The Kid, Part 19 - Supernatural, PG-13

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: The Kid Part 19 ( All of The Kid can be found Here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, John, mention of Missouri, Castieli
Rating: PG
Genre: GEN (did you even know I could GEN?)
Word Count: 2423
Summary: Dean is 19, Sam is 14. John is 8. Dean is trying to deal with the eruption of Sam's gifts along with Sam's teenage emotional wreckage, John's curiosity and the sudden influx of an angel into the chaotic mess of their lives.

A/Ns & Warnings: Um. This is at least partially varkelton's fault. De-aging fic.


Pretty art provided by fallen_for_lost






Dean Winchester felt a hell of a lot older than nineteen as he sat in his car, staring at the church. Maybe it was the way he was essentially the father of a nearly fifteen year old and an eight year old. Maybe it was the burden of knowledge his father left him with, or the weight of Sam's gifts or who knew what.

"Dad?"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, John?"

"Is Missouri right about Sam?"

"In what way?"

John climbed up to lean over the seat. "She thinks Sam should want the dreams and stuff, says they come from God."

"I don't know John. Maybe."

"His always seem so scary."

Dean nodded at that. John saw all manner of things, from ghosts to the gifts of others, emotions and only some of it scared him. Sam on the other hand…the visions that came during the day were vicious, knocking him over with images of death and gore and pain. "I know buddy. We're hoping this helps him get a few that aren't so scary."

Sam was inside the church with Missouri, learning how to control his gifts or find out what the demon actually did to him when he was a baby…or something.

He'd been quiet since the vision that had sent Dean and Missouri scurrying to the school to check on John and the state of any new teachers. It ended up being something they had to wait on. The guy didn't show up for almost a week…and when he did, Dean and Pastor Jim had exorcised the demon before he could lay a hand on a single kid.

Sam was still insisting that he didn't want to control the gift, he just wanted it gone, but he was humoring Dean for the moment, and working with Missouri every other day.

"Why would God give Sammy scary ones and me sparkly ones?" John asked. "Is it cause Sammy's so much bigger and he doesn't get scared?"

Dean smiled at him. "Oh Sam gets plenty scared. That's why he wants them to go away."

"Maybe if he could see the sparkly things more he wouldn't want them to go away."

Dean was watching the church door, so he was surprised when he suddenly noticed a man in a long trench coat standing beside them. "Sparkly like what John?" Dean asked as he leaned forward, squinting at the man, trying to decide if he was a threat and how to handle it if he was.

"Like the man by the church. He's so sparkly he's white."

Dean looked at John, then back at the man. "White?"

John nodded. "He's like the opposite of the black-inside people."

"I want you to wait in the car."

"Are you going to meet him? I want to meet him. I've never met a white-inside person before."

"John." Dean wasn't fast enough, John was out of the car and racing toward the church. "Fuck." He climbed out of the car and jogged after John and up the steps.

"Dad, this is Castiel….Castiel, this is my dad, Dean." John grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him closer. "He's an angel."

"Right. An angel." Dean licked his lips and looked the guy up and down. "Why don't you run inside and see if Sam's ready."

John pouted at him. "I want to talk to Castiel. He's really sparkly and white and he can fly. You can fly, right? I mean, that's how I see you in my head. With great big wings and a sword."

Castiel ruffled John's hair. "Run along. We'll have plenty of time to talk."

"No offense, dude, but who are you. Really?" Dean asked as John ran for the doors.

"I might ask you the same thing, Dean. You are not his father."

Fear flushed through him and Castiel held up a hand. "You need not fear me. I am an angel of the Lord, sent to help your brother on his journey."

Dean snorted. "Seriously, that the best you've got? I mean…I've seen a lot of things. A lot of things. But angels are new to me."

"Is it so easy to believe in demons, but not angels?"

Dean shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Demons I've seen. Angels? Not so much."

"And yet, here I am."

"Here you are. What exactly is it that you want?"

"It isn't about what I want, Dean, it is about what the Lord commands."

"Right. Because that's what's important." He moved around the whack job in the trench coat for the doors. "Look, whoever you are, I ain't buying what you're selling so—"

The door opened, John pulling Sam out through the door. "See Sam? See?"

Sam's eyes skipped disdainfully over Castiel, then up to Dean. "What is he doing here?"

Sam's face was pale, his eyes sunken with dark circles from lack of sleep. "What? You know him?"

Sam grimaced and shook his head. "No, not really. Remember I told you there was a whack job? Dean, Whack Job. Whack Job, my brother Dean."

"I have told you my name is Castiel."

"Whatever. Are we done here? I'm hungry." Sam turned and headed for the car, dismissing Castiel as if he weren't even there.

"You should not ignore me, Samuel."

Sam stopped dead in his tracks half way to the car and turned back. "It's Sam. And I'm hungry and I'm tired and I have hours of homework to do, not to mention I was supposed be spending tonight with Matt and some friends. If you've got something to say, Angel boy, I'm all ears."

Castiel seemed dumbfounded by Sam's outburst, his mouth closing as he thought about a response.

"Too late. Dean, lets go." Sam was in the car, door shut. Just like that.

"John, get in the car." Dean turned back to the so-called angel. "Sorry, guess he doesn't believe you either."

"Believe me or not, Dean, he needs to hear the truth. He needs to know that he can not relinquish his gifts."

Dean has gotten past the point of being surprised anymore and doesn't bat an eye that this stranger knows that much about Sam. "Yeah, well…not that it's any of your business, but he's not relinquishing anything just yet."

"Then why does he still collect the things he needs for the ceremony? Why does he already have a place picked out, the ground hallowed?" Castiel leaned in to Dean's space, his voice lowered. "Terrible, evil things will happen, and your brother might never come back from the places such actions will take him. Be warned, Dean Winchester."

Dean stepped back. "Yeah, okay then. Consider me warned."

He heaved a heavy sigh when he got the car door closed behind him. "Do you want to tell me what in the hell that was about?"

The anger drained off Sam's face as John leaned over the seat and waved at Castiel who was still watching them. "What? You wouldn't have believed me."

"But you should have told me. We promised, remember? No more secrets. I can't help you if you don't tell me everything."

"You can't help me anyway, Dean." Sam said bitterly. "No one can. Not Pastor Jim, not Missouri. I'm fucked. Should just take me out and put me down."

Dean closed his eyes, the pain of Sam's misery almost more than he could handle. "Sam, don't say that. We'll get through this."

"No Dean. You will. John probably will. I don't think I can."

John's small hand was on Sam's shoulder. "You can Sammy. Because we're going to help you. Right Dad?"

Dean started the car and headed home. He didn't know what to say to Sam, didn't know how to make it better. Wasn't even really sure Sam wasn't right.



Dinner was quiet and Sam withdrew before he'd done much more than pick at his food, disappearing behind his bedroom door with the excuse that he had homework to finish.

Dean helped John with his homework, got him bathed and into his jimmies and tucked him into bed with a story.

"You're worried about Sam." John said quietly as Dean put the book away.

"I worry because that's my job." Dean said, coming back to sit on the bed. "You don't need to worry."

"He's right sometimes. It isn't fair. Sometimes I see what he sees, and it's ugly…and it's frightening and he's all alone."

Dean shook his head. "He isn't alone, he's got us."

"No. That isn't what I mean. In the place in his dreams, he's all alone. But sometimes what he sees isn't real." His face pinched up and he looked like he was trying to find the words to explain what he meant. "The future stuff moves around, it changes all the time. But his doesn't."

"What do you mean?"

John bit his lip for a minute. "Well, 'member Sam saw a black-inside man at my school, hurting kids…but you found him and made it so he didn't hurt anyone?"

Dean nodded, pulling the blankets up around John.

"Sam saw the first time and it was bad. The second time, when the man was actually there, he saw the black leave him. It changed."

"Because Pastor Jim and I were there to exorcise the demon."

John nodded. "But Sam saw the black leave him the day before you did it."

Dean frowned. "He never told me."

John looked down at his hands. "He doesn't tell you a lot of things. He worries about you too."

"He does? Why does Sam worry about me?"

"He thinks you work too hard, and that you try too much to be like your Dad…but he doesn't want you to be his dad, he just wants you to be his brother."

"Anything else you want to tell me before I tuck you in?" Dean asked, rising.

"Don't tell Sam I told you. He'll be angry."

Dean kissed his forehead and helped him move so that he was laying down under the covers. "Don't worry, Kid. I got your back."



Sam's light was still on. Dean knocked, but when Sam didn't answer, he opened the door anyway. Sam was asleep amidst piles of books on the bed, propped up against pillows. Dean moved quietly into the room, shifting books to the desk slowly. He eased the book out of Sam's hand and set it aside, then pulled the extra blanket off the end of the bed, settling it over his brother.

He turned off the bedside light, but couldn't bring himself to leave the room. He sank down onto the bed, watching Sam sleep. So much had happened in the last year that Dean sometimes forgot that Sam wasn't even fifteen yet, but looking at him Dean could see it…so young and it really wasn't fair. None of this was.

Sam whimpered, his head tossing, his hand clenching into a fist. "No…no…get away…" Sam flailed in his sleep, his arms lifting to push something away.

Dean reached for him, catching a hand. Sam seemed to quiet, though not completely still. "Dean…Dean….don't leave me Dean." Sam's voice was plaintive, desperate.

Dean blinked at the tears, shaking his head as he laid down next to Sam, pulling him tight against his body. "Never Sammy. Never letting you go."



Dean woke stiff and sore and feeling very out of place. It took him a moment to realize he was still in Sam's bed. Sam was sleeping beside him and the dark told him it was still night.

Slowly, he extricated himself from Sam and the blanket and eased himself out of the room. He checked on John who was curled up around Mr. Turtle and sound asleep, then took himself to the kitchen. It was almost 2 in the morning, but he wasn't ready to try sleeping again. His dreams had been filled with a hopeless landscape where he couldn't find Sam or John, where he was alone.

He pulled a beer out of the fridge and cracked it open, leaning on the counter. Maybe Sam was right in this whole mess…just get rid of the damn gifts, live a normal life…hope for the best.

Thunder cracked outside the window and Dean jumped. He jumped a second time when he realized there was someone leaning against the counter beside him. "Hello Dean."

"Holy Fucking Hell." Dean dropped his beer, backpedaling away from the angel.

"Did I startle you?"

"You could say that." Dean pulled in a deep breath and wiped a hand over his face. "What is it you want?"

"Your brother is heading down a dangerous path."

"Yeah, well I'm starting to side with him. This thing is eating him alive."

Dean squatted down to pick up the pieces of glass. "Seriously, have you seen him? He hardly sleeps, he barely eats. At least my father's plan gets him a good night's sleep."

"Your father did not see all the possible outcomes of his plan, Dean."

"My father never did. That never stopped him before."

"It did this time."

Dean stopped and looked up at Castiel. "What? Are you telling me that you did this to him?"

Castiel sort of shrugged, an eyebrow raised. "No, I did not. I merely arranged for him and the creature who did do this to be in the same place at the same time."

"Why?" Dean stood, throwing his shards of glass into the trash. "What possible reason does turning him into a kid again serve? What grand plan?"

"Your father was in the way, Dean. He was going to get hurt. Now he has an opportunity to live a life differently."

"And what about what that does to me and Sam? Huh?" Dean wanted to punch the self-righteous son-of-a-bitch. "Sam is just a kid. Just a kid. This is too much to ask of him." He squatted by the beer puddle with a towel, soaking up the liquid and using the towel to pick up the small pieces of glass. "Too much to ask of me."

He stood, dumping the whole mess into the sink. "So maybe you should go back to wherever the fuck you came from and think about that. Maybe you should stop fucking around in people's lives like they're goddamn toys. I'm nobody's fucking plaything and I'm done being bullied and pushed and afraid. So get the fuck out of my house."

Castiel stood there, arms crossed, bemused look on his face.

"Now!" Dean screamed, eyes closing. When he opened them again, the angel was gone. Somehow it didn't make him feel any safer.