Five Times Winchester Life Imitated Disney
Rating: Gen, PG
Word count: 881
Summary: The title says it all really.
Notes: Written for spnschoomptasia and beta-read by Rinne
The first time Dean got drunk they were at Jim's place and Dean found the church wine.
"Dean? You're not supposed to drink that."
Sam sat down across from Dean in the darkened section of the church. His back slid down the brick wall, big brown-green eyes fixed on his brother, as his head tilted to one side.
"For God's sake, Sammy. What?"
"You seeing elephants yet?"
"What?" Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother, then promptly ruined the effect by blinking owl-like and sliding a little along the wall, his whole body loose.
Dean's expression only got more confused.
"Keep goin' Dean. Lemme know when the elephants come."
Sam had that look on his face that said Dean had just become his latest science experiment, but at the moment, Dean couldn't care too much. The room was floating about nicely, the candlelight fuzzier than it should be.
"Whatever, Sammy. Just make yourself useful and keep an eye out for Jim." Dean's words were slurry and Sam smiled at his brother.
"Deal." Sam nodded and continued to stare. "Just tell me if there's elephants."
Sam screamed and kept screaming, hands flying up to protect his face as he curled into a small ball behind the front seat. The werewolf flung itself at the Impala again and the back window gave out, glass flying everywhere. The beast was oblivious, blood flowing freely from its half-human features as it forced its way into the car.
A loud bang, followed by two more, and suddenly everything fell quiet. There was a last gasp and gurgle as the beast returned to a man before his death and then there was just Sam's own harsh breathing.
"Sam! Sammy! You okay? Sam?"
The back door opened and large hands pulled Sam from the car, helped him to stand, as John knelt to stare into his face, hands sweeping for injuries. Finding no injury, the large hands cupped Sam's face and forced frightened eyes to focus.
"Answer me, Sam. Are you hurt?"
Sam shook his head and whimpered, his eyes dark with things that a seven-year-old shouldn't have to see. John pulled his younger son close and held him, ruffling his too-long hair.
"I'm sorry. You should have been safe here, but he doubled back."
"Hey Sam, you're okay." Dean's hand landed on his brother's shoulder. "Hey wanna help?"
Sam looked up at his brother with interest.
"You're big enough now, isn't he Dad? He can help us dig."
John smiled and nodded his agreement. "Sure he can. Come on, Sammy."
There was a small shovel in the back they used when they were camping – the perfect size for a seven-year-old. John dragged the body from the car and out of sight and then found a good place to dig.
Dean handed Sam the shovel, showed him how to carry it slung over one shoulder and began to whistle as he led his brother through the trees. Sam smiled, picking up the song and started to sing. "Heigh-ho heigh-ho, it's off to work we go."
Sam sang, Dean and John whistling the accompaniment, until the job was done.
"Bet you didn't."
"Did too." Dean's nose grew again.
Sam grinned. "Liar."
Sam stormed into the house and threw his book bag to the kitchen table, before looking up and stopping completely stock still to stare around him.
"Oh my god!"
Giggles drew Sam's attention to the small living room where Dean was ensconced on the couch with his latest girl. "Dean? What, I mean… Dean?"
"Cool, huh? Carmel here's into Wicca. She found these cool cleaning spells and now the place will be clean when Dad gets home without all the effort. Genius, huh, Sammy?" Dean leant over to kiss the giggling girl, who Sam assumed was Carmel, and Sam turned away with a grimace, taking in the broom that was sweeping the kitchen floor all by itself.
"But Dean, there's a broom sweeping the kitchen all by itself."
"All right already, sheesh." Dean disentangled himself and stood up, stalking toward the broom. He gripped the broom handle to no avail. "Hey Carmel, make it stop."
The girl turned to face them, leaning over the back of the couch and twisting a lock of long hair around her finger. "Um, I didn't think of that."
Dean glared, picked up the still cleaning broom and snapped it over his knee. "That should do it."
Sam's eyes grew large as he watched the two bits of broom begin to move. "Um, Dean?"
Sam looked at Dean.
Dean looked at Sam. His head was tilted to one side and one ear was turned inside out. He looked adorable, though Sam wasn't about to admit that. Sam smiled and rubbed Dean's head, marvelling at how his brother's bright green eyes still looked the same, even on a puppy face.
"Geez, Dean, you piss off the worst people."
"Ruff!" Dean snapped at Sam's jacket and wagged his tail as Sam's hand snapped back. Sam could have sworn the puppy was grinning.
"Bad, Dean. Stay!"
Sam sighed and opened his laptop to set about looking up information on breaking curses.
At least the Dean-puppy hadn't peed on the carpet yet.