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quixotism2009-09-02 11:32 am
bromantic.livejournal.com) wrote in quixotism2009-09-02 11:32 am
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[fanfic] [supernatural] the many birthdays of sam winchester
When Sam Winchester was one year old, Dean stole a pacifier for his birthday.
He kept crying every night and Dean didn’t know what else to do and hey, it worked on those commercials right? So on Sam’s birthday, he slipped the pacifier in his mouth and watched quietly as Sam gurgled silently and his eyes began to soften.
Pacifiers, Dean decided, are the best invention ever.
-XX-
When Sam Winchester was four years old, Dean got him a baseball cap.
Sam gave him a look and said, “What’s this for?”
Dean shrugged, “Dad got it. Happy birthday Sammy.”
Sam’s eyes widened and he took it with incredulous hands, “Dad did? Really?”
“’Course he did. Like he’d forget your birthday.”
Dean knew Dad had in fact forgotten, but like hell he was going to divulge that to Sam.
“It’s great,” Sam said finally and looked at Dean, “Did you get me anything?”
Dean found he had no idea how to reply.
-XX-
When Sam Winchester was seven years old, Dean had no idea what to get him.
He was entering what he coined as the “bookish geek phase”, a phase Dean avoided all his life unless it was necessary or there was Latin involved. They had transferred to a new school and Sam was settling in well enough (with Dean’s help, of course. Sam didn’t need to know why those bullies changed tactics) and finally, Dean gave up and went to the library.
The librarian looked at him as he was a new specimen of gum stuck under her chair. He squirmed under her gaze.
“I need a book,” he said.
“This is the library,” the librarian said tartly.
“N-No, not like that,” Dean swallowed, “It’s for my--,” he paused, “—my sister. She’s a big reader and I was wondering if you had anything to give away for her birthday.”
It sounded like a sob story, he knew that, but old ladies ate sob stories like magic and sure enough her eyes began to glitter and her face relaxed into a warm smile.
“Let me see what I can dig up,” She said sweetly.
That evening, he went home with the copy of The Last Unicorn and said Dad picked it up from a second hand store and even though Sam gave him a dubious look, he took the book (and even gave Dean a hug for some weird reason. Maybe Sam was catching on) and immediately started to read it while Dean switched on the TV.
It was not even close to perfect but Dean believed it to be.
-XX-
When Sam Winchester was fifteen, his birthday took place during a prom.
It was really sheer coincidence and since Dad was still out of town, Dean thought it would be funny to drag Sam along and gatecrash one of the high school proms. And Sam continued to give him glares as they entered the stadium but Dean didn’t really care. He just shoved Sam inside and watched him get chatted up by some hot girls while he raided the snack table.
Only much later, he spotted Sam at the balcony, looking like he was about to puke his stomach out and he laughed at him.
“Not funny, Dean,” Sam said.
Dean rubbed his back, “Happy birthday Sammy.”
“Shut up.”
-XX-
When Sam Winchester got too old for birthdays and the world, the carefully crafted world Dean had made for him began to fray, all that mattered was having their car and driving to the next hunt with a rock song in their heads and the burn of rubber.
It was one of those mornings when Dean realized that it was Sam’s birthday and he really didn’t have time to get him anything and his own time was running out every day.
Sam stirred from the seat and Dean casually said, “Hey, Sam. What do you want to do?”
Sam wasn’t fully awake but he could see his eyes harden, sharp and cutting angles all over Sam’s body, solid like a fighter. Sam wet his lips as the sleep drained away and he said calmly, like death warmed over, “What do you think? We still have to find a way to break the contract.”
There was a long silence between them.
Dean replied, “Whatever you want, Sam.”
And that too, was a present.
He kept crying every night and Dean didn’t know what else to do and hey, it worked on those commercials right? So on Sam’s birthday, he slipped the pacifier in his mouth and watched quietly as Sam gurgled silently and his eyes began to soften.
Pacifiers, Dean decided, are the best invention ever.
-XX-
When Sam Winchester was four years old, Dean got him a baseball cap.
Sam gave him a look and said, “What’s this for?”
Dean shrugged, “Dad got it. Happy birthday Sammy.”
Sam’s eyes widened and he took it with incredulous hands, “Dad did? Really?”
“’Course he did. Like he’d forget your birthday.”
Dean knew Dad had in fact forgotten, but like hell he was going to divulge that to Sam.
“It’s great,” Sam said finally and looked at Dean, “Did you get me anything?”
Dean found he had no idea how to reply.
-XX-
When Sam Winchester was seven years old, Dean had no idea what to get him.
He was entering what he coined as the “bookish geek phase”, a phase Dean avoided all his life unless it was necessary or there was Latin involved. They had transferred to a new school and Sam was settling in well enough (with Dean’s help, of course. Sam didn’t need to know why those bullies changed tactics) and finally, Dean gave up and went to the library.
The librarian looked at him as he was a new specimen of gum stuck under her chair. He squirmed under her gaze.
“I need a book,” he said.
“This is the library,” the librarian said tartly.
“N-No, not like that,” Dean swallowed, “It’s for my--,” he paused, “—my sister. She’s a big reader and I was wondering if you had anything to give away for her birthday.”
It sounded like a sob story, he knew that, but old ladies ate sob stories like magic and sure enough her eyes began to glitter and her face relaxed into a warm smile.
“Let me see what I can dig up,” She said sweetly.
That evening, he went home with the copy of The Last Unicorn and said Dad picked it up from a second hand store and even though Sam gave him a dubious look, he took the book (and even gave Dean a hug for some weird reason. Maybe Sam was catching on) and immediately started to read it while Dean switched on the TV.
It was not even close to perfect but Dean believed it to be.
-XX-
When Sam Winchester was fifteen, his birthday took place during a prom.
It was really sheer coincidence and since Dad was still out of town, Dean thought it would be funny to drag Sam along and gatecrash one of the high school proms. And Sam continued to give him glares as they entered the stadium but Dean didn’t really care. He just shoved Sam inside and watched him get chatted up by some hot girls while he raided the snack table.
Only much later, he spotted Sam at the balcony, looking like he was about to puke his stomach out and he laughed at him.
“Not funny, Dean,” Sam said.
Dean rubbed his back, “Happy birthday Sammy.”
“Shut up.”
-XX-
When Sam Winchester got too old for birthdays and the world, the carefully crafted world Dean had made for him began to fray, all that mattered was having their car and driving to the next hunt with a rock song in their heads and the burn of rubber.
It was one of those mornings when Dean realized that it was Sam’s birthday and he really didn’t have time to get him anything and his own time was running out every day.
Sam stirred from the seat and Dean casually said, “Hey, Sam. What do you want to do?”
Sam wasn’t fully awake but he could see his eyes harden, sharp and cutting angles all over Sam’s body, solid like a fighter. Sam wet his lips as the sleep drained away and he said calmly, like death warmed over, “What do you think? We still have to find a way to break the contract.”
There was a long silence between them.
Dean replied, “Whatever you want, Sam.”
And that too, was a present.