Log in


riotact in delicatehatred

New SPN fic

Title: Noisy Breakfast
Author: riotact
Pairing.Characters: Wee!chesters and Papa bear.
Rating: G
Word Count: 677
Summary: Dean wants to make his daddy happy so he tries to make him breakfast.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I own nothing. I merely play with them.
Spoilers: In My Time Of Dyeing, I guess.
Notes: Wee!Chesters. Done for the flashback_fic23 challenge at sn_flashback. Table With Prompts (Prompt: Sound.) Beta'd by feelslike_2day

Dean’s tiny face is contorted in concentration, he’s trying his best not to spill anything on the floor. He wants everything to be just right for his daddy. Sammy is sitting on the floor, banging a wooden spoon against pots and pans grinning widely at the new sounds he’s making.

“Sammy. Be quiet, you’ll wake up Daddy.” Dean says, pulling the spoon out of Sammy’s chubby little hands. Sammy sits, his eyes wide and his lips trembling, the smile long since gone from his face. His shaggy little head is turned down in a wounded puppy sort of way.

Dean doesn’t notice Sam’s attempt to get what he wants with his little looks and mannerisms. Sam has figured out how to look in order to get what he wants out of his dad, but these type of things do not work on Dean.

Dean goes back to the counter, he steps up on the stool and puts two slices of bread in the toaster and waits patiently for them to pop back up. Before he has a chance to smear butter on them, Sam has finally broken and starts screaming and crying. His small face screwed up in anger, crying tears that aren’t real.

“Sammy! Shh!” Dean tries his hardest to get Sammy to stop crying but it appears the young boy will only stop if he gets the spoon back.

John jerks awake, he’s had the nightmare again, but this time it wasn’t the nightmare that woke him, but the piercing scream of his youngest son. It takes him a moment to process the scream, is he hurt or just throwing a tantrum? That’s when it hits him, he doesn’t know the difference between his sons cries.

Jumping out of bed he runs down the short hallway and into the small kitchen where the noise is coming from. Sammy is sitting on the floor amidst pots and pans and Dean is covering his ears, on the verge of tears. There’s orange juice all over the floor, along with cereal and the toaster is smoking.

Dean begins to cry, having seen his dad he collapses in a tiny heap on the dirty linoleum floor and sobs uncontrollably. John smiles wistfully, He made me breakfast.

“Dean? What’s wrong, son?” he asks him, picking up a screaming Sammy and hugging him. Dean doesn’t reply but only cries harder. Sammy’s chubby, slobbery hand is making a grasping movement to a wooden spoon on the floor near Dean.

John sits down near his sobbing son and places Sammy beside him, who stops crying and grabs the spoon from Deans side. John rubs Deans back in soothing circles until Dean has finally calmed down enough to sit up and hug his father.

“What is it, Dean?”

Dean mumbles small, barely audible words. “I want to sup-purise you. But Sammy ruined it,” he starts sobbing again. “I just want to make you happy again!”

The words hit John like a blow to the stomach, his chest constricts and tears well in his eyes, blurring his vision so that Sammy and Dean are smudges of coloured pyjama’s and tan skin.

“Oh, Dean. I am happy. It’s just hard.” he manages, tears sliding down his face.

“What’s hard, Daddy?” Dean asks, wide-eyed and innocent tears still sparkling in his eyes.

John doesn’t answer, but pulls both his boys into a tight embrace and holds them there until they begin to squirm.

“So, shall we clean this up and have breakfast?” he asks Dean, who nods sadly.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” Dean says quietly.

“For what?”

“For making Sammy cry and waking you up.”

John smiles at his son, ruffles his dark blonde hair and says. “It’s alright, Dean. I’d much rather wake up to you guys any day.”

Dean never really understood what his father meant by that, even as he got older he could never forget those words, could never get them out of his head, never figure out why his father had said them and what they meant. Guess he’ll never find out now.


Comments are goodness and sunshine.

Cross-posted at: spn_brotherlove, sn_flashback, wincest_free


I don't like Supernatural *ducks* but I do love your stories :)
You are of the crazy. XD

Thank you, miss Valerie.
I try :)
Aw, That was so cute! I loved it. :-)
Thank you. :D
awww, that was cute and sad, really good.
Haha, thanks. :) I didn't mean for it to be sad. But Papa Winchesters death was such a blow. I loved him like no other.
Same, definitely:D
I am not a huge John fan but this was so cute!
Yay, thank you! I love John, I don't know why.
Awww so cute *sobs* I love your naughty baby sammy. Hee!!!
I love writing Sammy as a baby. So cute, I can picture him in my head clearly.