Title: Reader's Special: Second Edition - One Shot Reward Fic Collection
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: A collection of 1 Shot Reward Fics for Prompters of my Reader's Special: Third Edition. Features many seasons, hurt/limp/awesome/caring!Sam/Dean/John/Bobby See each chapter for specific info for each 1 shot reward fic.
Author's Note: The Reader's Special: Third Edition was a smashing success! Prompters of the story were offered a One Shot Reward story of their choice. These are they. None of the chapters contained in this collection are connected. Each one is a stand-alone one shot per the Prompters request. Thank you to all of you who prompted the Reader's Special! You were fantastic as always!
Chapter Info: For Frenzied Warrior - Set in pre-series. I would like a one-shot in which Dean is six/seven, Sammy is three. Daddy John drops the boys off at Bobby's as he runs off on a wild goose chase for the demon or whatever, leaving old man Singer to babysit. During their stay, Bobby finds out offhandedly that Dean can't read. Feeling pity for little Dean and fury for Johnny, Bobby takes it upon himself to teach him. Quiet/embarrassed/cute!Dean, obsessed/neglecting!John, teacher/snarky/awesome!Bobby, adorable!Sammy.
A/N: As requested, some wee!chester adorableness. :D Sam is 3 and Dean 7.
Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678 :D– Friend and Muse's co-conspirator.
**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!
~Reviews are Love~
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Bobby stood on his porch and watched the Impala's tail lights recede as John Winchester left. He turned and looked at the two boys behind him. Dean Winchester stood with the eyes of someone far older than seven looking up over top of his three-year-old brother's dark, shaggy head. Sam was propped on his big brother's shoulder, legs and stocking feet dangling in sleep as Dean held him.
"Come on, boys," Bobby said softly and smiled. He opened the door and let Dean walk carefully inside while he grabbed their bags and followed. Inwardly, he was seething at John for summarily dumping his children off in the middle of the night all because of something that might or might not have been the thing that killed his wife. Bobby scowled. He still thought the lead sounded like crap, but John wasn't listening, too far gone in his need for revenge just then to care.
"Uncle Bobby?" Dean looked up the long stairs and sighed.
"Hang on, buddy." Bobby hooked both boy's bags over his shoulder and then reached down. "Give 'im here, son." He gently pried a sleeping Sam from his brother's arms and cradled him in his own arms.
"Thanks." Dean swung feeling back into his arms and followed wearily up the stairs and down the hall to the room Bobby kept for them. Dean squeezed past the older man and climbed onto the far bed, kicked his shoes off and tossed the blankets back before raising his arms for his brother. "Gimme."
Bobby snorted fondly and lowered Sam down until Dean was cradling the toddler against him. "Feels a little warm."
Dean nodded. "S'got a cold." He pulled his little brother against him and smiled gratefully as Bobby tugged the blankets up over them. "I got him."
"Yeah, you do." Bobby tucked both boys in and rubbed a hand through Dean's spiky hair. "You yell if you need somethin'." Dean nodded at him and Bobby brushed his knuckles over little Sam's over-warm cheek. "Night, boys."
All the way back downstairs he silently cursed in his head at their father. His youngest was sick and he STILL dumped them off on Bobby's doorstep in the middle of the damn night. "Single-minded, stubborn, thick-headed jackass!" He growled as he went and sat at his desk. Bobby scrubbed a hand through his hair under his hat and sighed. "'Least he left 'em with me, I suppose."
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Bobby stirred the pot of chicken soup on the stove and cocked his head. He smiled. He could hear Sam's giggle as his big brother chased him in the living room.
"Read a book!" Sam's voice said in a high-pitched sing-song. "Dean! Dean! Read a book!"
Bobby chuckled when he heard Dean's groan and then Sam's squeal. He looked around the corner and saw Dean carrying his little brother to the couch where he flopped down out of sight with him. He listened to the sound of Dean's voice for a few minutes while the soup finished, then dished out two bowls and slid them on the table. Bobby strolled over to the living room and looked over Dean's shoulder to the book he held in front of Sam who was snuggled up in his brother's lap.
Bobby frowned. Dean was 'reading' the story to Sam but…he was clearly making up words that had nothing to do with what was actually on the page of the children's book. "Lunch is ready boys." Bobby said.
Dean jumped, whipping his head around to stare wide-eyed at Bobby and blushed furiously as he snapped the book closed. "Uh. Cool. Come on, tiger."
"More read a book!" Sam bounced in Dean's lap and grinned.
"Food, midget." Dean stood, taking Sam with him and made him walk into the kitchen.
"Dean…" Bobby started but how did you ask a proud seven year old why he didn't know how to read yet? He followed the boys into the kitchen and watched Dean pick his brother up and hoist him into a chair. "Hey, Sammy." Bobby smiled and leaned down to cup a hand around the three year old's face. He still felt warm like he had last night but not overly so.
"He's ok," Dean said and climbed up into the chair next to Sam. He ducked his head over his soup bowl, still embarrassed at Bobby finding him making up a story for his brother. He could read if he wanted to…he just didn't need to yet.
Bobby nodded and left them to it when his phone rang. He stepped back into the living room and answered it. "Singer."
"Bobby, need a little help with a symbol."
"Winchester." Bobby growled softly. He glanced back at the kitchen but neither of the boys had heard him. He went further into the house. "You wanna explain to me how a seven-year-old don't know how to read?"
"Huh…what?" John asked, completely confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Tell me Dean's been in school the last two years like he's supposed to be." Bobby's voice was low and angry, straining to not rise into a shout for the boy's sake. The silence on the other end of the line was eloquent and made him growl. "John Winchester, you dumb son of a…"
"Don't tell me how to raise my sons, Singer!" John shouted. "There are more important things than…"
"Than makin' sure your boys can count higher than ten or write their own damn names?" Bobby slammed out the back door. "Or you just gonna read counter-curses and exorcisms to them the rest of their lives? You really think their mother wouldn't kick your ass right now?" He got his temper back under control with difficulty.
"Look. We can talk about this when I get back." John snarled into the phone. "Right now, I need to know what the hell this damn symbol means."
"Havin' trouble reading are we?" Bobby asked sarcastically, unable to resist the jibe.
Bobby slammed back into the house a few minutes later and worked to bury his anger. Dean certainly didn't deserve it. He went into the kitchen and found the boys where he left them. Sam was leaned into Dean's side with his eyes closed and huddled under the arm curved over his shoulders. "Think maybe a nap might be in order."
Dean nodded and slurped up the rest of his soup. "He ate most of it." He pulled his brother into his lap and slid off his chair with a thump. "Sammy's just sleepy."
"M'not," Sam mumbled defiantly but slung his arms around his brother anyway.
Dean chuckled and grunted, picking him up. "Come on, runt."
Bobby watched Dean carry him out to the living room and decided something had to change. Those boys were way too smart and Sam absorbed knowledge like a sponge. He smiled and pulled his phone back out while Dean ended up on the couch with Sam curled into him and snoring softly. He needed some books from the local library.
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Dean came downstairs from his shower toweling his hair dry and frowned as he came into the living room. Sam was awake and sitting in Uncle Bobby's lap with an open book. "What's goin' on?"
Bobby smiled and patted the couch next to him. "Come're, son." He waited until Dean sat and pulled him in. "I'm teachin' Sam to read." He felt he boy jerk under his arm and kept hold of him. He knew there was no way he'd get Dean to admit on his own that he couldn't, but teaching Sam…Bobby smirked. Dean would make sure he was there for that.
"Dean!" Sam took his big brother's hand and pulled it over, pointing to the page in the book. "Tha's'a A!"
Bobby laughed and ruffled Sam's shaggy hair. "That it is, son. Good job!" He went through the 'learn to read' book his friend had brought him and felt Dean slowly relaxing against his side, realizing he wouldn't have to admit to being illiterate. As Bobby had suspected, Sam seemed to inhale the books and by the time they had dinner, he was pacing around the kitchen in a circle reading the simplest of the books out loud to himself with a grin. Dean sat at the table, finishing off the last of his brother's chips and surreptitiously looking at the book Bobby had left open in front of him.
Dean scowled, staring at a word he couldn't quite pronounce in his head. It wasn't one of Sammy's kids books. Bobby had dropped it on the table and it was all about cars. He scowled at the page and sighed; defeated. "Uncle Bobby, what's a carb…a carboo…"
"Carburetor." Bobby finished for him, pronouncing it slowly and smiled. "Tell ya' what. You go give Sam his shower tonight and tomorrow I'll show ya' where all those parts are in a car." He raised a finger as Dean's eyes widened happily. "IF you can name 'em for me."
"Yes, sir!" Dean practically bounced out of his seat. He tucked the car book under his arm and swept his little brother up with the other. "Come on, Sammy! Bath time!"
Bobby chuckled over Sam's squealing protests all the way up the stairs. "Idjits," He said fondly and went to pour himself a shot, a reward for a plan gone well.
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John Winchester pulled into Singer Salvage five days after he'd left, exhausted and hoping the older man would leave him alone about his sons until he'd had a full night's sleep. He climbed wearily out of the Impala and started for the house. He stopped with a foot on the bottom step as he heard Sam's unmistakable laugh coming from the garage further down. He dropped his head and didn't figure either one of his sons would forgive him for sneaking in without saying hello first.
"Dammit," John groaned and headed for the garage. His lead had turned out to be a wild goose chase, and he'd ended up having to chase down and kill a zombie Bokor Mambo instead, and THERE was something he hoped he never had to see again. Her lair and altar were going to figure in his nightmares for years to come. He pushed into the garage and his eyes widened in surprise. An old Charger stood in the center with its hood up. Sam lay on the cement floor with his feet up the side of the car and a book held over his face while Dean and Bobby both were leaned into the engine with Dean rambling off names of parts while Bobby grinned and nodded.
Sam rolled his head up and dropped his book as he scrambled to his feet. "Daddy!" Sam ran to the door and threw himself at his father's legs.
John grunted, staggered back a step and nodded when Dean looked up and smiled before climbing down off the car and coming over. John let his eyes meet Bobby's then and found a mixture of pride and anger in them. "Singer."
"Winchester." Bobby nodded. "Dean, why don't you take your brother inside. Get him cleaned up. Looks like he was rollin' in grease."
Dean snorted and peeled his little brother from their dad's legs. "Hey, Dad." He held up his book of cars with a wide grin. "Sammy and I been readin'."
John watched them head toward the house and turned to look at Bobby again. "If this is your way of making me feel guilty…"
"This is my way of tryin' to remind you those boys deserve better." Bobby growled and rolled his eyes. He gave John a push out side. "Put that boy in school, John. He's too damn smart to not be. He sucked up everything I brought back for him to read in two days, and Sam…" Bobby shook his head. "Pretty sure in a few years that boy's gonna make us all feel dumb."
John swallowed his ever-present anger as it swelled. He didn't like being told how to raise his boys…and liked it even less that Bobby was right. "Fine." He had to admit, it made him proud to hear how quickly both his sons had taken to reading. He'd honestly not even considered until Bobby had brought it up that Dean didn't know how.
"You best start savin' some cash somewhere," Bobby told him as they reached the porch of the house and could hear Dean yelling inside for his brother to get in the damn tub at the top of his lungs. "I got money on Sam wantin' to go to college someday."
John snorted. "My boys are gonna have more important things to do." He went inside and headed for the back of the house. He wanted sleep and he wanted it now.
"Well, you better start thinkin' about what you're gonna do." Bobby told John's back and rolled his eyes. Dean was already too hero-struck with his father, and Bobby had no doubt he'd end up a Hunter. But Sam…Bobby smiled. Sam had more in him than that; he was sure of it.
"Sammy! Dammit!"
Bobby looked up the stairs with Dean's irritated shout and barked out a laugh as the three year old streaked naked and wet past the top of the stairs, laughing, and Dean followed a moment later, pounding after him with a towel.
"Boys!" John's shout bellowed out from the back of the house and did nothing to quiet the furor upstairs.
Bobby snorted and started upstairs to put an end to it before John decided to come do something about it. "Sam! Come're!" Bobby hung his head in defeat as Sam shot back out into the hall, now wearing one of Bobby's baseball hats, still naked, and ran past him back to the bathroom with Dean in close pursuit.
"Uncle Bobby," Dean panted as he went past and skidded in the hall before turning into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. "Knock it off, runt!"
Bobby scrubbed a hand through his hair and over his face with a laugh. "Gonna be a long day."
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The End.
Next Up: threedays
