Hey! Wow! I have too many ideas in my head! This kind of kills off a lot of them :)
No Spoilers! Kind of Humor, no real angst! No OC, and I don't think it's AU. It's when they're little to when they're big. Trust me.
Okay, well I wrote this all today and I'll have the rest up in a few hours! I need a nap first :)
Michael and Evan
By: chocolate rules
Disclaimer: I own them, and they say hi...lol...thanks to the WB.. okay Aunt Kate's mine :)
Dean 6, Sam 2
Dean sat on his bed, flipping through one of his storybook, completely and utterly bored. It was raining and he couldn't go outside to play all-day-long. It was torture. Granted, he wasn't really allowed to go outside and play when his father wasn't home. He and Little Sammy were staying with his Aunt Kate. Dean didn't think that Aunt Kate was his real Aunt, but Daddy had told him to hush up and be good and he was trying. He really was.
But he was bored.
Sammy was napping. Dean was too old for naps. He refused to take them. Granted, on many occasions he would fall asleep beside his brother in attempt to still the todd. But Dean was not a baby. He didn't need to be coped up in his room all day.
Daddy had left three days ago, on Thursday. It felt like ages to Dean. He liked it when his Daddy tried to teach him things. How to kick and punch and how to hold a knife. 'Need be, Dean. I need you to be able to protect yourself.' Dean wasn't all that sure exactly what he was protecting himself from. Maybe it was his evil first grade teacher, Ms. Lolas. She was so stupid! But, Daddy said that Dean shouldn't call people stupid.
Dean got up from his bed and headed out into the hallway. He opened the door and listened closely to where his Aunt Kate was. He listened like Daddy had taught him too. Patiently. She was in the kitchen. A smirk came across his boyish face. A smirk that he would learn to manipulate. He glanced back into the crib to the still figure that was Sammy and thank his little brother for being such a heavy sleeper.
He crept out into the hall and made his way towards the room all the way at the end of the hall. The room with the locked closet.
Locked things had a way of attracting Dean.
Daddy had told Dean that when he was older, he'd teach him how to open all the locks. Dean had asked him when older was. The next day he asked again. Dad agreed, today he was older, but not older enough.
But Dean had still managed to get into that little locked room. Entering, he immediately knew he shouldn't of been there. Didn't stop him from entering, though. Didn't even hesitate.
Daddy wasn't supposed to come home today. At least, no one had told Dean that Daddy would be coming home toady. Usually they told him.
He heard Daddy's care, and he stopped entering the locked room. He heard the door, and he backed away from the locked room. He heard his father's greeting to his Aunt Kate and to Ringman, the dog, and he tried to relock the door- tried. He heard them talking and he slowly and carefully walked back to his room. He walked like Daddy had taught him, making no noise.
Sammy was still asleep. Dean ran into his bed, tossing the storybook to the floor. He slipped under the covers and desperately tried to look like he had been sleeping all along.
Aunt Kate and Daddy talked for soo long! Dean was getting bored and he thought about picking up the storybook again. Or returning to the locked room. But Daddy had said that Dean needed to learn patience.
He was falling asleep when he heard it.
There are three levels to every child's name. Teachers stick to one, your friends stick to another, but parents were different. Parents used all three levels. The first level was sweet sounding, not a threat.
The second level was the one teachers used.
And the third level was reserved for parents. Three words, it making the child in question cringe.
Dean Michael Winchester!
At the first calling, Dean ignored it. Daddy didn't seem to pissed. It could wait until he was 'awake'. The second calling had Dean sitting up on his bed, staring at the door. The third, which came after a few more of the second, found Dean groggily walking down the stairs and into the kitchen to see his angered Aunt and pissed father.
"Hi, Daddy." Dean said, there goes that wild smirk again.
"Hello, Dean. Your Aunt here…"
"How was your trip!" Dean said in a true little kid voice.
"Fine. It was fine, Dean. Now, your aunt was telling me about how you…"
"Did you bring me and Sammy back anything?"
"Dean! I'm trying to tell you something. Stop with the twenty questions." Instantly, Dean looked down and nodded.
"Now, your Aunt Kate tells me you've been causing some trouble?"
"No, Daddy." Dean said, looking up and displaying his best innocent face. How the boy had mastered that face so early in his life, was a wonder to John. He decided ti was best to ignore the boy and continue on talking.
"What have you been up to in school, lately?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yep," Dean said nodding, in true little kid fashion. That boy was going to be a heartbreaker.
"You told me to be good Daddy. I was. I was real good. I behave specially real good. All week!"
"Your Aunt Kate says that your teacher called and said you failed another test. Things that she knows you knew, cause you understood it all in class."
"But, I didn't know about the test! And that was before you left, Daddy." Dean had promised to behave after John left. While John was away. John rolled his eyes at his overly smart boy. He hoped he'd have better luck with Sammy when the time came.
"And here, at home, how did you behave?"
"Good! I was good, Daddy!" As long as they don't go upstairs. "I behaved, just like you asked me to." John eyed him, knowing the sheltered lie.
"What about your aunt's lamp?" Dean's eyes went a little wide, but then so did the grin. "Or how about her vase? Or her china, that she told you not to play with?"
"Yes, Dean. It magically found it's way out of the cabinets to shatter on the floor!" Dean opened his mouth to try and defend himself. "Don't even try to pin this on your brother, Dean. He can't reach that far up yet!" Dean looked up hopefully.
"Ringer?" (Dog's nickname) John shock his head. Dean hung his head down again.
"And, how's your brother?" This was something Dean had done right!
"He's taking a nap!" Dean said smiling. He had put him down all by himself. No assistance required. John nodded approvingly. "He'll be up when the little hand's on the 2 and the long one's on the six!" Dean was leaning to tell time. But he wasn't paying attention.
"And when's that?"
"Two six!" John shocked his head amused, this kid was going to go through life golden.
"And what time is it now?"
"Well, go on up to your room and wait until your brother gets up. Then you can go play…"
"No, not outside Dean. And I want to see your homework done, too. Before you even try and start watching TV." Dean rolled his head, at which John reached down and softly swatted before pushing the boy towards the stairs.
Dean made like he was disapproving, but he was glad that they hadn't seen the room. Moments later, that dream was shattered as the third calling rang strong through the house, Dean Michael Winchester! And Dean cringed.
"Nice knowing ya, Sammy." Dean said, patting the toddler on the head as he headed out the door.