Disclaimer: Neither of the Supernatural characters belong to me, they belong to Erik Kripke and the CW. Just having a little fun.
Giant Bunnies and Chocolate Humans
By: Vanessa Sgroi
Five-year-old Sam Winchester pushed back the blankets and slipped out of his twin bed in the room he shared with his sibling, shivering a little when his feet hit the cold floor. He paused when wracked by a fit of coughing before reaching under his bed to pull out a small package haphazardly wrapped in blue tissue paper. With the package tightly gripped in both hands, he walked out of the tiny bedroom and went in search of his big brother, Dean.
Finding him in the kitchen putting together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Sam walked over and stood at his side.
"Deanie?" His voice was gravelly from his lingering sore throat and muffled thanks to his stuffed up nose.
Nine-year-old Dean looked up as he was pouring himself a glass of milk. "Hey, squirt, what are you doing out of bed? You're still sick." The older boy placed the milk back on the table and screwed the lid back on.
"I know. B-But I got you a present for Easter," Sam snuffled trying to breathe through his clogged nose, "Since the Easter Bunny never can find us and stuff." He shoved the gift into his brother's hands just before he let loose with a tremendous sneeze. Snot from both nostrils cascaded down his upper lip.
"Eeewww, Sammy, that's just nasty. Hold on a sec." Dean jogged out of the kitchen, returning seconds later with wadded up toilet paper in his hand. He first cleaned up the mess and then held a fresh piece of tissue under his little brother's nose.
Sammy did as his sibling asked, blowing hard into the tissue.
"Uh huh. Thanks, Dean." Reaching out, he poked a finger at the package resting on the table. "Open it!"
Not needing any further encouragement, Dean grabbed the present and tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a box with a giant chocolate bunny inside."
"Wow, that's a big chocolate rabbit. Sammy, how'd you manage to get this for me?"
The youngest Winchester shrugged. "I saved up my milk money. And Mrs. Dodd gave me three whole dollars one day when I helped her walk Toodles. And another dollar the next day when I picked up some groceries she dropped when the bag ripped."
Dean was touched that his brother would skip having milk with the rest of his kindergarten class when they had snack just so he could save up money to buy him a present. He wasn't surprised though that he'd helped Mrs. Dodd across the street. Sammy was always looking for ways to be helpful.
"Aren't you goin' to open it?"
"Yeah. But before I do, I have something for you too." Again the older boy left the kitchen. This time when he returned, he carried a small candy-filled plastic bag. He handed it to Sam. "Here, squirt. I know you like these."
Sammy's eyes grew big. "Malted milk eggs? Really? A whole bag for me?"
"Can I have one?"
"I should probably make you eat lunch first, but go ahead."
The little boy opened the package and pulled out a blue, speckled egg, popping it into his mouth with enthusiasm. After a few seconds, he stopped chewing and stuck his bottom lip out. His eyes filled with tears.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked, alarmed.
"They don' taste good. Not like 'fore. T-They don' taste like anythin'."
"Awww, Sammy, that's just 'cause your sick and your nose is full of snot. Save 'em for when you get better."
"They'll taste bettah? You sure?" mumbled Sam around the mouthful of candy.
The five-year-old nodded. " 'kay, open your bunny."
Dean grinned, his eyes alight with pleasure. He opened the box and pulled out the candy.
"Should I eat a piece? Maybe I'll start with the ears."
Sam looked at him with wide eyes. "Oh, no, you CAN'T eat the ears. Then he won't be able to hear."
Won't be able to hear. "Huh? Well, then how about the feet. I'll start there."
"NO! If you eat his feet, he won't be able to hop." Sammy looked horrified.
"Okay, I'll eat the eyes."
"Then he can't see!" Sammy wailed.
Dean looked at his brother, his own face a study of pure puzzlement. Sam's expression, though, was deeply earnest. He studied the rabbit a little closer and made his next suggestion.
"Okay, how about the bowtie. Can I eat the candy bowtie?" He looked at Sam who thought about it a second before nodding his head.
The older boy carefully pulled the candy bowtie off and popped it in his mouth. He eased the rest of the chocolate bunny back in its box.
"You should go back to bed now, Sammy. You're sick."
"I don't wanna go back to bed," his voice was low and whiny.
Dean sighed. He couldn't blame the kid. Being in a house with separate rooms, however small, was a lot different than being in a single motel room. "All right. Go turn on the TV, and I'll bring you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and glass of milk, okay?"
The rest of the day passed quietly with the two brothers alternately curled up on the couch watching cartoons, including a few Easter-related ones, or Dean reading his little brother stories from Sammy's small collection of used children's books. After a quick dinner of soup and crackers, Dean tucked Sam back into bed after giving him another dose of cold medicine.
"G'night, Sammy. I'm gonna be right out in the living room if you need me. I'll come to bed in a little while."
" 'night, Deanie." Sam closed his heavy-lidded eyes and settled back against the pillow with a sigh. A few minutes later he drifted into a sound sleep.
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The banging on the door roused the dark-haired little boy and he rose from his bed to answer its summons. Forgetting all of his dad's and Dean's warnings, he threw the door wide, stumbling back a few steps when he saw the seven foot tall white rabbit standing on the other side.
"Hey, Sammy. Happy Easter!" The white rabbit muttered, his voice deep and menacing.
"Wha? W-W-Who are you?"
"Whaddya mean, who am I? You know who I am. I'm Peter Rabbit."
"Nuh uh. You . . . can't be Peter Rabbit. Bunnies are . . . are little. And cute. And you can pet them."
The rabbit started chuckling. "Well, not this bunny, boy! Look what I got for Easter today."
The rabbit held up a large piece of chocolate in the shape of a human. Strangely enough, the molded chocolate resembled Sammy.
"Hey, that looks like me."
"So where should I start? Maybe I should eat the ears. Wanna piece?"
"N-n-no. Hey, you can't eat the ears! He won't be able to hear."
"Then I'll start at the bottom and eat the feet first."
"No! You can't do that either. Then he can't walk."
"Now look, this is my chocolate human, and I'll eat it anyway I want to. Got it?" As Peter said this he leaned forward, closer to Sammy's face and his red eyes began to glow menacingly. Opening his mouth, he bit off the head of the chocolate human and devoured it before the little boy's eyes. The rabbit's eyes glowed even brighter. "Hmm. Maybe you're next." The five-year-old slowly backed away, stopping only when his back met with a wall. The giant rabbit walked through the door and lunged. Sammy started to scream.
(SN) (SN) (SN)
"Sam! Sammy, it's okay. I've got you!"
Sam came awake with a start and struggled mightily against the arms that held him. He panicked, thinking the rabbit still held him in its tight furry grip.
"Easy, little dude. I've got you."
Sam's panic subsided at the sound of the familiar voice. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around his brother.
"Wow—that musta been some nightmare."
Sammy nodded his head vigorously, rubbing his tear-streaked face against Dean's t-shirt covered chest.
"Think you can go back to sleep?"
The little boy shook his head no.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Again he shook his head no.
Dean made a move to get up and his little brother tightened his arms, refusing to let him go.
"I'm just gonna go get some toilet paper. You've got snot all over your face again. Eww, and probably on my shirt too."
Minutes later, Dean had him cleaned up once more. He tossed the used tissue in the little wastebasket and switched off the light. Back at the bed, he nudged Sammy to move over. Dean climbed into the bed and pulled his little brother close.
Sam sniffled for a few seconds. "Yeah."
"Good, then let's both go back to sleep. You screaming like that scared the heck out of me, you know."
The two boys settled in beneath the blankets, got comfortable, and closed their eyes. Just as he started to drift off, Dean heard his brother whisper, "Deanie?"
"I . . . I know I gave him to you, but . . . will you throw away your chocolate bunny? Please."
"Uhh, sure. I guess."
"Yes, Sammy, I promise."
As his little brother finally slipped into slumber, Dean laid there quietly listening to the cold-heavy thickness of his breathing.
I am never—never—going to understand what goes on in that freaky brain of his.