Fic: Conduct Unbecoming
Sep. 3rd, 2009 03:43 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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spn_summergenTitle: Conduct Unbecoming
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gayeld
Recipient:avon_09
Rating: PG
Warnings: No warnings given by author.
Summary: A Something Wicked tag based on the prompt “Pre-series story about Dean trying to run away and being stopped by Sam.”
The wooden floor was cold and hard beneath his knees as Dean crept silently forward to the edge of the stairwell and peered down. He could just make out the gentle rise and fall of Pastor Jim’s voice from the floor below.
"Are you sure it's gone?"
Dean’s stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. The monster dad was after had gotten away and more kids were going to get hurt, little ones, like Sammy, who couldn’t take care of themselves.
He knew it was all his fault. If he’d just followed dad’s orders, had stayed with Sammy like he was supposed to, none of this would have happened.
“I’m sorry, John, I know how much you wanted this one. What about the children who were still hospitalized?”
He heard soft swearing from below and knew what meant. They were dead, same as Sammy would have been if Dad hadn’t got back in time. Dead because Dean had wanted to play a stupid video game instead of doing his job and taking care of his little brother.
Lost in his own guilty thoughts, Dean didn’t hear Pastor Jim climb the stairs and jumped when a hand landed softly on his shoulder.
“Dean? Son, what are you doing here?”
“Nothing. I was just—“
“Listening to my conversation with your father?” Jim smiled sadly and reached out a hand to help Dean up off the floor. “It’s not a sin to be curious, Dean, but you should be in bed now.”
“It got away, didn’t it?” Dean asked hesitantly. “Because of me.”
“No Dean, not because of you.” Jim dropped a hand onto Dean’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Shtrigas aren’t like the ghosts and other creatures your father normally hunts. They’re just as clever as any human, just as cunning, and there’s every chance it would have escaped whether or not your father had had to leave town so suddenly.”
“Every chance doesn’t mean it would have.” Dean took a deep breath and tried to blink away the tears that stung his eyes. “If I hadn’t messed up and left Sammy alone, none of this would have—“
“Dean, you don’t know that.” Jim gave Dean a gentle shake. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Dad hates me. I almost got Sammy killed and now he hates me.” The tears he’d tried so hard to stop dripped down his face. “And those other kids died and—“
“Stop it, Dean.” Jim crouched down in front of him. “Your father doesn’t hate you. He could never hate you. He’s just upset and disappointed. Once he gets back the two of you will have a chance to talk this out and you’ll see, your father still loves you deeply, Dean. He always will.”
Dean wiped angrily at his face and pulled away. “I have to go back to bed. I can’t leave Sammy alone.” He slipped back into the bedroom he was sharing with Sam, ignoring the heavy sigh that came from the hallway behind him.
---
Dean lay awake in the big bed that he shared with Sammy, listening to the sound of his little brother breathing next to him, his stomach twisting painfully at the thought of facing his father again.
It didn’t matter what Pastor Jim said, it was his job to comfort people, even when they’d done horrible things, and Dean knew the truth. The monster had gotten away because he’d screwed up and he was the one who had to fix it. He had to find the Shrtiga and kill it.
He slipped quietly out of the bed, careful not to wake Sammy up, and reached underneath to grab his dufflebag.
He didn’t know how long it would take to get back to Fort Douglas or how long he would be gone, but couldn’t take much, just what he could carry.
Pastor Jim had made him leave his shotgun locked up downstairs, but he still had his knife and the box of salt his father made him carry with him everywhere.
A pair of jeans and two worn shirts followed the weapons into the bag and then he was ready to go.
With a glance at Sammy, who’s face was scrunched in sleep, Dean eased the window quietly up and dropped his duffle to the ground below. Careful to avoid the thin row of salt lining the sill, Dean swung his leg out and ducked under the window.
“NO!”
“Sammy?” Dean darted back into the room and had barely perched on the edge of the bed before Sammy shot up and grabbed him around the middle, holding on tightly. “Sammy, what’s wrong?”
“There was a monster!” Sam cried, clinging even tighter as Dean’s heart seemed to sink down into his stomach.
“What--“ Dean swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “What monster, Sammy?”
“It was big and black and it ate you all up.”
Sammy’s fingernails dug into Dean’s back as he tried to pull Sam away. “It what?”
“It ate you.” Sammy sobbed into his shoulder.
“Sammy, it’s all right, it was just a nightmare. It was just a—”
“No, it wasn’t—”
“Boys!” Pastor Jim burst into the bedroom, startling them both and making Sammy cling even tighter. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Sammy just had a nightmare.”
“No, I didn’t!” Sammy protested, peeking wide-eyed over Dean’s shoulder at the shotgun in Pastor Jim’s hands. “There was a monster and it ate Dean and he doesn’t believe me and I don’t want him to go and—”
“Samuel, son, stop. Take a deep breath and calm down.” Jim gently ruffled Sammy’s hair. “Everything is fine. You can see that Dean’s right here and he’s safe.”
“But he wasn’t! He was gone away and the monster got him and—” Sammy smeared his running nose against Dean’s shoulder and turned his face into Dean’s neck. “I don’t want you to go! Don’t go!”
Dean looked up at Pastor Jim and shrugged helplessly as he patted Sammy awkwardly on the back. “I’m not going nowhere, Sammy.”
“Promise?” Sammy’s breath was warm, his voice growing sleep, as he tried to burrow in even closer to Dean.
“I promise. I promise, I won’t ever leave you, Sammy.”
“I don’t ever want no monster to eat you up.” Sammy yawned, his grip growing slack.
“It’s okay, I won’t let any monster get either of us.” Dean lowered Sammy to the pillows as carefully as he could before looking back at Jim. “Sammy just gets nightmares sometimes. He’ll be okay now.”
“I’m sure he will be.” Jim stepped over to the open window and closed it gently, a strange look on his face.” Dean, where do you think Sammy would get the idea that you’d leave him?”
“I don’t know.” Dean’s voice grew soft and he couldn’t look at Pastor Jim.
The soft hand in his hair surprised him and Dean looked up to see Jim smiling at him sadly. “It’s getting late, Dean, let’s all get some sleep. I’m sure this will all look better in the morning.”
Dean curled up in the big bed next to Sammy, letting his little brother’s warm slowly lull him to sleep.
---
Author:
gayeldRecipient:
avon_09 Rating: PG
Warnings: No warnings given by author.
Summary: A Something Wicked tag based on the prompt “Pre-series story about Dean trying to run away and being stopped by Sam.”
The wooden floor was cold and hard beneath his knees as Dean crept silently forward to the edge of the stairwell and peered down. He could just make out the gentle rise and fall of Pastor Jim’s voice from the floor below.
"Are you sure it's gone?"
Dean’s stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. The monster dad was after had gotten away and more kids were going to get hurt, little ones, like Sammy, who couldn’t take care of themselves.
He knew it was all his fault. If he’d just followed dad’s orders, had stayed with Sammy like he was supposed to, none of this would have happened.
“I’m sorry, John, I know how much you wanted this one. What about the children who were still hospitalized?”
He heard soft swearing from below and knew what meant. They were dead, same as Sammy would have been if Dad hadn’t got back in time. Dead because Dean had wanted to play a stupid video game instead of doing his job and taking care of his little brother.
Lost in his own guilty thoughts, Dean didn’t hear Pastor Jim climb the stairs and jumped when a hand landed softly on his shoulder.
“Dean? Son, what are you doing here?”
“Nothing. I was just—“
“Listening to my conversation with your father?” Jim smiled sadly and reached out a hand to help Dean up off the floor. “It’s not a sin to be curious, Dean, but you should be in bed now.”
“It got away, didn’t it?” Dean asked hesitantly. “Because of me.”
“No Dean, not because of you.” Jim dropped a hand onto Dean’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Shtrigas aren’t like the ghosts and other creatures your father normally hunts. They’re just as clever as any human, just as cunning, and there’s every chance it would have escaped whether or not your father had had to leave town so suddenly.”
“Every chance doesn’t mean it would have.” Dean took a deep breath and tried to blink away the tears that stung his eyes. “If I hadn’t messed up and left Sammy alone, none of this would have—“
“Dean, you don’t know that.” Jim gave Dean a gentle shake. “This isn’t your fault.”
“Dad hates me. I almost got Sammy killed and now he hates me.” The tears he’d tried so hard to stop dripped down his face. “And those other kids died and—“
“Stop it, Dean.” Jim crouched down in front of him. “Your father doesn’t hate you. He could never hate you. He’s just upset and disappointed. Once he gets back the two of you will have a chance to talk this out and you’ll see, your father still loves you deeply, Dean. He always will.”
Dean wiped angrily at his face and pulled away. “I have to go back to bed. I can’t leave Sammy alone.” He slipped back into the bedroom he was sharing with Sam, ignoring the heavy sigh that came from the hallway behind him.
Dean lay awake in the big bed that he shared with Sammy, listening to the sound of his little brother breathing next to him, his stomach twisting painfully at the thought of facing his father again.
It didn’t matter what Pastor Jim said, it was his job to comfort people, even when they’d done horrible things, and Dean knew the truth. The monster had gotten away because he’d screwed up and he was the one who had to fix it. He had to find the Shrtiga and kill it.
He slipped quietly out of the bed, careful not to wake Sammy up, and reached underneath to grab his dufflebag.
He didn’t know how long it would take to get back to Fort Douglas or how long he would be gone, but couldn’t take much, just what he could carry.
Pastor Jim had made him leave his shotgun locked up downstairs, but he still had his knife and the box of salt his father made him carry with him everywhere.
A pair of jeans and two worn shirts followed the weapons into the bag and then he was ready to go.
With a glance at Sammy, who’s face was scrunched in sleep, Dean eased the window quietly up and dropped his duffle to the ground below. Careful to avoid the thin row of salt lining the sill, Dean swung his leg out and ducked under the window.
“NO!”
“Sammy?” Dean darted back into the room and had barely perched on the edge of the bed before Sammy shot up and grabbed him around the middle, holding on tightly. “Sammy, what’s wrong?”
“There was a monster!” Sam cried, clinging even tighter as Dean’s heart seemed to sink down into his stomach.
“What--“ Dean swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “What monster, Sammy?”
“It was big and black and it ate you all up.”
Sammy’s fingernails dug into Dean’s back as he tried to pull Sam away. “It what?”
“It ate you.” Sammy sobbed into his shoulder.
“Sammy, it’s all right, it was just a nightmare. It was just a—”
“No, it wasn’t—”
“Boys!” Pastor Jim burst into the bedroom, startling them both and making Sammy cling even tighter. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Sammy just had a nightmare.”
“No, I didn’t!” Sammy protested, peeking wide-eyed over Dean’s shoulder at the shotgun in Pastor Jim’s hands. “There was a monster and it ate Dean and he doesn’t believe me and I don’t want him to go and—”
“Samuel, son, stop. Take a deep breath and calm down.” Jim gently ruffled Sammy’s hair. “Everything is fine. You can see that Dean’s right here and he’s safe.”
“But he wasn’t! He was gone away and the monster got him and—” Sammy smeared his running nose against Dean’s shoulder and turned his face into Dean’s neck. “I don’t want you to go! Don’t go!”
Dean looked up at Pastor Jim and shrugged helplessly as he patted Sammy awkwardly on the back. “I’m not going nowhere, Sammy.”
“Promise?” Sammy’s breath was warm, his voice growing sleep, as he tried to burrow in even closer to Dean.
“I promise. I promise, I won’t ever leave you, Sammy.”
“I don’t ever want no monster to eat you up.” Sammy yawned, his grip growing slack.
“It’s okay, I won’t let any monster get either of us.” Dean lowered Sammy to the pillows as carefully as he could before looking back at Jim. “Sammy just gets nightmares sometimes. He’ll be okay now.”
“I’m sure he will be.” Jim stepped over to the open window and closed it gently, a strange look on his face.” Dean, where do you think Sammy would get the idea that you’d leave him?”
“I don’t know.” Dean’s voice grew soft and he couldn’t look at Pastor Jim.
The soft hand in his hair surprised him and Dean looked up to see Jim smiling at him sadly. “It’s getting late, Dean, let’s all get some sleep. I’m sure this will all look better in the morning.”
Dean curled up in the big bed next to Sammy, letting his little brother’s warm slowly lull him to sleep.
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