(no subject)
Title: Found
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFC in the form of a cute little girl who is not Lilith, okay?
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,681
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: For woman_of_ as a part of this week's exchange for spn_buddy. But... obviously, others are more than welcome to take a peek for themselves. I rather enjoy this one.
Seeing someone cry always made Sam uncomfortable. He’d cringe at the sight of another’s tears and send up silent prayers to anyone who might be listening to make it stop, to ease the pain that he could not. And he could assume, standing here at the corner of Main and Pine in another one of the countless small towns he and Dean had been through in the last two years, that crying made everyone uncomfortable. There was no other way for him to account for being the only person milling about at 3:24 in the afternoon who noticed the little girl. He blinked and hoped in vain that she’d disappear, but she remained by a bench at a memorial for one of the town’s fallen heroes in the Revolutionary War. She couldn’t have been three; unsteady in tiny white sneakers, one fist balled around a fuzzy rabbit, and the other pressed against flushed cheeks as she cried out for her mother.
Who just left a helpless child alone anywhere? Even despite it being broad daylight, a weekday afternoon, and in a town seemingly surrounded by friendly faces? And, moreover, who could simply stand by and watch? Sam checked his watch; Dean would be back soon. For as often as Sam teased that he had the mental capacity of a three-year-old, he knew his brother could take care of himself. If he was no longer in the place they’d agreed upon to meet up again, Dean would only have to look across the street.
Sam crouched in front of the little girl and tried to ignore the hesitation in his arms as they stretched towards her, in spite of the space he left between them. “Hey, hey,” he hushed, “you’re okay.”
Cheeks wet and stained with tears, the girl was quiet, staring up at him with eyes wide, green and deep as pools. Christ, he thought. He had to be scarier than being separated from her mother, towering over her even though he’d tried his best to lower himself to her height. Like a lion and a mouse.
“Are you looking for your mom?” She nodded and wiped at her eyes with the bunny that, he hoped, had once been stuffed to the seams. He straightened a bit and glanced to his left, then the right, itching to find a frenzied woman tearing through the street, trying desperately to find her daughter.
When he saw nothing but the town’s citizens taking leisurely strolls or wandering in and out of the doors of the shops that lined the street, he turned back to her and smiled. “My name is Sam. What’s yours?”
“Avery,” she sniffled.
“That’s a pretty name.” He pointed to the floppy animal hanging from one hand, “And who is this?”
Avery brought the toy to her chest and hugged it tight, “Bunny.”
He tried not to laugh. He’d only assumed that all children assigned a special name to the stuffed animal they slept with at night. Then again, Sam couldn’t remember having such a keepsake as a child. A .45 wasn’t nearly as cuddly.
“Okay, Avery, how about you and I sit right here on this bench and wait for your mom?”
Wherever she was, Sam knew she couldn’t have gone very far. Better to stay in one place and let her find them on her second or third pass down this street than lead her in circles. If Avery’s mother was looking.
He had little experience with three-year-olds-or anyone born after the turn of the century, for that matter-- but she seemed to be of the more agreeable variety. Her eyes were still damp with tears and she wiped at her nose every few seconds, but she allowed him to easily lift her off her feet and settle her next him on the bench. Sam had enough trouble trying to come up with inane conversation to pass the time with strangers his own age, how was he supposed to avoid an awkward silence with a little girl whose most pressing issue on any given day was the pink or purple ribbon to put in her hair? Today, he noticed, was neither. At one point, the green barrette with three butterflies lined up in a row had kept a section of her hair tucked neatly away from her face and now it seemed to struggle on its hold of the loose, wispy brown curls in the breeze.
“Bunny is cold.”
Sam only nodded at her, taking this as fact and hoping the best for the rabbit until she offered it to him by one arm. Not wanting to offend her-or see her cry again, he took the toy and held it momentarily in both hands, staring down at the lone plastic eye and the worn patches in its fur. Only children, he thought, had the innate ability and pure innocence to find contentment and comfort in the simplest things. The friendly face of a stuffed animal or tucked inside of a warm pair of arms. After all, Bunny was cold-Avery had told him as much-so Sam slid him right inside of his jacket, leaving the bunny’s head to poke out between the zipper. “Think he’ll be okay like this?”
Avery grinned wide enough to show all of her tiny teeth and nodded, sliding across the aluminum of the bench until Sam was within reach. She patted one small hand against his arm, “He’s happy now.”
And Sam was too, if only because he managed to distract the girl enough that she didn’t seem so distraught over still being separated from her mother, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it would last.
“Sam?” Dean appeared in front of them, two unwrapped cheeseburgers settled inside of a basket of fries in one hand and brow knit in confusion. He pointed to the girl, “You, uh, got somethin’ to tell me? Like the bunny, too.”
He looked at Avery almost with a sense of surprise, as if the last five minutes had sprung up on him unexpectedly. And then he shook his head, tongue clicking behind his teeth in vague irritation, “Shut up. And no. She got separated from her mom somehow.” He shrugged, “I’m waiting here with her until she comes back.”
Earlier today, Dean harped on Sam about keeping a tight schedule for this case-all so they could just get it over with and move on to the next town, but judging by the lunch in hand and no apparent indication that Avery was a hitch in their plans; Dean joined them on the bench.
“Better if she was a dog.”
“Dean.”
“What?” He lifted his arms in defense, “How awesome would that be? You know, we could be like B.J. and the Bear.”
“Who was a chimpanzee. Not a dog. Or a bear.”
He shook his head, “Never did figure that one out.” Dean settled the basket of fries on his lap and offered one of the burgers to Sam over Avery’s head, “Here. I’da picked up something for the kid, too, but…” he stopped short and turned his gaze down to her, “You like French fries?”
Avery studied Dean for a moment and then took as many of the thinly cut potatoes as she could fit inside her tiny palm. He grinned, “’Atta girl.”
A whole new crop of fears wrestled in Sam’s mind as he watched her gum the fries one by one. Peanut allergies, grease stains on her pink fleece sweatpants, high cholesterol. He shook them from his mind then, figuring his concentration would be better spent on unwrapping the cheeseburger in his hand. “Hey Dean,” he looked to his brother, “Ever think about having kids?”
Dean didn’t miss a beat. “Hell no. I mean, not that I don’t think having a smaller, more compact me running around would be awesome, but I’m not tryin’ to screw up some kid’s life by, you know, default.” He turned a wary gaze onto Sam, “Why? See baby-snatching in your near future?”
Sam hoped that, despite Avery’s unfortunate-and temporary, God willing-circumstance of being separated from her mother today, that home was her safe harbor. Something he never had.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I’ve thought-“
“Oh my God. Oh my God.”
Sam looked up, quickly searching out the voice that broke through their conversation. He never thought he’d be so relieved to hear panic. A woman, one he could only assume was Avery’s mother, came rushing towards them, arms outstretched to the little girl he and his brother flanked. Had it not been for the red cheeks, the tears still trailing over the apples of them and the wide green eyes he’d seen in Avery, Sam would have thought she was just one more of the well-dressed women out and about today.
She swept Avery from the bench, clutching her hard to her chest, “Don’t you ever to that to me again, baby. Do you hear me?” Whatever scolding she meant to pass onto her daughter never slid past the utter relief he heard in her voice in having her back in her arms.
Finally noticing Sam and Dean, her eyes narrowed in brief suspicion, but it was immediately clear to her that her daughter had not a scratch on her and the only thing these two men could possibly be accused of was eating the slop that came from the diner down the block.
“Thank you so much. I was at the bank and she just-“
Sam held up his hand, stopping her, “Don’t worry about it. It was no trouble at all.”
“Oh, but I feel so horrible. If there’s anything I can do…”
“No, no,” he shook his head and turned a smile on Avery, pulling Bunny from his jacket, “All you have to do is keep him safe and warm, okay?”
Avery took the toy into her grasp and tucked him under her chin as she nodded her promise. The smile on her mother’s face told Sam she would do the same for her little girl.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFC in the form of a cute little girl who is not Lilith, okay?
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,681
Spoilers: None
Author's Note: For woman_of_ as a part of this week's exchange for spn_buddy. But... obviously, others are more than welcome to take a peek for themselves. I rather enjoy this one.
Seeing someone cry always made Sam uncomfortable. He’d cringe at the sight of another’s tears and send up silent prayers to anyone who might be listening to make it stop, to ease the pain that he could not. And he could assume, standing here at the corner of Main and Pine in another one of the countless small towns he and Dean had been through in the last two years, that crying made everyone uncomfortable. There was no other way for him to account for being the only person milling about at 3:24 in the afternoon who noticed the little girl. He blinked and hoped in vain that she’d disappear, but she remained by a bench at a memorial for one of the town’s fallen heroes in the Revolutionary War. She couldn’t have been three; unsteady in tiny white sneakers, one fist balled around a fuzzy rabbit, and the other pressed against flushed cheeks as she cried out for her mother.
Who just left a helpless child alone anywhere? Even despite it being broad daylight, a weekday afternoon, and in a town seemingly surrounded by friendly faces? And, moreover, who could simply stand by and watch? Sam checked his watch; Dean would be back soon. For as often as Sam teased that he had the mental capacity of a three-year-old, he knew his brother could take care of himself. If he was no longer in the place they’d agreed upon to meet up again, Dean would only have to look across the street.
Sam crouched in front of the little girl and tried to ignore the hesitation in his arms as they stretched towards her, in spite of the space he left between them. “Hey, hey,” he hushed, “you’re okay.”
Cheeks wet and stained with tears, the girl was quiet, staring up at him with eyes wide, green and deep as pools. Christ, he thought. He had to be scarier than being separated from her mother, towering over her even though he’d tried his best to lower himself to her height. Like a lion and a mouse.
“Are you looking for your mom?” She nodded and wiped at her eyes with the bunny that, he hoped, had once been stuffed to the seams. He straightened a bit and glanced to his left, then the right, itching to find a frenzied woman tearing through the street, trying desperately to find her daughter.
When he saw nothing but the town’s citizens taking leisurely strolls or wandering in and out of the doors of the shops that lined the street, he turned back to her and smiled. “My name is Sam. What’s yours?”
“Avery,” she sniffled.
“That’s a pretty name.” He pointed to the floppy animal hanging from one hand, “And who is this?”
Avery brought the toy to her chest and hugged it tight, “Bunny.”
He tried not to laugh. He’d only assumed that all children assigned a special name to the stuffed animal they slept with at night. Then again, Sam couldn’t remember having such a keepsake as a child. A .45 wasn’t nearly as cuddly.
“Okay, Avery, how about you and I sit right here on this bench and wait for your mom?”
Wherever she was, Sam knew she couldn’t have gone very far. Better to stay in one place and let her find them on her second or third pass down this street than lead her in circles. If Avery’s mother was looking.
He had little experience with three-year-olds-or anyone born after the turn of the century, for that matter-- but she seemed to be of the more agreeable variety. Her eyes were still damp with tears and she wiped at her nose every few seconds, but she allowed him to easily lift her off her feet and settle her next him on the bench. Sam had enough trouble trying to come up with inane conversation to pass the time with strangers his own age, how was he supposed to avoid an awkward silence with a little girl whose most pressing issue on any given day was the pink or purple ribbon to put in her hair? Today, he noticed, was neither. At one point, the green barrette with three butterflies lined up in a row had kept a section of her hair tucked neatly away from her face and now it seemed to struggle on its hold of the loose, wispy brown curls in the breeze.
“Bunny is cold.”
Sam only nodded at her, taking this as fact and hoping the best for the rabbit until she offered it to him by one arm. Not wanting to offend her-or see her cry again, he took the toy and held it momentarily in both hands, staring down at the lone plastic eye and the worn patches in its fur. Only children, he thought, had the innate ability and pure innocence to find contentment and comfort in the simplest things. The friendly face of a stuffed animal or tucked inside of a warm pair of arms. After all, Bunny was cold-Avery had told him as much-so Sam slid him right inside of his jacket, leaving the bunny’s head to poke out between the zipper. “Think he’ll be okay like this?”
Avery grinned wide enough to show all of her tiny teeth and nodded, sliding across the aluminum of the bench until Sam was within reach. She patted one small hand against his arm, “He’s happy now.”
And Sam was too, if only because he managed to distract the girl enough that she didn’t seem so distraught over still being separated from her mother, but he wasn’t sure how much longer it would last.
“Sam?” Dean appeared in front of them, two unwrapped cheeseburgers settled inside of a basket of fries in one hand and brow knit in confusion. He pointed to the girl, “You, uh, got somethin’ to tell me? Like the bunny, too.”
He looked at Avery almost with a sense of surprise, as if the last five minutes had sprung up on him unexpectedly. And then he shook his head, tongue clicking behind his teeth in vague irritation, “Shut up. And no. She got separated from her mom somehow.” He shrugged, “I’m waiting here with her until she comes back.”
Earlier today, Dean harped on Sam about keeping a tight schedule for this case-all so they could just get it over with and move on to the next town, but judging by the lunch in hand and no apparent indication that Avery was a hitch in their plans; Dean joined them on the bench.
“Better if she was a dog.”
“Dean.”
“What?” He lifted his arms in defense, “How awesome would that be? You know, we could be like B.J. and the Bear.”
“Who was a chimpanzee. Not a dog. Or a bear.”
He shook his head, “Never did figure that one out.” Dean settled the basket of fries on his lap and offered one of the burgers to Sam over Avery’s head, “Here. I’da picked up something for the kid, too, but…” he stopped short and turned his gaze down to her, “You like French fries?”
Avery studied Dean for a moment and then took as many of the thinly cut potatoes as she could fit inside her tiny palm. He grinned, “’Atta girl.”
A whole new crop of fears wrestled in Sam’s mind as he watched her gum the fries one by one. Peanut allergies, grease stains on her pink fleece sweatpants, high cholesterol. He shook them from his mind then, figuring his concentration would be better spent on unwrapping the cheeseburger in his hand. “Hey Dean,” he looked to his brother, “Ever think about having kids?”
Dean didn’t miss a beat. “Hell no. I mean, not that I don’t think having a smaller, more compact me running around would be awesome, but I’m not tryin’ to screw up some kid’s life by, you know, default.” He turned a wary gaze onto Sam, “Why? See baby-snatching in your near future?”
Sam hoped that, despite Avery’s unfortunate-and temporary, God willing-circumstance of being separated from her mother today, that home was her safe harbor. Something he never had.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “I’ve thought-“
“Oh my God. Oh my God.”
Sam looked up, quickly searching out the voice that broke through their conversation. He never thought he’d be so relieved to hear panic. A woman, one he could only assume was Avery’s mother, came rushing towards them, arms outstretched to the little girl he and his brother flanked. Had it not been for the red cheeks, the tears still trailing over the apples of them and the wide green eyes he’d seen in Avery, Sam would have thought she was just one more of the well-dressed women out and about today.
She swept Avery from the bench, clutching her hard to her chest, “Don’t you ever to that to me again, baby. Do you hear me?” Whatever scolding she meant to pass onto her daughter never slid past the utter relief he heard in her voice in having her back in her arms.
Finally noticing Sam and Dean, her eyes narrowed in brief suspicion, but it was immediately clear to her that her daughter had not a scratch on her and the only thing these two men could possibly be accused of was eating the slop that came from the diner down the block.
“Thank you so much. I was at the bank and she just-“
Sam held up his hand, stopping her, “Don’t worry about it. It was no trouble at all.”
“Oh, but I feel so horrible. If there’s anything I can do…”
“No, no,” he shook his head and turned a smile on Avery, pulling Bunny from his jacket, “All you have to do is keep him safe and warm, okay?”
Avery took the toy into her grasp and tucked him under her chin as she nodded her promise. The smile on her mother’s face told Sam she would do the same for her little girl.