Heyyy guys

Yeah… like always. :D

This is for the awesome becci* who whished for a hair-cut fic. So… I hope you like it darling.

Also a big kiss and a hug to my sis, who stayed awake with me will I've completed this fic. I love you.


A Hairy Problem Normal Perspective

"Ahhhhhhhh" The recently sixteen year old teen was roughly wakened by his little brother's shout. Immediately he was on his feet, heading to the bathroom, where the shout came from, a gun in his hand.

"Sam… what the…" he looked around in the little room and than confused at his brother. The eleven year old kid stared at his brother with wide eyes and then at the gun.

"What do you want with this thing?" Sam asked, frowning at his brother.

"I have…" Dean stammered, looking at the weapon. "… No idea…. Do I need to shoot the thing that made you scream?" He looked at the younger boy seriously.

"No" Sam answered, shaking his head, like Dean had lost his mind.

"Fine… than… I don't need this anymore." Dean shrugged, depositing the gun on a table, before turning back to Sam. "Why did you scream? Have you seen your ugly face in the mirror?" He teased, making his way over to Sam.

"Jerk." Sam murmured, turning around a little to show dean his misery. "Look at this… there is a chewing gum in my hair." Sam complained, looking like he was going to cry.

"Aw Sammy." Dean shook his head, his hands still shaking from the shock, he just received. "Let me try to get it out." He gently gripped his brother's shoulder, pulling him close.

"Can you get it out?" Sam asked hopefully, letting Dean inspect his hair.

"That's pretty nasty." Dean declared, then he chuckled. "Well… I could say that I told you so."

"Shut up." Sam murmured, pressing the other side of his head with his palm, to stop the other side from hurting.

"I told you a million times that you shouldn't go to bed with a chewing gum in your mouth. But you have to learn the hard way, kiddo." Dean smiled.

"Ow." Sam yelped.

"Ugh… Sammy" Dean began, dropping his hand.

"No way." Sam screamed, running to the other side of the room.

"Sam." Dean stressed the other boy's name, forcing him to look up, straight into his eyes.

"You WON'T cut my hair." Sam shouted across the room.

"The gum his as hard as stone." Dean made his way over to the younger boy. "You have to have a haircut anyway. It won't hurt." He joked half-hearty, knowing that the boy loved it to have long hair. Truth to be told, he didn't want to have it shorter, too. Sam looked younger with this hair and Dean hated to know that Sam grew up, already.

"There has to be another possibility." Sam begged, when Dean fetched the scissors.

"Come here." Dean forced his little brother, with the same voice their dad used when he said these words.

Sam let out a frustrated sigh, tears in his eyes, knowing that fighting Dean would be senseless, sitting down on the chair, head resting in his hands.

"I don't have to cut away much, I promise." Dean ran a hand through his beloved brother's hair, avoiding the bitch in the hair.

"It won't work like this." Dean smiled, when Sam cringed every time Dean lifted his hand. "Come on, Sammy, do you trust me?"

"Yeah" Sam nodded, eyeing the scissors.

"Good." Dean nodded, but poked Sam's sides when he still sat there, his head down. Dean grinned even brighter, when Sam jumped with a loud yelp.

"Not so much." Sam begged, sitting still.

"Yeah." Dean gripped the one curl of Sam the chewing gum was in and winced, when Sam jerked back. "So…let's get this thing out."

Dean took a deep breath, biting his lip, while he squeezed Sam's neck one last time. Sam clenched his fists. Both boys were thinking the same thing. Sam would have short hair like Dean had and neither of them got along with that.

The first cut made Sam squirm.

"Here we go, there's this nasty monster." Dean joked joylessly, handing Sam the hair.

"Ugh…" Sam whined, when he saw how long the hair was. "I should listen to you more often." He whispered, whishing he wouldn't have slept with a chewing gum in his mouth.

"Remember this." Dean smiled fondly, going on with his work, keeping talking to distract his brother. "I'm kind of feel like the chick of the house."

Sam looked up at his brother with a curious expression. Dean just smiled down for a moment, not cutting.

After a little while, working in silent, he explained.

"I'm cleaning everything up, preparing our meals, patching dad and you up… and bringing you to bed." Dean rambled, gently comparing the lengths of the dark hair.

"You aren't bringing me to bed anymore." Sam pouted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I so do." Dean grinned, bit his face saddened, when he ruffled Sam's short hair, so the hair looked more natural. Eleven years old. Dean thought. Why do you have to get older?

"What's up?" Sam lifted his hands to his hair, not wanting to get up till he was allowed. "Doesn't it look good?"

"No, no." Dean assured, faking a smile, that didn't reach his eyes; he knew that Sam was a bitch about his hair. "You look… older. Get up and take a look." Dean patted Sam's shoulder, chasing him, when he walked over to the mirror.

Sam didn't look happy when he saw himself. "I don't like it." Sam stated with a thick voice, tearing up.

Me neither… me neither. Dean thought, his heart screaming in protest, when he lied to his brother: "I like it actually better, now you don't look like a little monkey."

Sam nodded violently, sitting back down on the chair. Dean's heart broke by the unshed tears in his brother's eyes.

"Hey, little buddy, they will grow fast." Dean laid a hand on the short hair, a little uneasy. Sam is growing up, Sam's growing up.

"Yeah…" Sam cleared his throat. "But you don't like it."

"Sam I've just said, that…"

"No" Sam interrupted, tears on is cheek. "Stop lying."

"Uff… Sammy" Dean murmured, kneeling in front of the chair, forcing Sam to look at him, with a thumb on his little brother's chin. "I don't… I do like the new haircut." Dean gently ran his other hand through the now short hair, cringing by doing it.

"What is it then?" Sam asked.

"You are growing so fast." Dean smiled sadly, caressing Sam's check, whipping the tears away. "You're nearly twelve and now you're face looks like you're already twelve."

This made Sam smile. "Well… you are getting older, too, you know."

"Yeah…" Dean smiled, getting up. "As long as I'm taller than you."

"Thanks Dean" Sam took Dean's sleeve, pulling him closer and slung his arms around his waist.

"You're welcome, lil bro." Little Brother. Dean hugged him back, patting his head. He wouldn't get used to this hair cut.


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