The Winchesters ended up in small rented house in a suburb in Nebraska for most of July. John stayed around for a little while, waiting for help on a lead on something he wouldn't share with the boys from Bobby. Sam loved it there. In their neighborhood there were a bunch of kids around his age that accepted him right into their group of friends. He got to play street hockey and soccer, the occasional kickball or baseball game. He almost felt normal for the first time in a long time. Sam wandered home when the street lights turned on, like he always did, and flopped exhaustedly onto the sofa next to his dad who was watch a Royals game on television.
"Where's Dean?" Sam asked.
"Thought he was with you," John shrugged.
"No," Sam sighed. "He said he was too old to be doing kid things anymore. He thinks that since he's going to be in high school next year that he's too cool to hang out with me."
"If I know anything about your brother," John replied placing an arm over Sam's shoulder. "It's that he knows he's not 'too cool' to hang out with you. He's probably just showing off to some older boys."
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "Every time he makes one friend he just leaves me behind."
"But you got friends here right?" John asked. "I'm sure you don't get that sweaty everyday hanging out by yourself."
"No, I got some friends here," Sam said. "We were playing kickball today. I asked Dean if he wanted to play with us and he told me he was too big for baby games and went off toward the lake with the older kids."
"He's fifteen," John shrugged. "Someday you'll think Dean's a loser and not want to hang out with him either."
Sam laughed. "I think he's a loser now, but I still want to hang out with him."
John chuckled and turned back to the game. The two sat in silence for the next half inning, until it cut back to commercial.
"I think it's time to get Dean back for making me think you guys left without me," Sam announced. "But I don't have any ideas."
"You could take the high road and stop the pranking nonsense before someone gets hurt," John suggested.
"I can't let Dean win," Sam replied. "He'll never shut up about it."
"You gotta point there," John shrugged.
"Do you have any ideas?" Sam asked looking up at his dad.
"I'm not getting involved," John replied. "That's all the two of you. But remember, whatever you do, he's going to do it back bigger and more obnoxious. So be careful."
"What if I… what if I…" Sam said thinking out loud. "What if I put, like, Orajel on his toothbrush so he mouth went numb?"
John let out a loud laugh. "That's a good one kiddo, sounds like the stuff we used to do in the service."
"So you think it's a good?" Sam said wided eyed. "I can do it?"
"I'll pick you up some Orajel next time I head into town," John smiled. "I think when Dean stops freaking out, he'll think it's funny."
"Good," Sam nodded. "I want him to be really freaked out. I was so scared in the woods. I mean, it was only, like, two minutes, but I really thought you guys left without me."
"There's a line with pranking," John said seriously. "There needs to be anyway, between funny and being a dick. Your brother walks that line very closely. If you were a little older, that would have been better. I think he forgets that you're just a kid sometimes. I guess that's sorta easy with the life, you know. You can do a lot more than a regular eleven year old, and you're more mature - way more mature that your brother was- but you're still eleven."
"Okay," Sam shrugged. "I'm not going to do anything too mean."
"I also want you to remember that Dean's going to get you back," John said. "He just is. And he'll do something you're not expecting and Dean's goal will be to make you cry."
"But if he does, you'll punish him right?" Sam asked.
"Of course," John smiled pulling Sam close. "Just don't fake it."
"I'm not that good of an actor," Sam replied.
John pulled his arm back over Sam's shoulder and pressed them against his knees as he stood up. "I'm gonna go grab some Chinese, you want the regular?"
Sam nodded. "That'll be good."
"If Dean comes home before I get back, let him know?"
"Yeah no problem," Sam replied.
"I'll stop by CVS on the way," John smirked ruffling Sam's hair as he started to walk away.
"Thanks Dad," Sam called after him, as he took the tv remote and started to flip through the channels.
It was raining two days later, which meant no sports with the neighborhood kids for Sammy. The boys were cooped up inside for a while, so Dean decided it would be best to torture and wrestle his brother all day.
"Stop, Dean, you're hurting me!" Sam whined as Dean had him pinned down to the floor.
"We gotta toughen you up somehow," Dean replied not letting up. "You're a weakling."
"You're a jerk," Sam spat. "Let me up."
"Fight your way up," Dean said seriously. "I know you can."
"You're twice my size, Dean, get off!"
"Push me off," Dean replied. "If something gets you out there you're not going to be able to whine at it until it goes away. It'll eat you."
"Nothing's going to eat me!" Sam said squirming as much as he could. "I'm not going to be a stupid hunter."
"Family business, kiddo," Dean said smirking down at him. "You don't gotta choice. Now fight."
Sam squirmed until he got one of his legs free, then started to kick his brother. He wiggled a hand free and shoved it into Dean's face and pushed until Dean was finally off of him.
"Leave me alone!" Sam said standing up. "Just let me read my book."
"You're such a nerd," Dean said shaking his head. "It's lame, Sammy."
"My name is Sam," he spat back. "And I just want you to stop picking on me all the time."
"Sorry, Princess," Dean said rolling his eyes. "You've spent all this week trying to get me to hang out with you, then when I do you bitch about it."
"I don't want you to tackle me, Dean," Sam explained. "I want to, like, I don't know, play checkers or cards or something. Normal people things."
"Normal people are boring," Dean spat back.
"I like boring," Sam huffed. "Just stop being mean to me for two minutes."
"I'm not being mean to you," Dean sighed. "Jesus Christ."
"Whatever," Sam huffed. He headed toward the bathroom, the only room where he could get some privacy, and slammed the door. He was going to save his Orajel prank until he was sure that Dean thought he'd won the war, but after his day of rolling around on the floor until he wanted to cry, he felt that it was time.
Dean was becoming obnoxiously into his looks. Their dad tried to explain it to Sam, but gave up after a few aborted sentences and said he'd understand when he was older. Dean tried to play it off like he wasn't, that he didn't care what he looked like, but the hair gel he kept in his duffle bag and his insistence on having his own tube of toothpaste because their dad preferred the gel types and that one was apparently not ideal for treating the acne that Dean definitely didn't have, said otherwise.
Sam took the Orajel his dad had bought from the first aid kit and shoved the tip into Dean's special toothpaste. He hoped that it wasn't too obvious since the gel was kind of clear, and Dean's toothpaste was very white and paste like, but he figured Dean didn't inspect his toothpaste while he before brushing his teeth.
"Take this you stupid jerkface," Sam smiled proud of himself as he twisted the cap back onto Dean's toothpaste and put it back where it was. He flushed the toilet so Dean wouldn't suspect anything and made his way back into the main room.
Dean was waiting just outside the door to pounce on him bringing him back down to the ground.
"I hate you," Sam huffed.
"You love me," Dean smirked letting Sam back up. "You wanna play poker? We got pretzels and pistachios."
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "As long as you don't cheat."
"I'm just better than you," Dean smiled. "I'm giving you a school of hard knocks education."
"You're an idiot," Sam sighed falling into line behind his brother as they walked to the kitchen. He smiled to himself knowing that in just a few hours he'd have his revenge.
John stumbled into the apartment after Dean had scraped together some dinner for himself and his brother. Staying on one place for too long had the exact opposite effect on John than it did on Sammy. He got restless, and when he had no place to go, he tended to drink more than he usually did. But after eleven years of their father's erratic behavior the boys had, sadly, gotten used to it. At least this time this time he wasn't too intoxicated, he could still walk and form coherent sentences, he just smelled like stale cigarette smoke and beer. Dean shot Sam a look of warning, trying to tell him not to start anything, not tonight. It was a fight they could have some other night.
"I think I'm just going to go to bed," Sam sighed as he rolled his eyes.
"What did you boys have for dinner?" John said standing between Sam and the bedroom door.
"Dean put together a meatloaf with the leftover hamburger," Sam answered. "It was actually really good. There's some left in the fridge if you're hungry."
"Toss a place in the microwave and bring it over," John slurred as he made his way to the sofa. "Sounds good."
"Yes, sir," Sam nodded.
"Why don't we hang out, watch a movie?" John asked. "It's not like you got homework or nothing."
Sam rolled his eyes, starting at Dean.
"Just hang out Sammy," Dean whispered "It'll be fine."
"Yeah," Sam sighed, pulling the plate out of the microwave. "Whatever."
Sam sat down in the beat up chair next to the sofa, after passing the plate off to his dad, and pulled his knees up to his chest.
"You got anything you wanna see, Sammy?" John asked. "I know the two of you have some kind of Blockbuster membership thing."
"Umm…" Sam mumbled looking over at his brother. "I don't really think you'd like the movie that I picked out. It's kinda a kid movie."
"Have you watched it yet?" John asked.
"No," Sam answered.
"Is it a cartoon?" John asked.
"No," Sam said shaking his head. "It's about this hockey team in Texas. I've wanted to see if for a while."
"Sounds nice, go get it," John instructed.
Sam looked to Dean, who nodded as he sat down next to his dad on the couch. Sam climbed out of the chair and walked into his room. He retrieved the VHS from his duffel bag and popped it open as he walked back into the living room. Dean had already set up the TV, so all Sam had to do was drop it into the VCR and press play.
"From what I understand," Sam said talking faster than he usually did as he sat back down in the chair. "It's a pretty good movie. The other kids I hang out with were talking about it. I guess there's a sequel that's out now or something. I wanted to see what it was about. That's why I rented it."
"It's cool, Sam," Dean chuckled. "Breathe out your nose and watch the movie."
The movie was actually really cool, Sam loved it. Dean tried his best to look like he didn't like it, but Sam could tell he did.
"Not bad," John nodded when it was over. "Nothing wrong with an underdog movie. But I do think it's time to turn it in for the night."
"Yeah," Dean yawned stretching. He stood up and walked toward the bathroom.
As the bathroom door closed, Sam remembered what he'd done earlier. His eyes shot to John and back to the bathroom door. After a very tense couple of minutes, Dean finally reacted to his mouth numbing toothpaste.
"Daaa!" came a scream from the bathroom the door swung open and Dean stood there in his underwear, small dots of drying toothpaste of his face, foam around his mouth. "Da! Somfink's wron."
Sam started to giggle. He couldn't help it, he felt slightly guilty since he wasn't mad at Dean anymore, but seeing Dean with toothpaste dripping out of his mouth was hilarious.
"Wha's wron wit me?" Dean asked eyes wide.
"Payback jerkface," Sam giggled.
John looked between his boys, slowly realizing what what happening.
"Wha did you do?' Dean mumbled trying to wipe the toothpaste from his face but he kept drooling. "Poison?"
"Don't be melodramatic, Dean," John sighed. "It'll wear off in about twenty minutes. It's Orajel. It numbs your mouth"
"You knew bout this!?" Dean did his best to demand but between the drooling and the mumbling, it was hard to take him seriously.
"I got you back for being a jerk all day," Sam answered. "And for making me think you left me in the woods."
"By tryin ta kill me?" Dean asked wiping drool from his face. "Tis no funny Sam."
"It's actually pretty funny," John argued. "You with those toothpaste dots on your face, drooling everywhere."
Dean turned a deep shade of red and turned back into the bathroom slamming the door hard behind him.
"Slam another door and I'll break your fingers," John called after him. "If you can't take a joke, don't pull 'em on your brother." John looked over at Sam and smirked.
"I kinda feel bad about doing it," Sam whispered. "I was really mad before you got home, and now I'm not as mad and I was trying to save it."
"Well," John said pushing himself up. "He wasn't expecting it. And if you want to sleep in my room so you don't get smoothed in your sleep, I'll take the couch."
"He's gonna do something horrible to me," Sam sighed.
"Probably," John said stretching. "You knew that walking in."
Sam squirmed in his chair a little, John walked over and ruffled Sam's hair.
"That was really funny, kiddo," John insured him. "Really, Sam. I don't think that could have worked out better. If Dean did that to you, I'd ground him for about a month."
Sam looked up at his dad and smiled. "Really?"
"Yeah," John smirked. "Do want to sleep in my room? We don't need Dean trying to kill you in your sleep."
"No," Sam said shaking his head. "He won't smother me with a pillow right away. He'll wait a couple days first."
"Alright," John nodded ruffling Sam's hair again. "I'll see you in the morning Sammy."
John walked across the living room to his bedroom, when the door closed the door to the bathroom reopened. Dean stood in the doorway, nostrils flared, face clean, eyes shooting daggers at his brother.
"You're just mad because you didn't think of it first," Sam rolled his eyes.
"I ca't even talk righ," Dean mumbled.
"Like Dad said it'll wear off," Sam shrugged as he stood up. "And it'll keep you quiet for a little bit."
"I'm gonna ge you so goo," Dean said shaking his head. "Wo't even know wha hit ya."
"I'm sure," Sam said turning and walking away. "I'm going to bed. Enjoy your numb mouth."
"You're a bitch," Dean growled the best he could.
"But I won this round, jerk."