majestic_duxk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
majestic_duxk) wrote2014-11-29 08:05 pm
majestic_duxk) wrote2014-11-29 08:05 pm
Entry tags:
- character: ash,
- character: bobby singer,
- character: castiel,
- character: dean winchester,
- character: garth,
- character: missouri,
- character: sam winchester,
- fandom: supernatural,
- kink: crying dean,
- kink: cuddling,
- kink: daddy sam,
- kink: manhandling,
- kink: non consensual relationship,
- kink: non sexual orgasm denial,
- kink: nonsexual infantilism,
- pairing: sam and dean,
- part 3,
- rating: m,
- title: born again winchester
Born Again Winchesters (Part 3)
part 1 | part 2
--
The next part of the drive had been uneventful. Sam let Dean sleep until he woke naturally (and conveniently) near a small town. As he saw his baby’s eyes start to flutter, Sam had pulled into the nearest gas station, before hustling Dean out of the car. Dean headed straight for the bathroom, and happily (for both their peace of minds, had Dean but known it) there was a single toilet inside the main building. Sam would have felt weird following Dean inside had there been outside facilities, but he would have. Dean’s safety was much more important than short term embarrassment.
His baby was pretty, and he was taking no chances.
As it was, he just lurked until Dean was done, ignoring the cranky look his baby gave him as he ran straight into him. He opened his mouth, ready to complain, but a rather large stomach growl stopped him before he started. Sam chuckled, sending Dean a fond look.
It was enough for Dean to change topics. “You filled up Baby yet?” Dean asked hopefully. “We need to go get food – I’m starving!”
Sam considered. He really wanted to get to their new home (home! They actually had a home now!) as soon as possible. But there were still quite a few hours of steady driving, and a hungry baby was a cranky baby.
“I’ll go fill up the car, Dean, and you choose some snacks for the road. But not too many. We’ll stop at a diner and grab some food. But we’re still a few hours away so a few snacks will be…”
Sam’s voice trailed off, and Dean turned to go, but Sam gripped his shoulder.
“Could you try to get something a little healthy this time, Dean? You really haven’t been eating well. Maybe try something fresh, that hasn’t been processed and dipped in God knows what preservatives?”
Dean scoffed at him. “What are you? My mother? Feel free to eat what you want, Sammy. But there ain’t nothing wrong with good ol’ American gas station food.” He paused to throw Sam a cheeky grin. “It makes diner food seem like Cordon Bleu! Need to stock up on snacks anyway. For next time.”
Sam blinked. What did that mean? Dean didn’t wait for a response, instead turning crisply on his heel and walking away. Straight towards the chips and candy.
As expected.
Shaking his head, Sam went to fill up the car. That wasn’t healthy. None of Dean’s food choices were healthy. He’d been at Dean for a long time about his poor eating habits. And his brother generally responded by ordering the most cholesterol laden item he could find.
However, things were going to change now. Soon Sam would be able to do something about it. And there wouldn’t be a ‘next time’.
He forced his shoulders to relax: stressing out about it now wasn’t going to help. And it was all going to be fine. Dean just didn’t have the right tools to make good choices. He’d grown up on the road, eating diner food and scrounging what he could. He wasn’t raised properly, Sam thought, not for the first time. He wasn’t loved properly. He was forced to parent Sam when he was still a baby himself.
Sam couldn’t change the past, but he could sure change what Dean did now.
His thoughts just confirmed he’d made the right decision.
While his mind idled on about Dean, the splutter and click from the gas pump brought him back to the present. Sam made sure the fuel cap was secured firmly, before hurrying back. Hopefully to grab Dean before he bought the store out of junk.
It wasn’t a moment too soon. Inside he found Dean already at the register, arms full of the expected chips and candy. He was in the process of ordering a large coffee when Sam tapped him on the shoulder. Dean’s face lit up with a smile.
“Nice timing! You want coffee too, Sammy?”
Sam shook his head. “We’re heading to a diner, Dean, for something approaching proper food. If you need coffee let’s get it there.”
Shooting him a bitch face, Dean made a big production of cancelling the order (Sam rolled his eyes. The woman hadn’t picked up the paper cup), before paying for the snacks. He went to walk away – intent on leaving Sam to pay for the gas – but there was no way his baby was going to wander around out there. Sam’s hand shot out, gripping Dean’s wrist. Dean shot him a surprised look, but didn’t make to pull away. He’d drop his snacks. Instead he settled for glaring at Sam.
Sam idly wondered how he was going to work on the attitude. Because daddy wasn’t going to put up with that behaviour.
Gas paid for, Sam escorted Dean to the car, one hand firmly pressed to the small of Dean’s back. As soon as they were out the door, Dean shook his hand off, but Sam just lengthened his stride, keeping pace with Dean.
Dean walked to the driver’s door. Although he still looked exhausted, Dean directed his most hopeful look towards Sam. Of course. Sam still had the keys…
Sam considered. They weren’t going far. And Dean wouldn’t be driving for the foreseeable future. Heaving a sigh, Sam handed the keys over.
“But only to the nearest restaurant Dean. I still don’t trust you to drive without falling asleep or something.”
Shooting Sam a bitch face, Dean still happily grabbed the keys, practically drooling on the steering wheel. He couldn’t really complain though. Although he wanted to drive – and would have, given the chance – he really couldn’t guarantee that he would stay awake. Maybe after some coffee he’d feel more alert. Be more alert, he corrected himself. He didn’t want to have an accident. He still had to look after Sammy, as long as he was sticking around.
Still. He wanted the best drive he could get. He’d look for a place as far out of town as Sammy would allow.
He frowned as he caught Sam’s indulgent look. Fucker knew exactly what he was thinking. How did that happen? When did that happen? And what the fuck was up with Sam? This was not normal behaviour. Normally Sam would be bitching Dean out – about God knows what; safety, responsibilities, blah blah blah. Dean was bored just thinking about it.
And while he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, he was still worried Sam’s lack of disappointed complaining. And even more concerned when Sam didn’t bat an eyelid when they found themselves in the car park of The Steak Barn.
Despite a raised eyebrow, Sam managed to not say anything. The menu dripped with everything meaty. A good portion of deep fried, and Dean had to admit he was impressed when Sam managed to find a salad on the third page, somewhere between bbq ribs, and the 120 ounce steak.
--
Dean was sulking.
He’d been sulking since Sam denied him beer. By cancelling his fucking order! He’d grudgingly accepted that he wouldn’t be driving. He couldn’t argue with Sam’s safety talk. And since he wasn’t driving… why not a beer? It wasn’t fucking unusual. They drank all the time. Sam hadn’t batted an eyelid (although his expression was somewhat grim) as he ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, deep fried ribs, and two slices of pie for dessert.
“I’ll order another burger if I’m still hungry,” he’d said with a wink at the waitress. She’d smiled back, but it was a tight smile. That would be the powerful influence of Sam’s bitch face, Dean decided.
--
Sam watched, decidedly unimpressed, as Dean ordered a heart attack on a plate, all the while flirting with the waitress.
He’d already decided to let Dean have the last supper of his choice. So he let Dean’s order pass without question. He watched grimly watched as Dean ordered the most deep fried monstrosities on the menu (and he knew it was to spite him. Whether Dean knew or not was another question entirely…) but the moment his baby ordered alcohol, that was it.
Sam ordered his salad, and then calmly cancelled his drink order. He smiled at the waitress. “Sorry, Dean won’t be having any beer tonight. I’ll let you know when he’s ready to order something else to drink.”
The waitress blinked, but crossed out the order. She was barely out of earshot when Dean managed to raise himself from his shocked stupor. “What. The. Fuck? What the fuck was that, Sam?”
Sam raised an eyebrow. The swearing was definitely going to have to stop, but he responded calmly enough. “You’ve been passing out. You’re exhausted and emotionally unstable. A beer isn’t going to fix that. If anything, it’ll make it worse.”
“But I wanted it.” Dean knew he was whining, but he wasn’t equipped to deal with this. It had been a long fucking day. Day? Try month. Or year. He scrubbed at his face. Dean didn’t know what to make of this calm, weird Sam. The Sam who denied him his life giving booze.
Winchesters always dealt with life via drink. Something to celebrate? Hit a bar. Need some money? Hustle at pool. And when he and Sammy fought… Fuck. Fights were unavoidable. When you’re living out of someone’s back pocket like that. And it inevitably lead to arguments – loud arguments that generally ended with one of them storming out. Arguments that generally involved both of them staring down the bottom of a bottle. Arguments that were never spoken of again.
When had the fucking rules changed?
Throwing himself back in his seat, he glowered. It wasn’t just that it was beer. It was… He couldn’t remember anyone ever preventing him from ordering whatever the hell he wanted before. He didn’t know why Sam started now, but he sure as hell didn’t like it.
He and Sam would be having words.
--
Sam eyed his baby from under lowered lashes. Over tired and fractious. But so cute. It was subconscious, but Dean’s lip extended in a mighty pout. Sam wanted to reach out and pull at that lip, pulling it until he got a smile. But now wasn’t time. Sighing, he looked over the menu. “Juice or a milkshake.”
Dean looked at him scathingly. “I don’t think…”
“Or water. Actually it would be a good idea to drink water anyway.” Sam gestured to the waitress and Dean felt totally off balance. What the fuck was going on?
“Milkshake! Caramel!”
Sam, who had been talking to the waitress, stopped and looked at him. Grabbing his hand, he stroked the top of it, before smiling. “Thank you, Dean.” He looked back at the waitress. “And a caramel milkshake, please. Child sized.”
The waitress noted it down, but gave them both a look like they were crazy. Dean didn’t blame her. He had no fucking idea what was going on.
--
Despite ordering enough to feed them both, Dean only picked at his food.
Sam eyed him warily, but he didn’t say anything. Pushing wasn’t going to help anything. And hr really didn’t want to have the conversation here. So it was up to Dean to make the conversational opening.
And wasn’t that confusing! Sam was acting totally out of character. He didn’t try to talk to Dean about his feelings. It was strange. It was really fucking strange. And taking a holiday! Dean hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about that. The concept was just so… foreign to everything he knew.
Finally, Dean couldn’t deal with the silence.
“Aren’t you going to ask what’s wrong?”
Sam looked up. Dean looked equal parts angry and scared. Scared of Sam’s reaction, he realised sadly. He and Dean hadn’t had a healthy relationship in a long time. He couldn’t help laughing to himself. How fucked up that Sam forcing Dean to be his baby was going to be the healthy choice.
He didn’t want to discuss it. But he needed to answer Dean’s question. That was one of Sam’s rules for himself: when Dean asked something, Sam would answer fully and completely. He wanted Dean to trust Sam, and know he was safe and secure. It was important.
Dean also needed to learn that Daddy knows best, and ultimately, that Daddy’s word was final. Surprisingly, Sam wasn’t imagining too much trouble. For most of his life Dean had obeyed John. Sam was now slipping into that position. This time though, it would be filled with love and affection. Sam’s heart broke a little, thinking of that little Dean.
Sam eyed Dean’s meal. It had congealed rather unappealingly. Health. That was another thing Sam would focus on. His Deanie was going to be the happiest, healthiest – and cutest - baby ever.
Right now his Deanie looked rather uncomfortable. He was still waiting on an answer, Sam realised with a start. He asked a question and you’re already fucking up, he berated himself. He grabbed Dean’s water and took a sip. Just calm down, slow down. New dad’s make mistakes all the time. There is nothing wrong with you.
Clearing his throat, Sam put down the glass of water, and leaned across the table, grabbing one of Dean’s hands.
Dean looked shocked.
“Uh. Sammy? Why are you holding my hand?”
Sam figured he’d answer that question first. Remember to be immediate. “Because I know you’re still worried I’ll leave. That I’m mad at you and hiding it. But you’re wrong. It’s the total it’s the total opposite, really. I’m not mad at you. And I’m here for the long haul. I’ll never leave you again, Dean,” Sam finished intensely.
Looking even more uncomfortable, Dean attempted to regain his hand. Sam simply tightened his grip. Daddy’s rule. Daddy decides when the baby gets his space.
Sam let the silence run for a few seconds, before giving Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze, and settling back against his seat. “And no. I’m not going to ask what’s wrong. I have a pretty good idea, but I think it’s going to be a long conversation. Which makes it a good conversation to have in the morning. We’ll get to the new place, we’ll get settled in, and we’ll talk about how things are going to change.”
It was probably fortunate the waitress turned up at that point. Dean looked ready to argue, and this just wasn’t the place.
“Anything else I can get you boys?”
To Sam’s immense satisfaction she looked straight at Sam. Dean frowned, but answered politely enough. “I ordered pie. Can I get coffee with that?”
The waitress tilted he head at Sam. He thought about it. Dean wouldn’t be having coffee for a very long time. “Just a small cup, Dean. You need sleep and the caffeine won’t help.”
It was true, he reasoned with himself. It wasn’t the main reason, but that didn’t make him it a lie.
Dean made a face, but he didn’t argue. Sam just smiled serenely.
--
Dean has done his usual trick of leaving when Sam paid. That wasn’t going to happen anymore. It wasn’t safe for a little kid to go wandering off alone. At least he hadn’t gone far.
in face, he was leaning against the driver side door. Hearing his brother approach, he hauled himself upright, holding out his hands. Sam just looked at, eyebrow raised.
“Keys, bitch.”
Sam didn’t bother hiding the smirk. “I don’t think so, Dean.” Dean looked ready to argue, so Sam steamrollered over him. “We’ve already discussed this. And you agreed,” he added pointedly. “You almost crashed the car, you still haven’t had enough sleep, you barely touched dinner – which, by the way was pretty much guaranteed to give you indigestion. Plus you don’t know where we’re going.”
Sam had held out a hand, and though he may have glowered, he handed the keys over easily enough. Grabbing Dean’s shoulder, Sam marched him round to the passenger side. “So sit. This is your seat.” Sam paused, eyeing his brother. “Unless you want to sit in the back?”
That snapped Dean, who had been looking somewhat mutinous, out of his stupor. “What the fuck, Sammy? In the back? Kids and angels sit in the back.”
Sam ignored Dean’s look as he opened the door, shutting it gently after him. Once Sam was buckled in Dean added with an eyebrow wiggle, “Well it’s sometimes adults in the back.”
Chuckling to himself he turned his back on Sam, settling into the corner.
He didn’t even react when Sam played some light music – designed to help babies sleep without sounding like it was made for babies. Sam couldn’t help the little thrill that shot through his body. Soon he’d have his baby at home, where he could look after him properly. He couldn’t wait!
It wasn’t long until Sam realised why Dean had been so accommodating. Not even fifteen minutes on the road and Dean was asleep, complete with soft little snores.
Sam was delighted. It gave him time to think.
--
They made excellent time. It was before 11 when Sam pulled into their driveway. As he turned off the engine, he glanced at Dean. A soft smile lit his face. Still sleeping like a baby.
Sam took a deep breath, and then it hit him: they were here. They were home. Not only did they have a driveway, they had a whole fucking house! Getting out of the car, Sam leant on the car and just looked at the house, taking it all in. Not that he could see much in the dark.
But it was welcoming, and that light in the lounge room window...
Fuck. That was a light! Why was there a light on?
Sam dithered by the car– he needed to check this out. He couldn't take Deanie in if there was danger. But at the same time he couldn't leave him in the car by himself. He'd never been in this position before...
Before he could come to a decision, his phone beeped before he had to make a decision
There was a message from Bobby.
Those idjits just told me they left a welcome light on. Damn fools. House is airtight. Take your boy inside. Welcome home. Sam.
--
part 1 | part 2
--
The next part of the drive had been uneventful. Sam let Dean sleep until he woke naturally (and conveniently) near a small town. As he saw his baby’s eyes start to flutter, Sam had pulled into the nearest gas station, before hustling Dean out of the car. Dean headed straight for the bathroom, and happily (for both their peace of minds, had Dean but known it) there was a single toilet inside the main building. Sam would have felt weird following Dean inside had there been outside facilities, but he would have. Dean’s safety was much more important than short term embarrassment.
His baby was pretty, and he was taking no chances.
As it was, he just lurked until Dean was done, ignoring the cranky look his baby gave him as he ran straight into him. He opened his mouth, ready to complain, but a rather large stomach growl stopped him before he started. Sam chuckled, sending Dean a fond look.
It was enough for Dean to change topics. “You filled up Baby yet?” Dean asked hopefully. “We need to go get food – I’m starving!”
Sam considered. He really wanted to get to their new home (home! They actually had a home now!) as soon as possible. But there were still quite a few hours of steady driving, and a hungry baby was a cranky baby.
“I’ll go fill up the car, Dean, and you choose some snacks for the road. But not too many. We’ll stop at a diner and grab some food. But we’re still a few hours away so a few snacks will be…”
Sam’s voice trailed off, and Dean turned to go, but Sam gripped his shoulder.
“Could you try to get something a little healthy this time, Dean? You really haven’t been eating well. Maybe try something fresh, that hasn’t been processed and dipped in God knows what preservatives?”
Dean scoffed at him. “What are you? My mother? Feel free to eat what you want, Sammy. But there ain’t nothing wrong with good ol’ American gas station food.” He paused to throw Sam a cheeky grin. “It makes diner food seem like Cordon Bleu! Need to stock up on snacks anyway. For next time.”
Sam blinked. What did that mean? Dean didn’t wait for a response, instead turning crisply on his heel and walking away. Straight towards the chips and candy.
As expected.
Shaking his head, Sam went to fill up the car. That wasn’t healthy. None of Dean’s food choices were healthy. He’d been at Dean for a long time about his poor eating habits. And his brother generally responded by ordering the most cholesterol laden item he could find.
However, things were going to change now. Soon Sam would be able to do something about it. And there wouldn’t be a ‘next time’.
He forced his shoulders to relax: stressing out about it now wasn’t going to help. And it was all going to be fine. Dean just didn’t have the right tools to make good choices. He’d grown up on the road, eating diner food and scrounging what he could. He wasn’t raised properly, Sam thought, not for the first time. He wasn’t loved properly. He was forced to parent Sam when he was still a baby himself.
Sam couldn’t change the past, but he could sure change what Dean did now.
His thoughts just confirmed he’d made the right decision.
While his mind idled on about Dean, the splutter and click from the gas pump brought him back to the present. Sam made sure the fuel cap was secured firmly, before hurrying back. Hopefully to grab Dean before he bought the store out of junk.
It wasn’t a moment too soon. Inside he found Dean already at the register, arms full of the expected chips and candy. He was in the process of ordering a large coffee when Sam tapped him on the shoulder. Dean’s face lit up with a smile.
“Nice timing! You want coffee too, Sammy?”
Sam shook his head. “We’re heading to a diner, Dean, for something approaching proper food. If you need coffee let’s get it there.”
Shooting him a bitch face, Dean made a big production of cancelling the order (Sam rolled his eyes. The woman hadn’t picked up the paper cup), before paying for the snacks. He went to walk away – intent on leaving Sam to pay for the gas – but there was no way his baby was going to wander around out there. Sam’s hand shot out, gripping Dean’s wrist. Dean shot him a surprised look, but didn’t make to pull away. He’d drop his snacks. Instead he settled for glaring at Sam.
Sam idly wondered how he was going to work on the attitude. Because daddy wasn’t going to put up with that behaviour.
Gas paid for, Sam escorted Dean to the car, one hand firmly pressed to the small of Dean’s back. As soon as they were out the door, Dean shook his hand off, but Sam just lengthened his stride, keeping pace with Dean.
Dean walked to the driver’s door. Although he still looked exhausted, Dean directed his most hopeful look towards Sam. Of course. Sam still had the keys…
Sam considered. They weren’t going far. And Dean wouldn’t be driving for the foreseeable future. Heaving a sigh, Sam handed the keys over.
“But only to the nearest restaurant Dean. I still don’t trust you to drive without falling asleep or something.”
Shooting Sam a bitch face, Dean still happily grabbed the keys, practically drooling on the steering wheel. He couldn’t really complain though. Although he wanted to drive – and would have, given the chance – he really couldn’t guarantee that he would stay awake. Maybe after some coffee he’d feel more alert. Be more alert, he corrected himself. He didn’t want to have an accident. He still had to look after Sammy, as long as he was sticking around.
Still. He wanted the best drive he could get. He’d look for a place as far out of town as Sammy would allow.
He frowned as he caught Sam’s indulgent look. Fucker knew exactly what he was thinking. How did that happen? When did that happen? And what the fuck was up with Sam? This was not normal behaviour. Normally Sam would be bitching Dean out – about God knows what; safety, responsibilities, blah blah blah. Dean was bored just thinking about it.
And while he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, he was still worried Sam’s lack of disappointed complaining. And even more concerned when Sam didn’t bat an eyelid when they found themselves in the car park of The Steak Barn.
Despite a raised eyebrow, Sam managed to not say anything. The menu dripped with everything meaty. A good portion of deep fried, and Dean had to admit he was impressed when Sam managed to find a salad on the third page, somewhere between bbq ribs, and the 120 ounce steak.
--
Dean was sulking.
He’d been sulking since Sam denied him beer. By cancelling his fucking order! He’d grudgingly accepted that he wouldn’t be driving. He couldn’t argue with Sam’s safety talk. And since he wasn’t driving… why not a beer? It wasn’t fucking unusual. They drank all the time. Sam hadn’t batted an eyelid (although his expression was somewhat grim) as he ordered a double cheeseburger, fries, deep fried ribs, and two slices of pie for dessert.
“I’ll order another burger if I’m still hungry,” he’d said with a wink at the waitress. She’d smiled back, but it was a tight smile. That would be the powerful influence of Sam’s bitch face, Dean decided.
--
Sam watched, decidedly unimpressed, as Dean ordered a heart attack on a plate, all the while flirting with the waitress.
He’d already decided to let Dean have the last supper of his choice. So he let Dean’s order pass without question. He watched grimly watched as Dean ordered the most deep fried monstrosities on the menu (and he knew it was to spite him. Whether Dean knew or not was another question entirely…) but the moment his baby ordered alcohol, that was it.
Sam ordered his salad, and then calmly cancelled his drink order. He smiled at the waitress. “Sorry, Dean won’t be having any beer tonight. I’ll let you know when he’s ready to order something else to drink.”
The waitress blinked, but crossed out the order. She was barely out of earshot when Dean managed to raise himself from his shocked stupor. “What. The. Fuck? What the fuck was that, Sam?”
Sam raised an eyebrow. The swearing was definitely going to have to stop, but he responded calmly enough. “You’ve been passing out. You’re exhausted and emotionally unstable. A beer isn’t going to fix that. If anything, it’ll make it worse.”
“But I wanted it.” Dean knew he was whining, but he wasn’t equipped to deal with this. It had been a long fucking day. Day? Try month. Or year. He scrubbed at his face. Dean didn’t know what to make of this calm, weird Sam. The Sam who denied him his life giving booze.
Winchesters always dealt with life via drink. Something to celebrate? Hit a bar. Need some money? Hustle at pool. And when he and Sammy fought… Fuck. Fights were unavoidable. When you’re living out of someone’s back pocket like that. And it inevitably lead to arguments – loud arguments that generally ended with one of them storming out. Arguments that generally involved both of them staring down the bottom of a bottle. Arguments that were never spoken of again.
When had the fucking rules changed?
Throwing himself back in his seat, he glowered. It wasn’t just that it was beer. It was… He couldn’t remember anyone ever preventing him from ordering whatever the hell he wanted before. He didn’t know why Sam started now, but he sure as hell didn’t like it.
He and Sam would be having words.
--
Sam eyed his baby from under lowered lashes. Over tired and fractious. But so cute. It was subconscious, but Dean’s lip extended in a mighty pout. Sam wanted to reach out and pull at that lip, pulling it until he got a smile. But now wasn’t time. Sighing, he looked over the menu. “Juice or a milkshake.”
Dean looked at him scathingly. “I don’t think…”
“Or water. Actually it would be a good idea to drink water anyway.” Sam gestured to the waitress and Dean felt totally off balance. What the fuck was going on?
“Milkshake! Caramel!”
Sam, who had been talking to the waitress, stopped and looked at him. Grabbing his hand, he stroked the top of it, before smiling. “Thank you, Dean.” He looked back at the waitress. “And a caramel milkshake, please. Child sized.”
The waitress noted it down, but gave them both a look like they were crazy. Dean didn’t blame her. He had no fucking idea what was going on.
--
Despite ordering enough to feed them both, Dean only picked at his food.
Sam eyed him warily, but he didn’t say anything. Pushing wasn’t going to help anything. And hr really didn’t want to have the conversation here. So it was up to Dean to make the conversational opening.
And wasn’t that confusing! Sam was acting totally out of character. He didn’t try to talk to Dean about his feelings. It was strange. It was really fucking strange. And taking a holiday! Dean hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about that. The concept was just so… foreign to everything he knew.
Finally, Dean couldn’t deal with the silence.
“Aren’t you going to ask what’s wrong?”
Sam looked up. Dean looked equal parts angry and scared. Scared of Sam’s reaction, he realised sadly. He and Dean hadn’t had a healthy relationship in a long time. He couldn’t help laughing to himself. How fucked up that Sam forcing Dean to be his baby was going to be the healthy choice.
He didn’t want to discuss it. But he needed to answer Dean’s question. That was one of Sam’s rules for himself: when Dean asked something, Sam would answer fully and completely. He wanted Dean to trust Sam, and know he was safe and secure. It was important.
Dean also needed to learn that Daddy knows best, and ultimately, that Daddy’s word was final. Surprisingly, Sam wasn’t imagining too much trouble. For most of his life Dean had obeyed John. Sam was now slipping into that position. This time though, it would be filled with love and affection. Sam’s heart broke a little, thinking of that little Dean.
Sam eyed Dean’s meal. It had congealed rather unappealingly. Health. That was another thing Sam would focus on. His Deanie was going to be the happiest, healthiest – and cutest - baby ever.
Right now his Deanie looked rather uncomfortable. He was still waiting on an answer, Sam realised with a start. He asked a question and you’re already fucking up, he berated himself. He grabbed Dean’s water and took a sip. Just calm down, slow down. New dad’s make mistakes all the time. There is nothing wrong with you.
Clearing his throat, Sam put down the glass of water, and leaned across the table, grabbing one of Dean’s hands.
Dean looked shocked.
“Uh. Sammy? Why are you holding my hand?”
Sam figured he’d answer that question first. Remember to be immediate. “Because I know you’re still worried I’ll leave. That I’m mad at you and hiding it. But you’re wrong. It’s the total it’s the total opposite, really. I’m not mad at you. And I’m here for the long haul. I’ll never leave you again, Dean,” Sam finished intensely.
Looking even more uncomfortable, Dean attempted to regain his hand. Sam simply tightened his grip. Daddy’s rule. Daddy decides when the baby gets his space.
Sam let the silence run for a few seconds, before giving Dean’s hand a gentle squeeze, and settling back against his seat. “And no. I’m not going to ask what’s wrong. I have a pretty good idea, but I think it’s going to be a long conversation. Which makes it a good conversation to have in the morning. We’ll get to the new place, we’ll get settled in, and we’ll talk about how things are going to change.”
It was probably fortunate the waitress turned up at that point. Dean looked ready to argue, and this just wasn’t the place.
“Anything else I can get you boys?”
To Sam’s immense satisfaction she looked straight at Sam. Dean frowned, but answered politely enough. “I ordered pie. Can I get coffee with that?”
The waitress tilted he head at Sam. He thought about it. Dean wouldn’t be having coffee for a very long time. “Just a small cup, Dean. You need sleep and the caffeine won’t help.”
It was true, he reasoned with himself. It wasn’t the main reason, but that didn’t make him it a lie.
Dean made a face, but he didn’t argue. Sam just smiled serenely.
--
Dean has done his usual trick of leaving when Sam paid. That wasn’t going to happen anymore. It wasn’t safe for a little kid to go wandering off alone. At least he hadn’t gone far.
in face, he was leaning against the driver side door. Hearing his brother approach, he hauled himself upright, holding out his hands. Sam just looked at, eyebrow raised.
“Keys, bitch.”
Sam didn’t bother hiding the smirk. “I don’t think so, Dean.” Dean looked ready to argue, so Sam steamrollered over him. “We’ve already discussed this. And you agreed,” he added pointedly. “You almost crashed the car, you still haven’t had enough sleep, you barely touched dinner – which, by the way was pretty much guaranteed to give you indigestion. Plus you don’t know where we’re going.”
Sam had held out a hand, and though he may have glowered, he handed the keys over easily enough. Grabbing Dean’s shoulder, Sam marched him round to the passenger side. “So sit. This is your seat.” Sam paused, eyeing his brother. “Unless you want to sit in the back?”
That snapped Dean, who had been looking somewhat mutinous, out of his stupor. “What the fuck, Sammy? In the back? Kids and angels sit in the back.”
Sam ignored Dean’s look as he opened the door, shutting it gently after him. Once Sam was buckled in Dean added with an eyebrow wiggle, “Well it’s sometimes adults in the back.”
Chuckling to himself he turned his back on Sam, settling into the corner.
He didn’t even react when Sam played some light music – designed to help babies sleep without sounding like it was made for babies. Sam couldn’t help the little thrill that shot through his body. Soon he’d have his baby at home, where he could look after him properly. He couldn’t wait!
It wasn’t long until Sam realised why Dean had been so accommodating. Not even fifteen minutes on the road and Dean was asleep, complete with soft little snores.
Sam was delighted. It gave him time to think.
--
They made excellent time. It was before 11 when Sam pulled into their driveway. As he turned off the engine, he glanced at Dean. A soft smile lit his face. Still sleeping like a baby.
Sam took a deep breath, and then it hit him: they were here. They were home. Not only did they have a driveway, they had a whole fucking house! Getting out of the car, Sam leant on the car and just looked at the house, taking it all in. Not that he could see much in the dark.
But it was welcoming, and that light in the lounge room window...
Fuck. That was a light! Why was there a light on?
Sam dithered by the car– he needed to check this out. He couldn't take Deanie in if there was danger. But at the same time he couldn't leave him in the car by himself. He'd never been in this position before...
Before he could come to a decision, his phone beeped before he had to make a decision
There was a message from Bobby.
Those idjits just told me they left a welcome light on. Damn fools. House is airtight. Take your boy inside. Welcome home. Sam.
--
part 1 | part 2
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I have had trouble figuring out how to proceed with this one, but I hope a breakthrough comes soon!