always a key player.
And, here is our NaNo inspiration for this update:
"A professional writer is an amateur who didn't quit." - Richard Bach
Reviews are Love! Best wishes to everyone gearing up the NaNo. If you start looking longingly at the roof, send me a PM, I'll talk you done, lol.
As Always,
EverReader
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox
How To Fix A Winchester- Chapter Fifteen
"The Unfortunate Thing About Fair Fights"
Sam snuck in as quietly as he could. John was three days out on a hunt, and hopefully Dean was still three hours out on his date.
The coast appeared clear, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He started towards the bathroom, intent on getting cleaned up before Dean-
"Hey, Sammy, that you? Casey canceled on me, want to go grab a pizza?"
Sam froze, reluctant to turn around and let his brother get a good look at him.
"Sammy?" Dean's voice was closer now, and Sam hunched inward, resisting the urge to simply bolt for the bathroom.
"Umm, I'm not really hungry..." He stammered out, edging towards the safety of the doorway.
"SAMMY!" Dean's voice sharpened, just as Sam felt a hand on his arm pivot him around to face his older brother.
"Dean, it's not as bad as it-" He started, but his brother cut him off.
"What the HELL happened? Who did this to you? Are they still breathing? How many were there?" The questions flew from Dean, even as he knelt to get a closer inspection of Sam's face.
Sam shook his head. "It's cool, Dean. I'm fine."
"The hell you are. Start. Talking." Dean ordered.
Sam pressed his lips together mutinously.
Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural
Dean repressed his angry shaking sheer force of will.
The kid looked horrible, one eye already black, lip split, scrapes and scratches on his palms and knees.
Hell, the kid had come out of his last go-round with a black dog looking better than this.
He dabbled alcohol on the cut on Sam's temple as delicately as he could.
Sam winced but didn't say anything. He'd stopped complaining about things like pain years ago, much to Dean's chagrin.
It had been much easier to know who the hell to fucking destroy when the kid had still been willing to come crying to Dean when someone hurt him.
"Sam, I swear to god, if you don't tell me who did this, I will go to school and just start pounding on people until the odds are in my favor that at least one of them was the asshole that did this." Dean threatened.
"No, you won't." Sam retorted tiredly.
"What, are you telling me you won? That the other guy looks worse?" Dean pressed on.
Sam looked away, and Dean repressed another slew of angry words.
The thing was, Sam was tough, and a hell of a street fighter. He was small for his age, always had been, and it had forced him to learn how to handle himself.
John's training had only been icing on the cake, but that was the problem.
Sam had gotten it into his head that John's training had given him an unfair advantage. He was non-violent by nature, and the fact that he was so good at fighting back bothered him.
He'd let some asshole win this round, because he thought it was right.
"Where were you?" He asked instead.
Sam mumbled something.
"What was that?" Dean said.
Sam sighed. "The library. I was walking home from the library."
"So, that's where I should go look for the bodies?" Dean joked, trying to loosen Sam up so he would speak to him.
Sam shot him a classic bitch-face.
Dean sighed. "Sam, if you think I won't go rough up jerks on the playground until I get the truth out of someone, you haven't been paying attention."
"Dean, I don't want you to beat them up. If I had wanted them hurt, I could have done it myself." Sam said quietly.
"Than why the hell didn't you fight back, Sam?" Dean asked in exasperation.
"Because, then I'm like them. Like Dad always says, there's no such thing as a fair fight." Sam replied.
"Yeah, he also says not to hesitate before hitting them over the head with a brick if you have too." Dean pointed out. "Sam, no one starts a fight unless they can win it. They go in to it thinking they have an advantage on you. If they miscalculate, that's on them."
"No. If I hurt someone, just because they hurt me, that's on me,Dean. It's enough to be able to take care of myself. If they'd started to seriously hurt me, I could have stopped them. But this?" Sam gestured at his face. "This is nothing. Their just big time jerks in a small time town. I don't need to beat them up to feel better."
"I'd settle for them not trying to redecorate your face." Dean snarked. This non-violent attitude of Sam's was getting tiresome.
"So, who was it?" Dean asked.
"Not. Telling. Not unless you promise not to hurt them." Sam said mulishly.
"Sam." Dean said in aggravation.
"No."
"SAM!"
"Still no."
Dean ran his hands through his hair, leaving it standing up in places. "Alright. Fine. I won't hurt them."
"If your not going to hurt them, why do you want to know?" Sam asked suspiciously.
"So I can write their parents a very stern note." Dean snapped back. "No, Sam. Because if it happens again, I will remove their spleens myself. And your are going to tell me, or so help me god, I won't let you go back to school until every last single bruise heals."
Sam's mouth opened in shock. "Dean, that could take a week!"
"Maybe two, little brother, start talking." Dean replied.
Sam sighed, shoulder's slumping. "You promise not to hurt them?"
"I won't lay a finger on them. Cross my heart and hope to die." Dean said.
"Fine." Sam acquiesced.
Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural
Dean sat in the Impala, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he waited for his prey.
Finally he spotted the two assholes.
One was in a letter jacket, and the other was a ginger, just like Sam had described.
Bingo, baby.
Dean started the Impala, timing his acceleration towards the intersection just as the two older kids started to cross the road.
Two sets of frightened eyes looked up in shock as Dean sped towards them, but they remained frozen, like deer pinned down by the Impala's headlights.
At the very (very, very, very) last second, Dean slammed on his brakes, the car screaming to a stop mere inches from the two bullies.
Dean opened his door, flipping out his Bowie knife as he sauntered up to the two assholes.
"Do you know who I am?" He said in his most dangerous voice.
"You're...you're that Winchester kid's older brother..." One of them stammered, as they nearly tripped over their own feet trying to back away from Dean.
"Sam. His name, is Sam. And I'm not just his older brother. I'm in charge of making sure assholes like you don't go around treating him like a punching bag. Unfortunately for you..." Dean had now back the two boys against the wall of the nearby ally. "You've already committed that sin."
Dean twirled his knife between his fingers as the eyes of the two other boys locked onto the blade.
"Holy shit!" The red-haired one squeaked.
"So what, I ask is, is an older brother to do. You two..." He pointed the knife at first one, then the other. "Hurt my brother. NO ONE...hurts...my...brother."
Dean advanced threateningly.
"Shit, man. We're sorry. We didn't mean too..." The letter jacket said.
Dean snorted. "You didn't mean to give him a black eye?"
"We meant to hit the other kid, put Sam pushed him out of the way. He ran off, and your brother was just standing there, man. Like he was asking for it."
Dean lunged forward, and both boys heads smacked into the concrete as they recoiled instinctively.
"So, you tried to rough someone up, and when Sam stopped you, you took it out on him?" Dean was now holding the knife only a few inches from letter-jacket's face.
The kid nodded, eyes wide with fear. "But, we're really, really sorry."
They were nearly crying with fear now, and Dean smiled ferally. "I don't think I believe you..."
The kids spent the next two minutes sniveling as they attempted to reassure Dean that they were, in fact, sincerely, utterly and completely sorry.
"Lucky for you two assholes, I promised my little brother I wouldn't bring home any body parts tonight. But...don't...do...it...again."
Dean took a step back, and the two frightened boys sped off down the ally.
"Feel better?" An accusing voice asked from behind Dean.
Dean turned slowly, cursing his bad luck as he looked at Sam. "Actually, yeah. At least now I understand. You decided you picked the fight, by covering for the other kid. You didn't want it to be unfair."
"And you promised, Dean. You promised." Sam said, nearly in tears.
Dean walked forward quickly, catching Sam's chin and making him look up at him. "I promised I wouldn't lay a hand on them, and I didn't. But no one hurts you, ever, without dealing with me, do you understand that? I don't care how old you are, or how big you are. I don't care if you started it, earned it, deserved it or asked for it. If someone hurts you, they are going to deal with me. I will rain down hell on anyone who hurts you. Deal with it."
Sam swallowed hard. "I don't want more people to get hurt cause of me." He whispered.
"Sam, less people are going to get hurt because of you. You helped that kid, and those two boys just about pissed themselves just now. They'll think twice about screwing with somebody next time. You didn't start it. They did, and I finished it." Dean said reassuringly.
"It doesn't work that way, Dean." Sam said morosely.
Dean slung an arm around his shoulder, steering him towards the Impala.
"Sure it does, in our family. You can save all the nerds you want. Start a nerd protection foundation, a endangered geek society. You can have infomercials and fundraisers and flyers."
"Deeaannn." Sam said, laughing despite himself as Dean carried on with the endless possibilities of Sam Winchester's Save The Nerds campaign.
"Hey, this could work. You save the nerds. I save you. Together, along with our faithful Impala, we'll put fear into the hearts of bullies everywhere." Dean joked.
"You're such a jerk." Sam said, finally giving in fully to his grin.
"Bitch, bitch, bitch. I swear that's all you do. Here I am, trying to help..."