This is my first ever and probably last Weechester story. It is based on something that happened to my kids two years ago.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and the boys don't belong to me; no profits are being made off this story.
Maxandkiz, this story is dedicated to you, because you are the most awesome Weechester writer I know. Hope you like it, even though it doesn't come close to your genius. Thanks for making me laugh!
For the first time in forever eleven year old Dean Winchester actually liked school. Not that he would admit it, because even at this age the older Winchester boy was way too cool for school. The reason for this being an exception appeared strange, even to him, because he now attended a catholic school. Which meant smaller classes and more attention, something he usually hated, but it also meant a teacher, who showed genuine interest in him and who knew how to make learning fun.
Three weeks ago the small family left their last home, a two room apartment in the worst part of Chicago and moved in with one of John's friends, Pastor Jim Murphy. The catholic priest called on the oldest Winchester to help him with planning out a large hunt. Always enjoying the company of the small family, and if he was honest especially the life the boys brought to the old rectory, he wouldn't hear of John finding a separate place for them to live. He also made arrangements for the boys to enroll at the parochial school in town, which jointly belonged to his and two neighboring catholic parishes.
So this was where Dean found out that learning could actually be enjoyable. The fact his teacher was a petite redhead with large green eyes and the prettiest smile the eleven year old had ever seen didn't hinder his effort either, because even at this age he already learned to appreciate the assets of the fairer sex.
His younger brother Sam on the other hand, at age seven more the size of a five year old, appreciated his new school for the fact that bullying was not tolerated and for the first time since entering second grade he was treated as an equal rather than the runt and outsider. This was a fact that made not just him happy but maybe even more his big brother. Dean had taken on the responsibility to protect his baby brother ever since their father thrust six month old Sammy into his arms and told him to run without looking back the night their mom was killed in a fire. Since then the older boy learned that a mystical power was behind the fire and while his dad went off to guard his little family and the world from the supernatural, Dean saw it as his job to keep his younger sibling save.
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Sam Winchester enjoyed school just for the reason that he got to learn new things every day. In this school no one minded, when he asked lots of questions, because most of the other kids were eager to learn also. For him it was important to know more, because Dean was smart and he wanted to be just like him. To him his big brother was the smartest and coolest guy there was, with the exception of maybe their dad but he was old, so it really didn't count.
Today was different though, simply for the fact it was Thursday and that meant he got to spend time with the other kids and first of all Dean at the after school program in the gym. Usually their dad or Pastor Jim picked both of them up, except on Thursdays they had some adult things to do and the priests temporary housekeeper didn't like kids. She insisted they would not be in the house without the supervision of another adult while she was working and today was her day to work until five.
Sammy loved the after school program, especially Sister Maria Evangelina, a retired nun, who at age seventy-six still couldn't give up teaching young children. He liked her, because she knew cool stories. Last week she told him about her time in India. She told him she spent one year in Calcutta with someone called Mother Teresa, teaching children who lived on the street or in sheds without electricity and sometimes had nothing to eat for days. Sam had asked her why this Mother Teresa didn't take better care of her children. She had smiled and explained that she wasn't their real mother but just another nun who made it her mission to help the poor and sick people in Calcutta. The compassionate boy had thought this was a real cool thing to do.
So he couldn't wait to go back and hear some more about this Mother, who cared for people so much, she went all the way to India to live with them.
Hearing the bell ring, he threw his books in his bag and ran out of the classroom, almost falling over his chair in the process. Making his way down to the gym, he waited impatiently for the other kids to arrive. Sister Maria Evangelina never opened the door until all kids were there then she would stand there and greet everyone and give them a bottle of water and a cookie of their choice.
When the door finally opened he looked disappointed at the middle aged woman standing before him. This was someone he'd never seen before.
Before he could ask, she said, "Kids, Sister is not feeling well. I'm Mrs. Smithfield and I'm taking her place today."
She handed each child the usual bottle of water and cookie, then pointed at the other wall,
"There are some balls and jump ropes over there to play with. I also set up a corner for those in kindergarten, first and second grade. I'm going to read a book for you. It's called 'Amelia Bedelia' and was written by a lady called Peggy Parish"
The kids spread out, Sammy reluctantly following the Mrs. Smithfield over to the corner. After everyone was sitting down she started to read. The book wasn't really keeping his interest though. It sounded like a girl book and girl books were boring. Longingly he glanced over to the older kids playing soccer, Dean being right in the middle of them. It looked like so much more fun.
Getting up, he slowly made his way over to them, kicking the ball when it rolled his way.
"Sammy, shouldn't you be over there, listening to a story?" Dean asked, clearly annoyed by his little brother's present.
"That's only for babies!" The younger boy complained, "I rather play with you."
"Well, you can't, this is only for the big kids." His brother told him; not caring about the hurt expression on the younger's face.
Sam couldn't belief it; Dean never treated him this way before. Walking over to the wall, he leant against it, thinking about his brother's behavior. He always played with him. Maybe it was the other kids. That had to be it. The others didn't want him and Dean was just protecting him. Well, he was going to show Dean that he didn't have to worry about him. He could take care of himself.
The next time the ball rolled his way, he kicked it again, this time with more force, getting it all the way over to the assigned goal area and beyond.
One of the kids, a boy about Dean's size came up and high fived him, "Hey, that was awesome for a little shrimp. Wanna join us?"
Sam nodded enthusiastically, not seeing the warning look his older brother gave him.
After playing for ten minutes the older Winchester stopped the game, "I'm tired of this, let's go and play cards!" He pulled a deck of cards out of his jeans and trotted over to the tables in the corner, "Not you squirt; you are not old enough to play with us." He pointed at his little brother.
For a few minutes Sammy stood in the middle of the gym, unsure what to do next. Finally coming to a decision, he happily skipped over to his brother.
Tapping him on the shoulder, he said, "Hey Dean, I know how to play this, I watched you, daddy and Bobby many times."
His large puppy dog eyes looked expectantly at the other boy. Without giving him a glance, his brother shrugged, "Not now, we are in the middle of a game, maybe the next one."
"Okay." The seven year old was excited about the prospect to join the game.
Moving back a little bit to not disturb the group; he watched them play for a while. When the game came to an end, he stepped back to the table.
"Can I play now?"
"No!" his brother clearly sounded annoyed.
"But you said…" The little guy grumbled.
"Never mind what I said, you are not playing."
"I said no!"
"I really can do it."
Getting up from the chair, Dean grabbed his brother's hand and dragged him to the side.
"Listen, I don't want you here. Don't you get it? Go listen to the story with your friends."
But Dean, that's for babies."
Well, you are a baby, so you fit right in." The older boy turned and walked back to rejoin his friends.
Sam was fighting back tears, he couldn't belief Dean just called him a baby. Why was he so mean to him? All he wanted was to be with his big brother. Dean couldn't do this to him. It was just not fair. He would show him that he wasn't a baby.
Storming back to the table before the older boy was able to sit back down; he picked up the chair and pushed the back of it into the taller boy's abdomen. What happened next went down like in slow motion.
Being pushed back a step by the force of his little brother's attack; Dean tore the chair out of the younger kid's hands and pushed back. What he didn't count on was that instead of standing there, Sam had already turned and ducking slightly was starting to run away. So instead of being hit in the stomach or even his back, the chair came down on the back of his head.
Seeing his brother fall to the floor and lying there motionless Dean froze; the chair still in his hands. Only the screaming from the other kids made him come out of his trance. His hands started to shake and he dropped the chair on the ground. What had he done? He hurt his baby brother, the one he was supposed to protect from getting hurt.
Sliding on the floor, he got to his brother just when the younger kid started to sit up.
"Sammy, you okay?" He tried to check him out, but got rewarded by having his hands slapped.
"Leave me alone."
Sam stood up. He was feeling a little unsteady on his feet, but was determined he wasn't going to have Dean help him after what he just did to him. Looking around, he saw the expressions on the other kid's faces, wondering why they looked at him this way.
"You are bleeding." One of the older girls pointed at his head.
That was the first time he noticed the warmth running down the back of his head and neck and onto his t-shirt. This was also when he suddenly became aware of the throbbing pain. Unable to hold back the tears any longer, he started to cry.
"Sammy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Wanting to comfort his brother with all his heart, yet knowing he would be rejected just like the last time, Dean did the only thing he could, "I call dad, right now."
Flying out of the gym, the older Winchester ran into the school office, dialing the number of the parsonage before the school secretary even knew what was happening. He got lucky because his father picked up after the second ring.
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John Winchester and Pastor Murphy had initially planned to drive out to the general area of their upcoming hunt but later changed their mind. The territory was so large, it seemed more likely for them to get lost than to accomplish anything productive. So instead they surveyed maps of the area in the priest's study. It turned out it was going to be more difficult than they had initially thought. They had been at their research all afternoon and expected to not be done until later tonight.
Initially John felt guilty for not picking the boys up while actually being home, but this way they could stay in the office and wouldn't have to worry about supervising the kids. Jim's housekeeper was sure to find fault in them otherwise.
Jim had gone to the kitchen to make more coffee, when the phone rang. Getting up from his work, he went over to the desk and picked the receiver up. The caller on the other end was breathing heavy and it took a moment before he heard the words, "Dad…"
"Dean? What's wrong?" Instant dread overcame the oldest Winchester. Dean wouldn't call without a good reason."
"Dad", His voice sounded distressed, "Sammy got hurt, his head is bleeding."
"I'll be right there!" Without asking any further questions, he hung the receiver up and started for the front door.
Hearing his friend leave, Pastor Jim came out of the kitchen, "John, what's going on?"
"Sammy got hurt."
"I'll come with you." The priest said without hesitation, "Give me the keys, I'll drive, you are too upset right now. Don't need you to get into an accident."
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Dean returned to the gym just in time to see Mrs. Smithfield press a towel wrapped icepack against the back of his brother's head. Sam, who was now sitting on a chair, was still crying, although it was now more of a quiet sobbing than an all out wailing.
Seeing the older Winchester return, Mrs. Smithfield straightened out, taking Sam's hand and putting it on the ice pack.
"Here, hold this." She then turned to face Dean, "Now you, young man are in big trouble. You are the older one here, so you should be ashamed of yourself."
Dean let his head hang, knowing she was right, there was nothing he could say to make it better. He hurt his little brother and there was no way to ever take it back. So he was even more surprised, when he heard the outburst coming from Sam.
"You leave my brother alone. It was my fault, I hit him first."
The next thing he felt was Sammy running into him and wrapping his arms around him.
"Please Dean, please don't be mad, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I'll tell dad, so you won't get in trouble."
"It's okay Sammy, it wasn't your fault." He kneeled down and held on to the smaller boy, who once again was crying, "I was a jerk!"
Snuggling his face into the crook of Dean's neck, Sam wrapped his legs around his brother's body, "I forgive you!"
The words came out without any hesitation and with so much honesty that the older boy couldn't help but embrace his little brother even tighter.
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When John burst into the gym, closely followed by Pastor Jim, the picture hadn't changed. His oldest was still kneeling on the floor, holding on to his little brother for dear life. Mrs. Smithfield was standing over them, keeping the ice pack pressed to younger boys head.
"What happened? Sammy, are you alright?"
Sweeping his little boy out of Dean's and into his own arms, he took in the blood that was discoloring the light blue t-shirt and crusted the dark locks. Looking at Mrs. Smithfield for answers, he was surprised, when his firstborn stepped forward.
"It's my fault; I hit Sammy with a chair."
The Winchester patriarch suddenly felt anger creep up and threaten to overwhelm him. What in the world would make Dean hit his little brother over the head? Taking several deep breaths, it took all his self control to stay calm.
"You young man stay here, I will deal with you later!" Turning to the priest, he said, "Lets get Sammy to a doctor."
"There is a clinic just a few blocks from here. They should be well equipped to take care of this matter." Pastor Jim responded, already on his way out.
John followed, leaving a distraught Dean behind. The older boy had been composed until now but was starting to tremble again. Slowly, he made his way to the chair, previously occupied by Sam and sat down. He waved off any of his friends trying to comfort him. Right now all he wanted was to be alone, well actually what he really wanted was to be with Sam, but that was not an option.
Fear filled him and almost took his breath away. Yet it was not fear of being punished that scared him, it was fear of not knowing what was happening to Sammy. This was worse than any punishment anyone could ever think up for him. He was the one who did this to his little brother and now he didn't know if he was going to be alright or if maybe he…. No, he couldn't even finish that thought. His brother was fine, except of an injury to his head. But head wounds were tricky and maybe it was worse then it looked.
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Pastor Jim guided the sleek black car toward their destination while John held on to his youngest. Sam was snuggled into his father's arms, more worried about his brother than the throbbing in his head. He hoped his dad wouldn't punish Dean too harshly, maybe if he told him it wasn't his fault, he would be lenient.
The oldest Winchester in the meantime was trying to stay calm. He had seen worse head injuries, had many of them himself, but this wasn't him or even one of his hunter friends, this was one of his boys. There was no way he was going to mess around when it came to his sons. With the luck of the Winchesters this could turn into a cerebral bleed or a skull fracture.
"We are here!"
Pastor Jim's voice startled him out of his thoughts. Glancing up, he realized they were parked right in front of the clinic entrance. The priest got out first and came around the car to open the door.
"Here, let me take Sammy for a moment." He offered.
The other man shook his head and climbed out. He was not going to let go of his son. Walking through the automatic doors into the building, he stopped at the reception desk.
"My son got hit on the head, he is bleeding."
The young woman behind the counter stood up, "Hang on for just a second, I'll get a nurse for you!" She disappeared through a door behind her.
John gently stroked Sam's cheek, giving him what he hoped was a reassuring smile, "It's going to be alright squirt."
The hazel eyes, still filled with tears looked trustingly at him, "I know daddy!"
The door in front of them opened and a woman in scrubs covered with Winnie-the-pooh, Piglet and Tigger appeared, "Would you please come with me, I'll get you in a room."
"Go!" Pastor Jim, who had joint them, waved at his friend, "I'll take care of the paper work."
"Thanks!" John carried his precious cargo through the door and followed the nurse down the hall into one of the treatment rooms.
"Here, why don't you sit down and let me take a look at this." She pointed at one of the chairs.
After John sat down, she put on a pair of gloves, "This is not going to hurt much, I'm just going to take a look."
She gently pulled Sam's thick hair apart to get a closer look at the actual injury. Concerned about his son's reaction, John held on a little tighter but found that other then a slight hissing no sound or movement came from the child.
"Can you tell me your name?" the nurse asked.
"Sam!" The answer was quiet but steady.
"Well Sam that is quite a coincidence because my name is Sam too."
"No way, you're a girl and there are no girls with that name." He protested.
"Well, you are kinda right. My name is actually Samantha, but no one ever calls me that. Even my name tag says Sam, see!" She pointed at the white batch with her name and picture she wore on her uniform.
The youngest Winchesters eyes got big, "Whoa, I have to tell Dean, he will never belief me."
"Now Sam, can you do me a favor? I need to clean that wound on your head and in order for it to not hurt so much, I want to spray something on it before I start. The problem is it will burn for a minute or two."
Looking at his father for reassurance and receiving a nod, he said, "That's okay, I'm a big boy, not one of those babies from first grade."
The nurse smiled and grabbed a spray bottle from the supply cart, "Okay, here we go, first it's going to be cold and then it will burn and in the end it gets kinda tingly and you wont' feel very much for a while."
Sam crunched his teeth together, trying hard not to let the tears that were building up in his eyes fall. Suddenly remembering what his dad told Uncle Bobby the last time he had to give him stitches, he started to breathe in deeply through his nose and blew the breaths out through his mouth. After what seemed like forever the stinging was replaced by a tingling and then it started to feel really strange.
"You were right; it does feel funny now, like I can't feel anything." He stated.
"Good, so let's get this over with, okay?"
She started to clean the area antiseptic, then applied Betadine solution to it.
"We might not even have to cut your hair for the stitches, but I won't make any promises. We have to ask Dr. Gifford about that."
"Ask me what?" A gray haired man of medium build with a very wrinkly face appeared in the doorway.
"Ask you, if we need to cut Sam's hair?"
The youngest member of the Winchester clan looked worriedly at the older doctor. Hesitating for a moment and glancing from the child to the nurse and back, he finally said, "Well young man, what do you think? Should we cut Nurse Sam's hair?"
Sam giggled, "No you dummy, not hers, mine!" Realizing what he just said, he blushed, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that!"
"You are right, I am a dummy, how could I not know that your name is Sam too?" the doctor smirked, "Now, would it be alright for me to call you Sammy, just so that I'm not getting confused?"
"Okay, but only for today!" the child agreed.
"Alright Sammy, let me have a look."
Inspecting the laceration for a moment, then stepping back again, he noticed anxious hazel eyes glancing at him. Getting down on one knee to be face to face with his patient, he said, "I think we can work around that beautiful hair of yours. But I tell you, if it gets any longer and you grow a little bigger, I really have problems keeping you and Sam here apart."
Sam giggled again before saying, "Dean says I need to cut it because I look like a girl, but I want to grow it really long, because Pastor Jim said that's what made Samson from the bible invincible."
"Guess you are right with that, so maybe long hair isn't so bad after all, is it? I think it will help you be strong when I have to put the stitches in."
"Oh boy, you are going to put stitches in?" Sam turned to his father, "Did you hear that? Now I will be just as big as you and Uncle Bobby."
John had been quiet until now, listening in amazement how well first the nurse, and now the doctor, were able to get along with his sometimes so difficult youngest son. Now he couldn't hold a laugh back.
Not wanting to have his son think he was making fun of him, he hurried to say, "You're right, that will make you a big boy."
The doctor also smiled, and then continued, "Now, before I can put the stitches in, I have to give you a shot so it won't hurt." Seeing his little patient's eyes get big and his upper lip starting to quiver, he continued, "I promise you will hardly feel the shot. It's like when Nurse Sam cleaned your wound, you feel some pressure but that's all."
Still not quite convinced, the boy bit his lip and thought for a moment, before he said with a very serious expression, "Okay, you can do it, but you better are telling me the truth."
"I promise!" The old physician couldn't help a laugh escaping his lips, "Okay, here we go."
He took the syringe from the nurse and bent down to hold Sam's head still. After injecting some of the clear liquid underneath the skin surrounding the laceration he stopped and asked, "You're alright there big guy?"
"Yeah." The answer came out through slightly clenched teeth.
"I have to do this a few more times." He explained, continuing the injections.
After he finished, he laid the syringe down and changed into sterile gloves.
"Got to make sure none of those bad bugs get under your skin, so my gloves have to be really, really clean."
"You mean 'sterile'?" Sam asked.
"Yes, you are pretty smart!"
"Yep, Dean always says that too, he says I'm a smart ass."
John gasp, ready to scold his son, yet Dr. Gifford cut him off, "That's just the thing a big brother would say, isn't it? I know, I have one too, his name is Richard." He was going to add that they all called him Dick but thought better of it, anticipating his little patient's likely response to this. Instead he went on to explain the procedure of suturing the laceration. In the end he asked, "You ready for it?"
"Bring it on!" Sam said, echoing one of Dean's favorite lines.
Smiling the doctor took the needle from the tray Nurse Sam held ready. Putting in the necessary sutures, he continued to talk to his patient. Amused by the responses he got, he at the same time was amazed by the brightness of the little boy. Also physically more having the appearance of a five year old and in a lot of way acting very age appropriate, Dr. Gifford could tell that he was talking to a child whose intellect was developed way beyond his years.
"Okay, all done, you are now the proud carrier of eight stitches."
"All done? Boy, I really didn't feel anything. Just wait until I tell Dean." Sam could hardly sit still any longer, leading his dad to wrap his arms a little tighter around him.
"I guess I have only one more question before I let you go." Turning to the father, he said, "When did he have his last Tetanus shot?"
Again the little boys eyes grew big and he looked with worried anticipation at his father.
"About six month ago, the boys were playing with some boards and Sammy here got some pretty big splinters in his hand."
"Sammy, that's good news, no shot for you." Dr. Gifford smirked.
He opened a drawer and pulled some stickers out. Holding them out for his young patient to see, he said, "Alright, choose one."
Sam looked at them with a serious expression, trying to make his mind up. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he smiled.
"Can I have one for Dean too?"
The boy grabbed two stickers, pointing at the first one, he said, "This one is Dean, the other one," he held it up, "that's me."
"Great choice." The doctor agreed, then turned to John, "You can give him Tylenol every for hours. Head trauma like this usually doesn't cause concussions or other more serious injuries. The impact caused the laceration and bleeding, by doing so distributing the force more evenly on the outside instead of letting it go deep. Now if it would have been a closed wound I would have been more worried. Still, I want you to monitor him closely and bring him back, if there are any changes." He turned to Sam, "And you make sure to tell your dad or Dean if you don't feel good. Nurse Sam will clean you up a little and tomorrow your daddy can wash your hair. Just no baths for a week only showers."
"Yeah, baths are for babies anyway, I'm big now."
"Well, it was great meeting you Sam. The next time though, try not to make it so dramatic. Old doctors like me can't take that much excitement any more."
"'kay, I promise I won't hit Dean anymore so he doesn't have to hit me back."
"That's a good idea. I see you next week to take your stitches out, alright?"
"Alright, bye then!" He waved at the physician as he left the room.
Nurse Sam brought a basin with water and a wash cloth and towel and set it down beside them.
"Sammy, all I'm going to do is getting some of the blood out of your hair and off your neck."
Seeing the child nod, she proceeded with the task. After she finished, she pulled two suckers out of a drawer and handed them to him.
"One for you and one for your brother." She gave him an understanding wink, "See you next week."
"Bye Nurse Sam." The youngest Winchester waved at her.
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Once again Pastor Jim was the one to drive the Impala. After picking Dean up at the school, John let his oldest ride shotgun, while he sat in the back with Sam, unable to pull himself away from his youngest son quite yet. Although the injury had turned out to be minor he couldn't seem to shake the fear it had caused in him. With all the danger he encountered every day it seemed almost laughable, but he was just a father and his sons meant the world to him. They were the only reason he didn't put a bullet in his head after Mary died and why he continued to go on.
The Winchester patriarch was glad when the car pulled up in front of the parsonage. Although Sam insisted he could walk, he carried him inside, not letting go of him until he could deposit him on the couch in the living room.
"Stay here!" He commanded; his voice a little more forceful than intended because he could see it in the kid's eyes that he was getting ready to make a run for it. Seeing the trembling of his youngest upper lip, he added in a gentler voice, "I want you to lie down and rest for a while."
Working on pulling his shoes off, a task Sam had completed without help since before he could walk (putting them on by himself had taken just a little while longer), he noticed that although he'd received a slightly exasperated look at first, his youngest was unusually patient. His eyes where no longer looking at him and stayed fixed in the direction of the door.
Finished with his task and pulling a blanket over Sam, John turned and saw Dean standing in the door way. His oldest still looked shell shocked, his complexion paler than usual, making his freckles stand out more clearly than typical.
"Come over here and sit down!" The oldest Winchester pointed at the reclining chair beside the couch.
Taking the few steps from the door and sitting down, Dean remained silent, never making eye contact with his father.
"You know that what you did today was not acceptable?"
"Yes, Sir." The answer came without hesitation.
"Your brother could have gotten hurt a whole lot worse than he did. Be glad he didn't, but you still will have to be punished." John's voice was stern.
A tear rolled down his firstborn's cheek and for just a second the father assumed it was because of the threatened discipline. Yet when he caught the look of sorrow Dean threw to his younger brother, he realized it was because he truly felt sorry for what he had done.
Being so focused on his eldest, he was startled when a small body slammed into him and two arms wrapped around his neck.
"Please daddy, please don't punish Dean!" Sam cried, "It was my fault, I was bad, I didn't let Dean play with his friends. I kept bugging him and when he got mad, I got madder and hit him with the chair. He just pushed back. You have to punish me." Sobbing the younger boy hid his face on his father's shoulder.
John was speechless by the outbreak. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "Dean is this true?"
"No dad! Well yes, but…"
"Yes or no, which is it?"
"It's true, he bugged me and he pushed me with the chair, but I shouldn't have pushed back. I was so angry at him and before I knew what happened, it was over. It's still my fault though, so don't punish him!"
John thought for a moment, then pulled Sam away from his neck and sat him down. A mischievous smile appeared on his face. He stood up and backed up a few steps so he could see the faces of both his boys.
After letting them stew for a moment longer, he finally said, "It seems you both learned an important lesson today." He looked at Sam, "You've learned that it's important to give your brother some away time, even if you don't always like it." Seeing the kid nod, tears still running down his face, he turned to his other boy, "And you've learned that you need to be careful with your temper and think before you act."
Smiling again, he looked from face to face, again stopping a Dean's, "Oh, and just a tip. The next time you want to play with your friends without your brother bothering you, you could just promise him to spend some extra time with him later. Belief me, that works wonders." Taking another breath, he added, "Now for the punishment…"
Two pairs of eyes, one deep green, old beyond his years; the other hazel, speaking of secrets as deep as the universe, were hanging on him with fearful expectations. Knowing what he was planning to say next, John savored the moment prior to revealing the punishment like an executioner would enjoy the seconds before chopping off the head of a condemned prisoner.
Feeling he tortured his son's enough, he decided to end it, "Your punishment will be… that you have to be brothers for the rest of your life!"
He couldn't help laughing when he saw the astounded looks on the kid's faces. They had been ready for just about anything but this. Finally Sam threw himself into his brother's arms, "I'm sorry, I want to be your brother forever, I promise I don't do it again."
"It's alright Sammy, I forgive you. I'm sorry too; I really didn't want to hurt you. Can you forgive me?"
"I forgive you." The younger boy said earnestly.
"Now you need to lie down." Dean lead his brother back to the couch and helped him lie down, covering him with the blanket, "You okay squirt?"
"Fine." Sam responded, rummaging around in his jean pocket and pulling the stickers out of them. Peeling one of them off its backing, he pressed it onto his older sibling's chest, repeating the same on his chest with the other sticker, "See, you are Batman and I'm Robin."
Grinning over his whole face, Dean said, "See, I've told you that for a long time."
"I got something else."
The younger boy pulled the suckers out of his pocket also and handed one to his brother.
Dean unwrapped it, "You are such a girl."
"Okay, so you are not a girl, but you are a little bitch." He smirked, pushing the sucker into his mouth.
"And you are a big jerk!" Sam responded without missing a beat, the content smile on his face belying the seemingly harsh words, he'd just given and received.
John, who was still laughing, was now joined by Pastor Jim. Having quietly observed ever since the "punishment" conversation started, he now looked at his friend, his expression one of approval.
"Good one Johnny!"
So just too add, as I said in the beginning, this happened to my children. It was my daughter, ten at the time, who pushed her brother with the chair and my son, who then had just turned fourteen, who pushed back. They certainly didn't hug each other, that would be jucky, but each of them took the fault on his/herself to prevent the other one from getting punished. After all the drama, this was one of the sweetest things I've seen them do for one another. Usually I like I have two deadly enemies at my house.
Hope you liked it. Either way, please let me know what you think, it really would make me feel good. Hugs, Vonnie