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Part of my universe where Ryan is the youngest of the THREE Winchester brothers. Instead of Mary dying when Sammy was 6 months old, it was when Ryan was 6 months old. This one takes place when they are all kids, and focuses on Bobby's first meeting with the three Wee!Chesters.
It's cracky and... despite John being hurt, it's humorous...
Bobby first met John Winchester at the Roadhouse, and a few months later he met the boys when he and John's paths crossed on a hunt and he had to take an banged up John back to the hotel room the family was staying in. 8 year-old Sam had just stared, frightened by the blood and scratches, but 12 year-old Dean had poked his head out of the bathroom, sworn under his breath, and brought the well stocked first aid kit out. 4 year-old Ryan, hair wet and wearing a worn pair of pajamas, had hovered in the doorway, biting his lip as he watched.
"Wendigo got him, but he'll live," Bobby said.
"You that Singer guy?" Dean asked.
"Sure am," Bobby agreed. "Dean, Sam, and Ryan, right?" he asked, nodding at each boy in turn.
"Sammy, get Ryan tucked in, okay?" Dean said.
"I wanna stay up with daddy," Sam whined, even though he hadn't moved from his seat on the bed across the room.
Bobby felt something brush against his arm and looked down to see Ryan had come over and grasped John's sleeve in one tiny hand. "Daddy?" Ryan whispered.
John cracked his eyes opened and smiled softly, something Bobby wouldn't have thought the man was capable of. "Hey, kiddo," John said in a voice that didn't sound remotely tired or weak from bloodloss. "You been good for your brothers tonight?"
Ryan nodded. "Gonna be okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, buddy, I'll be okay," John said. "Dean take care of your brothers, Bobby'll patch me up."
Dean hesitated a moment, then nodded, getting up and taking Ryan's hand. "Come on, Ry. If you go to bed now, I'll take you with me to get breakfast for Dad, and give you half the credit," he said, lifting Ryan up onto the bed Sam was still sitting crosslegged on. "And we'll con the waitress down the street into giving you free chocolate chip pancakes, a double stack, and we won't give Sammy any."
"No fair!" Sam protested.
"I'll share," Ryan said quickly as Dean tucked him into bed. "Don't be mean, Dean."
"Ha! That rhymes, Mean Dean," Sam said, sticking his tongue out at Dean.
"Oh shut your pie hole," Dean muttered, smiling as Sam got under the covers beside Ryan and the smallest Winchest curled up against him. "I'm gonna check on dad again, then I'll be right back, okay?" Dean said.
"Better, Sammy kicks," Ryan mumbled sleepily.
Dean grinned and stuck his tongue out at the sulking Sam then turning to go back to John and Bobby. "He'll really be okay?" Dean asked as he hunkered down beside the chair his dad was slumped in.
"Sore for a while, but I'll live," John assured him. "Go make sure Sammy doesn't knock Ryan out of bed again, little guy doesn't need any more bruises."
"You got it, dad," Dean said, getting up again.
The End
Sammy's kinda whiny in this, huh? lol... I don't know why exactly, but I see him being whiny!
It's cracky and... despite John being hurt, it's humorous...
Bobby first met John Winchester at the Roadhouse, and a few months later he met the boys when he and John's paths crossed on a hunt and he had to take an banged up John back to the hotel room the family was staying in. 8 year-old Sam had just stared, frightened by the blood and scratches, but 12 year-old Dean had poked his head out of the bathroom, sworn under his breath, and brought the well stocked first aid kit out. 4 year-old Ryan, hair wet and wearing a worn pair of pajamas, had hovered in the doorway, biting his lip as he watched.
"Wendigo got him, but he'll live," Bobby said.
"You that Singer guy?" Dean asked.
"Sure am," Bobby agreed. "Dean, Sam, and Ryan, right?" he asked, nodding at each boy in turn.
"Sammy, get Ryan tucked in, okay?" Dean said.
"I wanna stay up with daddy," Sam whined, even though he hadn't moved from his seat on the bed across the room.
Bobby felt something brush against his arm and looked down to see Ryan had come over and grasped John's sleeve in one tiny hand. "Daddy?" Ryan whispered.
John cracked his eyes opened and smiled softly, something Bobby wouldn't have thought the man was capable of. "Hey, kiddo," John said in a voice that didn't sound remotely tired or weak from bloodloss. "You been good for your brothers tonight?"
Ryan nodded. "Gonna be okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, buddy, I'll be okay," John said. "Dean take care of your brothers, Bobby'll patch me up."
Dean hesitated a moment, then nodded, getting up and taking Ryan's hand. "Come on, Ry. If you go to bed now, I'll take you with me to get breakfast for Dad, and give you half the credit," he said, lifting Ryan up onto the bed Sam was still sitting crosslegged on. "And we'll con the waitress down the street into giving you free chocolate chip pancakes, a double stack, and we won't give Sammy any."
"No fair!" Sam protested.
"I'll share," Ryan said quickly as Dean tucked him into bed. "Don't be mean, Dean."
"Ha! That rhymes, Mean Dean," Sam said, sticking his tongue out at Dean.
"Oh shut your pie hole," Dean muttered, smiling as Sam got under the covers beside Ryan and the smallest Winchest curled up against him. "I'm gonna check on dad again, then I'll be right back, okay?" Dean said.
"Better, Sammy kicks," Ryan mumbled sleepily.
Dean grinned and stuck his tongue out at the sulking Sam then turning to go back to John and Bobby. "He'll really be okay?" Dean asked as he hunkered down beside the chair his dad was slumped in.
"Sore for a while, but I'll live," John assured him. "Go make sure Sammy doesn't knock Ryan out of bed again, little guy doesn't need any more bruises."
"You got it, dad," Dean said, getting up again.
The End
Sammy's kinda whiny in this, huh? lol... I don't know why exactly, but I see him being whiny!
