[identity profile] acidquill.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] verse17_17
title: little drops of water
author: [livejournal.com profile] acidquill
disclaimer: don’t own em.
rating: g
characters: Sam, Dean, brief appearance of John.
word count: 666. no, really.
notes: wee!boys. Ahem, and may have been influenced by my recent desire to reread Little Men.

When Dean was six, Sam taught him to swim.

The motel had a pool and Dad had said he was old enough to look out for his little brother. Dad had even left Sam with Dean for a day or two a month or two ago while he went to take care of a poltergeist. When Sam asked if he could take Dean out and show him, Dad nodded.

"Wouldn’t hurt him to learn," Dad said. He was bent over the table in the corner, oiling and sharpening the knives. "Good thinking, Sammy. You can never tell when a hunt might involve water, and he needs to be prepared for when he’s older."

Sam secretly hoped Dean would never have to use the lessons for anything but what they were intended for: fun. It did weird things to his stomach when he thought about Dean growing up. Learning the stuff he was starting to learn now - how to shoot, and read Latin, and the best way to repel ghosts.

It didn’t seem right.

Dad must have noticed something was wrong. He reached out and ruffled Sam’s hair. "Hey bud, at least it’ll give him something to do."

He didn’t know how to tell Dad that wasn’t the problem, but he smiled a little anyway. The older Dean got, the harder it got to keep him entertained. It’s not guaranteed that Sam could keep him happy in the backseat or the motel room with crayons or stories anymore.


Dean stared hard at the long stretch of perfectly blue water.

Sam tried to hold his hand and lead him down the steps that disappeared into the shallow end, but Dean shook him off and stood at the edge. His toes curled around the cement lip of pool. Sam pushed off from the bottom step and flipped onto his back to float.

"Come on, dude. This is fun. Promise."

He craned his neck to see if Dean was following, but his brother hadn’t moved. Hadn’t even stepped into the water yet. Sam let himself sink and waded back to the edge of the pool.

Dean stood there in his cut-off shorts and looked at Sam like he’d grown another head.

"Sammy," Dean whispered.

"What’s wrong? I thought you wanted me to show you how to float and doggy paddle and stuff."

"I’m." Dean’s fingers twisted in frayed threads at his knees. His voice was so quiet Sam could barely hear him. "The water. It’s deep."

Sam climbed out and sat beside his brother. He pulled Dean down beside him. Sam wasn’t used to Dean being afraid; his little brother’s six, but sometimes Dean acts like he’s not scared of anything.

"I know it looks scary, but it’s really fun. I won’t let anything happen to you dude, I swear."


"Daddy!" Dean screeched happily. He jumped off Sam’s shoulders and started across the pool in his own version of swimming, a kind of frog kick that at least got him to where he wanted to go.

Sam wiped the water out of his eyes and looked towards his brother. Dean had made it to the other side of the pool and was trying to climb out without using the steps. Dad was leaning against the other side of the pool fence. Dean finally levered himself out of the water and ran up to the fence. He climbed up the chain link until he was face to face with their father.

"Dad! Daddy! Did you see? Sammy taught me how to do that! I can swim!"

"Hey there, kiddo." Dad hauled an enthusiastic Dean over the top of the fence and settled him on his hip, wet clothes and all. He glanced over at Sam. "How you boys doing?"

"Good sir." Sam answered. He smiled when his Dad grinned back at him.

"About ready to come in then? We’re going out for pizza. I think we need to celebrate Deano’s first day as a real swimmer, don’t you Sammy?"


- end

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October 2009


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