Title: Stiffen Up That Upper Lip
Disclaimer: If I owned anything, I probably wouldn’t be here writing about them.
Summary: An insight into five year old Dean’s perspective.
A/N: Heads up, this is the mindset of a five year old so I took some liberties with the grammar.
Inspired by my friend sleeponrooftops
Sammy’s too little to play with cars, he’ll just drool on them and make them all wet. But he’s grabby, so I keep my cars far enough away from his fat baby arms. Sammy’s not very fun yet, he can’t walk good, he can’t talk good but everyone always wants to hold him instead of me. Everyone talks to Sammy in a soft, happy voice like Mommy did.
“Balls!” Uncle Bobby exclaims in the other room, Sammy giggles.
“He’s not talking to you, Sammy.” I tell him. Sammy ignores me and I frown. Sammy never listens to me, never does what I say. I’m the big kid, I’m the big brother but he doesn’t listen to me. He reaches over towards my cars, leaning on his chubby knees.
“No, Sammy!” I cry out, scooping my toys into my arms and crawling onto the couch out of his reach. Sammy can’t climb yet like I can because I’m the big kid. Climbing is just for me, not him.
Sammy frowns and his face gets red. Uh oh. He’s going to cry and I’m going to get in trouble. Sammy starts to whimper so I slide off of the couch to be next to him. I sigh and let him hold the red car that I don’t like so much.
“Don’t drool on my car.” I tell him, resting my back against the green couch. Sammy squeals in delight and immediately stoves the front of the car in his little mouth, slobbering all over the red plastic.
“Uncle Bobby! Sammy’s eating my toys!” I cry out, grabbing the car from Sammy’s soggy lips. I jump up and run away to save my other car from the same wet fate. Over my shoulder, Sammy scrambles onto his chubby little legs to run after me. Not my toys. These are my toys. Sammy has his own baby toys, go drool on baby toys, Sammy. I laugh because Sammy isn’t as fast as I am. He isn’t a big kid like I am and he isn’t fast and I’m running around so fast I think my legs are going to fall off! My cars will never be slobbery again!
And then behind me I hear a thud, I stop and look around. Sammy’s lying on his belly, his face is red, his face is red. Sammy’s crying, wailing at the top of his lungs. Oh no. Sammy fell down, Sammy got hurt. I’m going to get in trouble. Sammy’s my job. I take care of Sammy because I’m the big brother. What do I do? Get Uncle Bobby. Uncle Bobby will help. No, Uncle Bobby will see Sammy’s hurt and it’s my fault and I’ll be in trouble because Sammy’s my job. Blood. Sammy’s lip is bleeding. Blood like when I fell down and scraped my knee, blood like the dead dog in the street, Sammy’s going to die!
I want to cry. I want to cry like Sammy. Oh no, what will happen when Dad finds out. What do I do? Sammy won’t stop crying. Sammy’s hurt. And then Uncle Bobby’s there asking what I did to him. Uncle Bobby scoops Sammy up into his arms and holds him close. I want Uncle Bobby to hold me but I know no one’s going to scoop me up because I’m in trouble.
“What happened, Dean?” Uncle Bobby repeats, looking down at me.
“Sammy fell,” I mutter, looking down at the rug, “Chasing me. He was chewing my cars.”
Sammy’s face is still wet, if Uncle Bobby picked me up I wouldn’t cry. But Sammy does, because he’s a stupid baby.
And then I hear Dad’s big boots are coming down the hall, and then there’s Dad’s big dark jacket in the doorway. I’m in trouble. Dad see’s Sammy’s red face, Dad knows. He walks past me to take Sammy from Uncle Bobby’s arms.
“Had a tumble,” Uncle Bobby says lightly, shrugging his shoulders. I try not to look guilty but Dad knows. He knows I wasn’t looking after Sammy, “Bit his lip, first Winchester scar.”
He looks down at me and says, “You need to watch out for your brother, Dean. That’s your job."
“Dean,” Sammy chirps, nuzzling into Dad’s leather jacket. I want to snuggle in Dad’s arms, but I know I don’t get to, because I’m the big brother.
“Go get your things, Dean.” Dad says, turning away from me. If he’d look at me I’d tell him how sorry I was, how I didn’t mean to make Sammy fall down. But he was looking at Sammy now, examining his cut lip.
“Why don’t you just leave them with me, John?” Uncle Bobby says as I go look for my backpack, “You don’t need to take them everywhere. It’s not good for them.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“They shouldn’t be growing up in crap hotels. Dean needs to start school.”
“Don’t tell me how to raise my boys, Bobby.” Dad’s voice is angry, I can’t find my bag, it’s time to go and I can’t find my bag. Maybe Dad will let me stay here if I can’t find my bag, “Come on, Dean, it’s time to go.”
Uncle Bobby touches my head and says, “You take care of your brother, you hear? You pick him up when he falls down.”
I want to stay at Uncle Bobby’s big house with all the books and good things to eat. I don’t like the diner food Dad gets, I want to stay here at Uncle Bobby’s. But it’s time to go, I have to take care of Sammy for Dad, because Mommy’s gone and I’m the big brother.
- Current Location:The Pit
- Current Mood: optimistic