This is another response to "Oh Sam" comment meme on Live journal. Basically, it's a place with a bunch of prompts that anyone can chose to answer.
This prompt was; Everything is going fine... until Sam sees a fly in his soup, It isn't maggots in his sandwich but it is enough. He freaks out. Cue protective and growly big brother Dean. It can be slash or gen
I wasn't exactly sure what "growly" meant, but this is what came out.
A Fly in Their Soup
It was a stupid thing to freak out about. Sam would realize that later (when he was done screaming his head off like a girl), or Dean hoped he would.
Seriously, it was just a fly. But Dean knew Hell left you with some pretty strange phobias, so he wasn't one to judge.
"Hey, hey calm down Sammy," he coaxed, holding his brother in place as Sam attempted to thrash out of his arms. His little brother seemed almost delirious from the sight of a fly in his soup.
Dean could remember doing something like that as a joke a long time ago.
When they were kids, there was always some kind of prank war going on. He could distinctly remember slipping a rubber spider into Sam's sandwich once. Sam had thrown him an evil glare, but hadn't freaked out like Dean had hoped he would.
God, there was a time that he had wanted his little brother to freak out. That thought alone was enough to make him wonder if he had been as good a big brother as he had believed himself to be.
"Look, little brother," he gently commanded, using his free hand to grab the spoon and fish the fly out.
Sam looked like he was about to starting screaming again (in an even higher pitch this time), but Dean continued with his task.
Holding a struggling Sammy in place with only one hand was extremely difficult, but he managed. He had his arm wrapped Sam's chest, restricting almost all of his movement.
He dumped the spoon full of soup with the fly onto the table, and Sam's eyes latched onto the bug with terror.
"It's already dead, baby brother," Dean stated. "I didn't know there was a certain pitch you could hit that would kill a bug; you'll have to teach me that one. Never know, it might come in handy." He was teasing a little, and he knew it. He just didn't know any better way to deal with a hysterical brother.
Sam was still shaking, but had given up trying to get away from Dean. Instead, he had turned into his big brother, clinging to Dean's shirt and attempting to hide his head in Dean's shoulder. God, how long had it been since Sam had done that?
"Ok, we're gonna make sure this fly never bothers anyone ever again," Dean decided. "It doesn't need to buzz away and make other baby brothers freak out. You wanna help me make sure it doesn't hurt anyone else, Sammy?" he asked.
He didn't know exactly what he was doing, but he hoped it was working.
This had helped Sam get over his fears as a kid. Dean would help him face things he was scared of (after they had already been killed by Dean himself, of course) so they "wouldn't hurt anyone else". It had always worked because Sam was far too nice for his own good.
"Nu-uh," Sam denied, shaking his head frantically. "I don't wanna go near it."
"Ok, that's ok," Dean agreed. "I'll do it for you."
He would have to pull Sam with him to "kill" the thing, so that would bring Sam closer.
He had never failed yet at getting Sam to face his fears. Unless you counted clowns. His little brother just didn't do clowns.
He picked up one of the heavy books that Sammy was always reading, and dropped it onto the poor, unsuspecting, lifeless fly. He then put pressure on the book and moved it back and forth.
It was getting the fly's guts all over the book, and his little brother was going to kill him for that later.
He carefully pulled his brother from his shoulder, and planted one of Sam's huge hands on the book. He put his other hand over Sam's and softly pushed down.
He had Sam trapped between his arms now, so there was no escaping.
Sam shuddered, but allowed Dean to manipulate him.
Dean moved their hands to ground the dead insect into the table again.
"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Dean questioned.
Sam peaked at him from behind his lashes. How did his baby brother do that when he was taller than Dean?
The look he was giving Dean should've been illegal; it was so innocent and pure Sammy. No twenty nine year old man should be able to look that much like a five year old.
"Yes it was," Sammy pouted.
Oh yeah; he was in full little brother mode. That meant Dean would get to take care of him for awhile. Good, Dean missed being allowed to take care of the kid he had practically raised.
It also meant that Sammy would be clingy, snuggly, and somewhat whiny. He only ever went into little brother mode when he was traumatized or really tired now-a-days.
Sure enough, the whiny part was proven a second latter.
"Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeean! You got it on my book!"
It was accompanied by a pout.
This was going to be a good night.
I honestly only do these when I want to write something, but am lost for ideas on my stories. This was written a couple days ago, and I'm only now getting around to posting it.