Sam was tired of being in the car alone. He wanted Dean and Daddy to come back NOW! Very wee!chester fic
Inspired by some very cool three-year-olds I came across recently :)
Sam is 3 and Dean is 7
Sam was grumpy.
They had been driving for hours, it was dark, it had been dark for a long, long time, and Dean was teasing him.
Sam had a soft brown bear that Pastor Jim had given him. Sam was very attached to Bear, despite his now very battered appearance. Sam couldn't sleep without Bear, and right now he was very tired. He wanted Bear.
But Dean had just this minute seized him out of Sam's tired, sleepy arms and was holding him out of Sam's reach with a grin on his face.
"Dean" Sam said in a warning tone, the same tone Daddy often used when they were doing something wrong, and reached out a chubby arm. Dean snickered and waved the bear even higher out of reach.
"Dean!" Sam said louder, stretching out both arms in Dean's direction. He was belted in however, and his 3-year-old reach didn't even cross the middle of the car.
Dean sat Bear gently on his own lap, gave Sam a wicked wink, then grabbed Bear around the neck and shook him vigorously.
"Dean, don't!" Sam's lower lip began wobbling and he stretched out as far as he could reach. "Daddy, make him stop!"
"Boys" came the warning growl from the front of the car, and Dean immediately stopped brutalising the toy and handed him back to Sam. He seemed to notice Sam's tear-filled eyes, because he gave the bear a small pat on the head and smoothed his matted fur, before placing him gently in Sam's arms.
Contented, Sam closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.
He was awoken suddenly by the squeal of brakes as he was wrenched forward against his seatbelt, which tightened painfully across his chest. He cried out as he felt the car skidding across the road, then suddenly it came to a halt sideways across the highway.
Frozen in place, Sam sat stunned. He didn't know what was happening. Why did Daddy make the car do that?
He looked up and Daddy was looking back at him and Dean, his face creased in worry
"You boys okay?"
Sam nodded and looked across at Dean, who had a scared look on his face, but he nodded too.
"What's happening, Dad?"
John turned to look out the windscreen.
"There's something out there. You boys wait here, and Dean I want you to lock the doors after I leave. Don't get out of the car for any reason, you understand?"
Dean nodded, his eyes wide.
John's gaze seemed to lock with Dean's for a minute, as Sam looked back and forth between them. Then he nodded and opened his door, disappearing into the frosty night air before the door suddenly swung shut with a bang.
Both Dean and Sam jumped at the noise, then Dean reached forward quickly and pushed down the lock on the driver's side door.
Sam felt funny. He didn't like this at all. Where was Daddy going? Why were they stopping? He wanted Daddy to come back.
Dean climbed forward into the driver's seat and pressed his face against the window, staring out into the night.
"Not now Sammy."
Sam was quiet for a long time, at least a minute, and then he tried again.
"Dean, where's Daddy gone?"
"He just went outside for a minute, he'll be back soon. Now stop talking"
Sam scowled and sank down into his seat, clutching Bear. He didn't like being told what to do, especially by Dean.
They sat silently in the car for a long time, Sam getting drowsy but keeping his eyes open. He wouldn't sleep until Daddy came back. The tension in the silent car was making him scared, and Dean hadn't moved from his place at the window.
Sam buried his face in Bear's fur and wished they were at the motel already.
Then suddenly he heard a several loud bangs from outside, and his head shot up.
"Dad!" Dean yelled and before Sam had time to think anything he had unlocked the door and wrenched it open, jumping out. Sam climbed to his knees and looked out as he saw Dean run around to the back of the car and open the trunk.
They were never supposed to go near the trunk, ever.
"Dean, stop! You're not s'posed to do that!" Sam hollered through the rear window.
Dean didn't seem to hear him though, and grabbed the big shotgun. He ran back and slammed the driver's door shut, then vanished into the night just like Daddy had.
Suddenly, Sam was alone.
Sam waited for Dean to come back, but he didn't. Sam waited a long time. It was dark and quiet in the car, and Sam wished Dean would come back. Dean played games with him. Dean always made long waits in the car fun.
Sam wished Dean would come back.
He climbed up onto Daddy's seat like Dean had and peered out the window, but all he could see was darkness. Fog drifted past, illuminated by the headlights, and beyond their scope of light he could see a field with long, waving grasses.
But no Daddy and no Dean.
He tried to pull open the door handle, the way he had seen Dean do it, but the door wouldn't budge. He tried it again and again, but it wouldn't open. Dean had locked it.
Sam sat back in the seat and crossed his arms grumpily. He had had enough. He wanted to go home NOW!
Sam opened his mouth and wailed.
He cried and cried, tears running down his cheeks. It never failed to bring Daddy or, more often, Dean to his side to see what was the matter, but this time no one appeared. Sam's misery became real and he gave great shuddering sobs, clutching Bear to him. He was scared. Daddy and Dean had never left him alone before. He wanted them to come back, to look after him. He wanted Dean to call him Sammy and Daddy to ruffle his hair and pick him up.
Still whimpering pitifully, he tried the door again, frantically now. He would go and find Daddy and Dean and make them take him home.
"Open!" he pulled at the handle "open up!"
It didn't work and he sat back again, studying the door. How did Daddy do it? He saw a long handle with a knob on the end he had seen Daddy use, and leaning his face against the cold glass, he pushed at it.
It was very stiff and hard to turn, and he almost gave up, but then he felt it move. He turned it again, harder this time, and suddenly the window his face was leaning against moved.
He looked up and saw there was a gap at the top now. Reaching up, he poked his hand through and felt the cool night air against his fingertips.
Studying it some more, he picked up Bear and stood on the driver's seat, pushing Bear through the hole, holding on to only one leg. With a soft thump Bear fell against the other side of the glass, his brown furry face level with Sam's own, as they eyed each other. Sam smiled slightly and bounced him lightly up and down, watching Bear dance through the misty window.
"Sam is inside, Bear is outside" he giggled. This was a fun game. He should show Dean…
Sam frowned. Dean wasn't here.
Suddenly he felt the soft fur slip from his fingers and Bear disappeared from view. "Bear!" Sam cried, jumping up and pressing his little hands against the cold glass. He couldn't see Bear at all.
"Bear!" Sam cried again, feeling sobs rising in his throat. He was completely alone now, nothing to comfort him, and he was scared. Scared, scared, scared.
He frantically turned the knob thing again, to make the hole bigger, so he could fit through and get Bear. Slowly the window descended, until it was level with the top of the door and Sam's elbows. He leaned over the sill and looked over.
Far, far away, he could see Bear lying by the front tire. He looked down. It was a long drop.
Climbing up, he swung one chubby leg over. The ground looked far away, and he wondered if this was a good idea. Dean would tell him don't be stupid. He would say, "Stop, Sammy! Don't do that". But Sam wanted Bear.
He let go.
The fall itself wasn't too bad; it was the hard knock at the end that hurt. He landed on his feet and his wobbly legs buckled, sending him tumbling over onto his back. He yelped as the sharp jolt knocked the breath out of his lungs.
"Owww" he gasped out, coughing and rolling over onto his front. His eyes fell on Bear and he grinned, then coughed and wheezed again as he climbed shakily to his feet. He took one step towards Bear then stopped. Because that's when he heard the scream.
Sam turned around, staring out into the long grasses.
He faintly heard another shout, far down the road.
Sam stood still for a moment, uncertain. He knew he was supposed to stay in the car.
He heard another shout and began walking towards it was fast as his short legs would go.
It was very cold, and his teeth began to chatter. He clutched his arms around him and walked faster. Soon he left the bright beam of the Impala's headlights and his stride faltered.
It was very dark. So dark, in fact that he couldn't see where he was going. The only light was by the full moon and stars. He didn't want to go further in the night. There could be monsters.
But he could hear more shouting now, closer, and he could tell it was Daddy. He sounded angry.
Sam stumbled forwards, his feet feeling numb, but relief filling him at the familiar voice. It would be okay now. Daddy would take them home.
Suddenly there was something beneath his foot and he tripped, falling heavily forwards. Sharp pain flared in his knees and palms, and he whimpered. He could feel warm liquid trickling down his shin as he rose unsteadily to his feet. He looked down to see what he had tripped on.
Dimly in the moonlight, he could make out the big shotgun that Dean had taken from the trunk. Daddy's shotgun.
He bent to pick it up. Dean would want it back, and Daddy would be angry if it was lost. He would give it back to Dean
It stood almost as tall as Sam and it was very heavy. He could barely lift it, and took only two steps before he dropped it.
Frustrated Sam heaved it up, carried it forwards a short distance, then again it slipped from his grasp. He growled in frustration. His knees were sore, his hands were hurting, and he was hot and bothered. He almost left it on the ground.
"Dean!" he heard Daddy scream, and he had never heard him sound that way before. He felt frightened again, and gripped the shotgun by the barrel, dragging it along the road beside him as he walked, faster.
There was a slight rise in the highway and Sam couldn't see beyond it. He plodded up the hill, weary and afraid, hauling the gun.
Sam wanted to be back in the car with Daddy and Dean. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.
Reaching the crest of the hill, Sam looked down and saw Daddy and Dean. A sob rose in his throat, and he began to cry.
Daddy was waving a large stick, and the end was on fire. He was running backwards and forwards desperately, shaking it at a monster. Sam stared through his tears, his sobs becoming more terrified.
A monster. A real, live monster.
It was hairy and tall, and looked like a dog except that it stood on its hind legs. It was growling and snarling at Daddy, snapping at him as he shook his stick at it, and in one hairy paw it held Dean around the throat, pressed against its hairy body, high in the air as his legs kicked uselessly. He could hear Dean crying and gasping and Daddy's frantic shouts.
"Put my son down right now or I swear to God… " The thing just growled more at him and turned, swinging Dean around more so that he started making choking noises. Daddy was trying to get closer, and Sam could see that in his other hand he held his handgun. Sammy had seen it before, sometimes when Daddy cleaned it in their motel room at night. He had never seen Daddy hold it like he was now.
The shotgun was heavy in Sam's hands and he lifted it off the ground. He had seen Dean play with it once before, when he thought Daddy wasn't looking. He had held the big end, and pointed the small end at invisible monsters in the room saying "boom, boom boom!" The shotgun killed monsters, that was what Dean had told Sam.
He tried to pick it up the way Dean had, but it was heavy. He reached out his hand as far it would go and held the barrel halfway down, the four fingers of his other hand curled around the trigger. You pulled the trigger and that made the monsters die, that was what Dean had said.
Arms quivering with the strain, he pointed the narrow end at the monster. It turned, and he could see its glinting teeth. It made him scared, and he closed his eyes.
And squeezed the trigger in his fist.
There was a loud bang and something hit him in the face, sending him reeling back. His nose hurt, and he felt something warm and sticky trickle from it as his eyes blurred with tears. Stunned, he dropped the gun. Then an angry roar sounded and falling to his knees, he grabbed it again. He needed the gun. It made him safe.
There were three more loud bangs that came from near where Daddy and Dean had been standing, and by the time Sam's eyes cleared, the monster had fallen to the ground, completely still.
Sam looked up and saw Daddy. He was staring at Sam with a funny look on his face. It looked like he was going to cry, but that couldn't be right. Daddy never cried.
"Sammy." His voice was cold. "Put the gun down."
Sammy shook his head and shrank back slightly. No. No.
"Sammy!" Sam looked back at him again. Daddy was standing very still, looking at the gun. Sam still had his fingers on the trigger, thought he wasn't thinking about that. He was looking at Dean. Dean was standing behind Daddy, clutching at the bottom of his coat. He had tear tracks down his face and his throat looked bruised. He was looking at Sam like he was scared of him.
"Sammy." Daddy's voice was gentle this time, and when Sam looked up, his face was smiling and kind. "Sammy, darling, put the gun down. It's alright now, you can put it down and come here to Dad, okay?"
Then, because Daddy so rarely called him that and because Sam was too tired to hold the gun anymore, he dropped it and ran forwards, great sobs ripping themselves from his throat as he stumbled into his father's arms. Daddy gathered him up and Sammy buried his bleeding face into the familiar smell of his coat. He felt rather than saw Daddy reach out his other arm and encircle Dean, holding the two boys tight, and Sam felt we drops falling into his hair. He wondered, but not too much. He was safe now.
Then Daddy rose to his feet and picked Sam up, and Sam rested his heavy head on Daddy's shoulder. Daddy took Dean by the hand and they walked back to the car. Sam was tired now, so tired, and he dozed. Occasionally he woke. A couple of times he was lying on the back seat, his head on Dean's knee. The next time he woke up Daddy was carrying him to the motel room, and Sam was glad they were home.
Then Daddy started doing painful things and Sam woke up for real. He was a brave boy though, and didn't cry when Daddy put stinging stuff on his grazed knees and his hands. Daddy put big bandaids on his knees. He cleaned the blood off Sam's face too, and said "Not broken!" cheerfully, although Sam wasn't quite sure what he meant. Daddy put another bandaid on Sam's nose where the gun had cut it, and then ruffled his hair.
Dean looked at his bandaids admiringly. "You look cool, Sammy."
Sam smiled, and then Dean handed him something soft and brown and fluffy.
"I found him hiding under the car"
Sam wasn't sure he wanted Bear. The monster had also been brown and furry. Dean noticed his reluctance and his face took on a funny crooked look.
Sam looked over at Daddy, who was cleaning his handgun like he often did at night. He couldn't see the big gun anywhere.
"Where's the big gun Dean?"
Dean turned away.
"He left it in the field" his said, his voice muffled.
Sammy felt uncomfortable and confused. There were things going on around him that he didn't understand. He looked back at Bear. His fur was soft and his eyes were smiling. Bear didn't look like a monster.
Goo'night, Dean" Sam said, climbing into bed and hugging Bear. Bear sure felt good when you had a few owies.
He saw Dean smile again, before his eyes drifted shut into contented sleep.