Guess what day it is? Comment-fic day!
Once again, it's everyone's favourite day in Supernatural: May 2nd! You know what that means, right? Time to hurt Sam! ;)
You know the drill, right? Allow me to post a refresher:
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You know the drill, right? Allow me to post a refresher:
( Read more... )
Filled: Lines
I don’t own supernatural
Dean was mad. Sam could see that, but he didn’t really have any idea why.
“What the hell is this?” Dean yelled, holding up a sheet of paper.
Sam recognized it immediately and paled drastically.
It couldn’t be. But it looked like it ( ... )
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Dean hauled off and socked him in the face.
What-? Why? What had just happened?
As soon as it registered with Sam, he let out a wail and started crying.
It was a stupid thing to do. Dean was mad, and Sam needed to clam him down.
But it had been a hard two years. And now this.
Sam couldn’t. He just couldn’t. It was too much.
He started sobbing and dropped down to his butt on the floor.
He felt like a five year old who wanted Daddy because Big Brother was mean and hit him.
There were two problems with this.
One, his dad was dead.
Two, his dad had never actually been his Daddy. The man was his gene donator, not the most prominent guy in his life.
That task had always been shifted to Dean.
He had actually called Dean daddy for quite awhile. He only stopped because he went to Stanford.
So he couldn’t have Daddy make it all better, because Daddy was essentially the same person who had just hit him.
He contented himself with curling into a ball and crying.
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When he had found the notebook, it didn’t take five minutes to figure out it was Sam’s writing displayed on the page.
He hadn't known if it was something they still needed (it had been in the backseat where no one ever sat anymore) so he
opened it to see what it was in it.
He hadn't meant it as an invasion of privacy; he just wanted to know if he could throw it away.
The contents were horrifying. Simply befuddling and nausea inducing at the same time.
The whole entire book was filled with page after page after page of Sam’s neat handwriting detailing how horrible its owner was.
Dean flipped through it with rising panic and disgust.
What was he supposed to do with this?
What the hell was he supposed to do when confronted with how far back his baby brother’s feelings of inadequacy went?
And to think that these from way way back when Sam was Sammy and Dean was Daddy most of the time ( ... )
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Sam didn’t deserve that. It had been years ago, and, yeah, Dean felt perfectly justified being angry about secret keeping, but he shouldn’t have punched his brother.
He was more than prepared to apologize, except he wasn’t given the chance.
Sam wailed and fell back on his butt before bursting into tears.
And now he was pretty sure he was in some form of shock, and he had made Sammy cry.
It was Sammy, too, not Sam.
Dean could tell the difference.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, dropping to his knees and wrapping Sam in a hug. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m sorry.”
Sam continued to cry, but uncurled himself and latched onto Dean instead.
“’M sooooooooory!” he wailed.
“No, it’s my fault,” Dean refused. “I didn’t like what I saw on that sheet. You wanna tell me what that’s all about?”
It was uncomfortable to be sitting on the floor with his huge little brother practically in his lap, but he had to know this. Had to know what prompted Sam to write over and over and over how he wasn’t worth ( ... )
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Sitting down next to his baby brother, he shoved both items into Sammy’s hands.
“What-?” Sam trailed off.
“You are going to do exactly the opposite of what you were doing before,” Dean ordered.
Sam tilted his head to the side, looking confused.
God he was adorable. It wasn’t fair that he looked like a five year old like that. It just wasn’t.
“You're going to write lines about how good you are instead of how bad you are,” Dean clarified. “For example, you're going to write ‘I am not worthless’ three hundred time before we go to bed tonight.”
His little brother went bright red.
“I can’t do that, De. Do you have any idea how conceited that sounds?” he objected.
“Sam, if you know what's good for you, you're going to start writing now,” Dean threatened ( ... )
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