Title - That's Not How
Author - ICantBelieveImNotButter
Category - WeeWinchester
Spoilers - None
Rating - PG
Setting - Pre-Series
Summary - Eight-year-old Dean has to look after four-year-old Sammy by himself for the first time.
Characters - WeeDean, WeeSammy, John Winchester
Notes - This idea is taken from an episode of the cartoon "Jakers! The Adventures of Piggly Winks." Something made me remember the episode and it just screamed Wee Winchesters to me. I know that it would be more than likely that Sam liked Dean more than his father, but for this story to work, Sammy has to like their father more. Also I'm sorry about the Battleship game but I really couldn't think of anything else. I think it still works though.
Disclaimer - I don't own anything.
Feedback - I would really love feed-back. Ifr you like it or don't, I just love hearing people's thoughts.
Thank you to Zulma for taking the time to fix my many mistakes, and for giving me some great tips.
"Do I have to?" Dean whined.
John turned and looked down at his oldest son. Dean was usually good at following orders, but today he was being difficult. They were staying in a small motel room and John was packing a bag, getting ready for a hunt. He had gotten a tip about a demon that was just out of town and John didn't want to put Dean and Sammy anywhere near it so he had asked Dean to stay inside and watch Sammy.
"Dean, I'm asking you to watch your brother, OK?" John asked.
Dean turned around and looked at Sammy, who was playing with toy trucks. Dean then looked back up at his father.
"OK, Daddy."
"Good boy," John said, ruffling Dean's hair.
Dean's face scrunched up as he tried to duck away from his father's hand.
"Dad!"
John laughed. "Sorry Dean."
John picked up his bag and flung it over his shoulder. He walked over and kissed Sammy's cheek goodbye before going back to place a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder.
"Keep this door and all the windows locked at all times," John said as Dean stood in front of the door. "Don't go outside and if you get into trouble you call me or you call Pastor Jim. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Dean replied.
John nodded and then walked out the door.
Dean sighed and turned to look at Sammy, who was now looking at him.
"Where'd Daddy go?" Sammy asked.
"Hunting."
"What's he hunting?"
"I don't know," Dean snapped. "Just play with your trucks."
"When is Daddy gonna be back?"
"When he gets back."
"Dean?" Sammy asked, with trepidation.
"What, Sammy?"
"I'm hungry. Can I have a sandwich?" Sammy asked.
"Right now?" Dean groaned in exasperation.
"Please, Dean?"
"Fine."
Dean went and pulled out a chair for Sammy to sit, Sammy got up and ran happily over to the table. He sat down, swung his legs, and grinned at Dean. Dean opened the tiny fridge and took out the ingredients to make a sandwich. He placed everything on the table, got a knife, and then started making Sammy a sandwich.
Dean had decided to make Sammy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
"You're gonna like this, Sammy," Dean said proudly, as he grabbed two slices of bread. "This is the Dean special."
Knife in hand, Dean spread peanut butter in the middle of one slice and then spread jelly around the edge. He mixed the two in together slightly but left it so that the peanut butter was left in the middle and the jelly around the side. Then he did the same with the other slice, except with jelly in the middle and peanut butter on the side. Dean grinned at his work and then slapped the two pieces of bread together. He cut it into four small triangels, put it onto a plate, and set it in front of Sammy.
Sammy looked down at the plate and frowned.
"What is it, Sammy?"
Sammy looked up at Dean, back at the plate, and then shook his head.
"That's not how Daddy makes it," Sammy said.
"No, it's the Dean special. It's how I make it. Just eat it, OK?"
"I don't want to!" Sammy complained. "When's Daddy coming back?"
"Later. Look, if you're hungry, eat the sandwich."
"Will you make it how Daddy does?"
"There's nothing wrong with that sandwich, so just eat it!" Dean said, frustrated.
Sammy shook his head and slid off his chair. Dean growled something under his breath and started making Sammy a sandwich the way their father would make it, leaving the other sandwich for himself. He placed the new sandwich on a plate and brought it to Sammy, who had climbed up into one of the small arm-chairs.
"Here," Dean muttered, as he shoved the plate in front of Sammy.
Sammy smiled and happily accepted his new sandwich. He munched on it with a grin on his face.
"Chanks, 'Ean" Sammy said, with a mouthful of sandwich.
"Don't talk with your mouth full."
Sammy closed his mouth and nodded.
After finishing his sandwich (and after Dean had finished his), Sammy decided that he wanted his big brother to read to him. Dean was sitting in a chair watching a cartoon, and when Sammy stood up and entered the bedroom, Dean watched him until he came back into the room. Sammy held out a book.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Read to me" Sammy said, handing Dean a book
"No. Sit down and watch T.V."
Sammy pouted. Dean sighed and snatched the book from his brother.
"Fine." Dean mumbled. "Come here."
Sammy grinned and climbed up beside Dean. Dean opened the book. It was a baby book that Sammy had gotten for his birthday last year. Dean found it terribly boring as it was about five pages and a bunch of pictures.
"Do I have to read this?" Dean asked. "Wouldn't you rather me read my book about dragons?"
"No, I like this book."
Dean sighed and started to read about the cat and dog. After the first few pages of having to stop and show Sammy the pictures and having to 'get the voices right,' Dean got fed up. He shut the book suddenly and startled Sammy.
"How 'bout we play a game. Would you like that?" Dean asked.
He hoped that Sammy would want to play because Dean couldn't stand this book anymore.
"OK, Dean," Sammy smiled.
Dean grinned and put the book down. Then he jumped off the chair and waited for Sammy to crawl off as well.
"What are we gonna play, Dean?" Sammy asked.
"Um..." Dean thought. "Let's play Battleship."
"What's that?"
"Remember that weird game that Pastor Jim gave us?" Dean asked, as he moved over to one of the many bags that they had.
Sammy nodded his head vigorously. Dean pulled the small portable game and set it up in the middle of the floor. He waited for Sammy to sit on one side before he began to explain the rules.
"All right, Sammy, see these tiny ships?" Dean held up the ships for Sammy. "Now, make sure you don't put them in your mouth."
Sammy looked confused for a moment, so Dean just continued.
"Place them anywhere you want on the board in front of you, but don't tell me where you put them. OK?"
Sammy nodded.
"And then you have to guess where I put my ships by calling out a letter and a number. Like...E-7." Dean explained. "Which will be on the top graft and if I say, 'Hit,' you have to put a red pin there. If I say, 'Miss,' you put a white pin. If you use a red pin keep it and then use the spot close to it. You have to guess where my ships are and every time you hit them, you destroy them."
"I don't wanna destroy your ships," Sammy pouted.
"They're not real ships, Sammy." Dean was becoming annoyed. "And that's the point of the game. If you sink a whole ship of mine, I have to say, 'You Sunk My Battleship' and you have to say it if I sink your ship. Got it?"
Sammy nodded, but Dean could tell by the look on his face that he didn't really understand the game. Still, they started playing. They had been playing for a while and it took Sammy a while to get the hang of the letters and numbers, but he was smart so he picked it up quickly.
"A-2," Sammy said.
"Hit." Dean frowned.
"I win!" Sammy said, with obvious pride.
"No, you don't. You haven't sunk one whole ship yet and I've sunk three of yours. So I'm winning."
"No, I win, Dean. See? I have a red pin. You have to say, 'I sunked your ship'" Sammy whined.
Dean rolled his eyes. "It's 'You sunk my Battleship' and you haven't yet. Look, Sammy, if you're not going to play right, then we'll just stop."
"But I won!" Sammy protested.
"That's it" Dean said angrily as he took the game away. "We'll play something else."
Sammy looked like he was about to cry. He pouted and looked at Dean.
"Come on, Sammy, we'll play a better game. OK?" Dean said, realizing he was being too harsh.
Dean didn't want to deal with a tearful Sammy. It wasn't that he couldn't deal with Sammy crying. It was just that he wasn't in the mood. Dean would have preferred if he could watch TV in peace.
"OK, Dean."
After putting the game away, Dean decided that they could have fun by jumping over the furniture to avoid the pretend crocodiles swimming on the floor. Oh, a kid's imagination was a wonderful thing. Dean explained this to Sammy and showed him how to jump from one sofa to one of the chairs without touching the floor.
"All right, Sammy, it's your turn," Dean called out.
Sammy smiled and walked over to Dean.
"Sam!" Dean yelled. "You can't just walk across."
"Why?"
" 'Cause you just got eaten by crocodiles, that's why."
Sammy suddenly looked fearful and tears sprung to his eyes.
"I don't want to be eated," Sammy cried.
Suddenly, Sammy started wailing. Dean panicked and climbed off the chair. He tried to comfort his brother, but Sammy wasn't listening.
Suddenly, the front door opened. Dean quickly pushed Sammy behind him, but just sighed when he saw his father.
"What's going on?" John asked, frowning at Sammy, who was still crying.
"Daddy!" Sammy cried and ran past Dean. He clung to his father's leg. "Dean got me eated by crocodiles!"
"Dean." John turned to his eldest son with a stern look on his face.
"They weren't real crocodiles, Dad," Dean explained "He wasn't really being eaten"
"And-and he tried to sink my ship!" Sammy whined.
"We were playing Battleship" Dean looked up at John. "That's how you play."
John sighed and shook his head. He bent down and pulled Sammy up to grab him by the shoulders.
"Sammy, why don't you go and watch TV while I talk to Dean outside." John said.
Sammy sniffled and nodded his head slowly. Then he hurried off. John turned to Dean, who seemed annoyed and confused.
"You can't be mad at me, Dad" Dean began to protest. "I didn't do anything."
"I know, Dean."
John opened the door and held it open for Dean to walk outside. John followed.
"Dean, when I asked you to watch yout brother, I meant that you should keep and eye on him and play with him," John said.
"I was playing with him."
"You can't just beat him in a game of Battleship, son"
"Sure you can, Dad. It's real easy. He's not that good," Dean said, with pride in his voice.
"Dean." John sighed. "Sammy's younger than you. He can't do all the things that you can yet. He doesn't understand half the things that you do, either. He needs you to teach him. And if you tell him that there are crocodiles on the floor, then he will believe you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Dean shook his head.
"All right, son. Just think about what I've said. You'll understand it soon. I know you will." John glanced at Dean as he opened the door to go back inside the motel room.
"Did you get the demon, Dad?"
"No, I didn't," John replied. "I need one of my books so I'm just going to grab it and head back out. Same rules still apply, Dean. Be safe and watch out for your brother."
Dean nodded and watched as John said goodbye to Sammy. Then John grabbed what he needed and said goodbye to Dean before leaving again. Once John was gone, Dean walked over to Sammy.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, softly.
Sammy shrugged and continued watching television. Dean sat down next to him on the sofa and they watched TV until it got dark outside. Then Dean made Sammy spaghetti just like John would and then got Sammy ready for bed.
"Do I hafta go to sleep, Dean?"
"No, not yet. We can play a game for an hour."
"What game?" Sammy asked, his eyes widening. "Don't let the crocodiles come back!"
"Don't worry, I won't."
Dean looked around and noticed one of their father's torches. Then he got an idea. He grinned and looked at Sammy.
"Wanna see something cool, Sammy?" Dean asked.
Sammy nodded.
Dean told Sammy to sit in the living room. Then Dean went about grabbing items that he would need. He took the torch, two chairs from the kitchen and a sheet from the bed. He placed the chairs on either side and threw the sheet over them. This his him from Sammy's view, but left a big enough gap so Dean could see the wall. Dean turned all the main lights off, leaving the bedroom light and few lamps on because Sammy was scared of the dark. Dean then turned the torch on and climbed under the sheet.
"Ready, Sammy?"
"Ready."
Dean started making different shapes with his hands, casting shadows on the wall. Sammy looked at the shadows in wonder as Dean explained each shape of his hands.
"Look, Sammy, this is a spider!"
"I don't like spiders, Dean," Sammy cried "Make it go away!"
Dean laughed as he moved his hands and created another shape.
"OK, here's a swan."
Sammy smiled and walked over to the wall. He liked the swan, but when he reached out to touch it, he only seemed to be able to touch the wall. He frowned and then walked over to Dean. He poked his head in under the sheet and looked at his brother.
"Where's the swan?" Sammy asked.
"Huh?"
"The swan. Where is it?" Sammy asked again. "I want to play with it."
"It's not real, Sammy. I don't really have a swan." Dean tried to explain.
"Yes, you do," Sammy said, with conviction. "Here swan, here swan, here swan!"
Dean shook his head and crawled out from under the sheet. He frowned at his little brother, who was still searching for the made-up bird.
"Sammy, there is no swan."
"There is so, Dean!" Sammy suddenly started to cry again. "You don't want me to play with the swan, do you, Dean?"
"Sammy..."
Sammy suddenly ran into the bedroom, crying.
Dean shook his head and sighed. He had no idea what Sammy's problem was. As Dean started to clean up, his father's words rang in his ears. He finally understood what his father meant.
Sammy was younger than he was so Dean couldn't play the same games that he would play with his friends or with his dad. And Dean understood now that Sammy was still learning some things and that Dean needed to be patient with him. Dean smiled as he walked into the bedroom.
Sammy was curled up on the bed, with his face buried in a pillow.
"Sammy," Dean said, gently.
Sammy didn't reply, only buried his face deeper into the pillow.
"You really think I have a swan, don't you?" Dean asked, placing a hand on Sammy's shoulder.
Sammy rolled over and looked at Dean with bright large eyes.
"I saw it, Dean."
Dean smiled and sat on the bed beside Sammy.
"That was just a shadow I made with my hands," Dean explained. He made the shape again and showed Sammy. "See?"
Sammy sniffed and looked at Dean.
"R-really?"
"Yeah. See, there wasn't really any swan. It's just something you can do in the dark with a bit of light. OK?"
"Um, OK, Dean." Sammy smiled.
"Good. Now, come on. I can show you how to make your own swan and spider if you like."
"I don't want my own spider, Dean."
Dean only laughed.
As the night dragged on, Dean taught Sammy how to make different shadow puppets. Both boys were having a lot of fun, with Sammy giggling as Dean tickled him. When Sammy started yawning, Dean sent him to bed. After cleaning up the motel room, Dean put on his own pajamas and climbed into bed beside Sammy.
John Winchester didn't arrive back from his hunt until 1 a.m. He let himself into the motel as quietly as he could so that he wouldn't wake his boys. But he didn't expect to see Sammy in the bathroom.
"Daddy!" Sammy called out happily when he saw his father.
"Shh!" John whispered, thinking that Dean might still be asleep.
"Daddy," Sammy whispered.
John held his arms out for Sammy. Sammy ran into his arms and hugged him briefly.
"Daddy, Daddy Dean showed me how to make a swan! See?"
Sammy made his hands into a shape and the held them up. But there was no light to cast a shadow so there was nothing for John to see. Sammy frowned and looked upset.
"Oh, no," Sammy said in a panic. "I did it wrong."
Before John could explain the importance of having light to make a shadow, Sammy yelled out for Dean.
"Dean! Dean, my swan is broke!"
John could hear Dean move around in the bedroom. Then Dean poked his head out the doorway and blinked a few times.
"What?" He asked, his voice still deep from sleep.
"My swan won't work," Sammy replied, and held his hands up for Dean to see.
Dean and John shared a look before they both sighed.
The next day, John was writing in his journal while Dean played with Sammy. When it turned noon, John decided that it was time for lunch. He called the boys into the kitchen and sat them down at the table.
"Right. Boys, what would you like for lunch?"
Before Dean could answer, Sammy replied, "Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches."
John smiled and started to make a sandwich for Sammy while Dean made himself and John some noodles. After making Sammy's sandwich, John placed it in front of Sammy. But Sammy would not it it, and only frowned at it.
"What is it, Sammy?" John asked, concerened.
Sammy shook his head.
"That's not how Dean makes it."
THE END