Picture Perfect (1/?)
Apr. 22nd, 2007 04:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sams1raDisclaimer: I don't own the Winchester in their Wee or adult version. *sigh* That's a shame.
Word Count: ~1930
Characters: Wee!Dean, John, Mary.
Summery: Wee!Dean? Well, he really, really doesn't like to have his hair washed... A Wee!Dean story.
Comments: Of course, don't be shy ;)
Notes: Preseries. A series of oneshots about baby Dean. You may also want to read 'There was life there, once', though you don't have to read that one to understand this one.
Lawrence, Kansas, 1980
"NOOO! No, no, no, no!"
"Dean Winchester, you come right back here!"
"No!"
"Dean! Now!"
"No!"
"You are in big trouble, mister! Just you wait till your Daddy comes home and… Gotcha!" Mary cried, scooping up the struggling two year old. She held him at arm's length, doing her best not to get Dean's sticky hands (and arms, and belly, and face) stain her clothes, as she brought the toddler back to the bathroom. Putting him down, Mary quickly closed the bathroom door and started running the hot water again.
"Oh, you had better stay away from that door, or so help me… DEAN!" but she was already too late. She sighed, huffing and blowing a lock of hair away from her face. She turned the water off, again, and grunted a little as she pushed to her feet. She'd known she'd made a mistake the moment the words 'wash that dirty hair of yours' came out of her mouth.
Dean was a good kid. He was loving, affectionate, full of life and energy, and he was also obedient and quiet when need be. He was polite, inquisitive and smart. But he hated having his hair washed. Period.
He didn’t mind taking baths, but when it came to washing his hair… Let's just say it's a good thing John used to be in the Marines.
"Dean, get back here!" Mary cried, looking both ways as she exited the bathroom in search of her son.
"No!" Mary smiled, glad her son didn’t quite get the concept of hiding just yet.
"You get in the bathroom right now, or there's no story time tonight!" she threatened. Nothing. Damn, the kid was catching on fast.
Mary's eyes grew wide and she cursed silently. "Dean, not Daddy's recliner! I'll never get these stains out." She ran her hand through her hair. "You're in big trouble, you hear me?"
"No bath!" Dean cried as he jumped from behind the sofa (leaving sticky fingerprints, damn it!) and darted toward the stairs.
"Oh, no you don’t!" Mary cried, running after him. Who knew two year olds were so quick? "Dean!" she nearly caught him. Grazed his hand, but he dropped to the floor, shrieking, and got away. "Dean Winchester, you don’t get in the bathroom right now and I swear you won't be having ice cream again until you're thirty!" at that, Dean froze. Finally. Stopped in mid-crawl under the kitchen table. Right where the upturned plate of spaghetti stained his diaper red. Perfect.
"More ice cream?" he asked hopefully.
"Oh, hell no!" Mary said, planting her hands on her hips. "No more ice cream!"
"No. Bath!" Dean insisted. Mary narrowed her eyes.
"Fine." She said, rolling up her sleeves as she marched to the kitchen. Dean shrieked, crawling deeper under the table, and then turning and running right past his mother, still shrieking.
"Whoa, what is this, Indians raiding on our house?" John asked, scooping his shrieking two year old off the ground. All John needed was to see his son dressed in nothing but his dirty diaper and the remains of his supper, the mess in the kitchen, and the tired look on his wife's face to realize what was going on. He smiled at his wife, holding his squirming son firmly in his hands.
"John," Mary breathed in relief, walking over to her husband and kissing him. "I'll take him." she said, reaching her hands to take Dean, who shrieked, shaking his head vehemently. John smiled.
"I got him." he said.
"He'll get you all dirty." Mary said, and John laughed.
"Can't get much dirtier than this." he said. He was still wearing the clothes he worked with at the shop, and those were never really clean, no matter how many times Mary had washed them. Mary sighed.
"Alright," she said, admitting defeat, "I'll go clean up the mess. Make dinner." She said, kissing her husband again. "Good luck." She added, making John smile again.
"No bath!" Dean added promptly.
"Really?" John asked, readjusting his hold on Dean so he could better look at his son. "You're supposed to say 'hi Daddy, how was your day?'" Dean blinked at his father, studying the older man.
"No bath!" he said at last, making his father laugh.
"No bath." John said, "But I want a kiss and hug." Dean studied his father a moment longer, trying to determine if he was being fooled, finally decided he wasn’t. He hugged his father tightly, giving the older man's stubbled cheek a sticky kiss. John made a face, fighting the instinct to clean his cheek.
"You," he poked Dean's belly, "are a mess." Dean narrowed his eyes.
"No bath."
"You wanna see a magic trick?" Dean's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and he nodded. "I bet I can magically know what you had for supper." John said, and Dean cocked his head to the side. "Let's see… you had… spaghetti and meatballs!" John said, and Dean's mouth opened in wonderment. "And… there was a dessert. An apple?" John raised a brow and Dean shook his head.
"No, Daddy." John shifted Dean to his hip, slowly heading for the steps.
"Hmm… Did you have… tomato cookies?" John tried again, and Dean giggled.
"No, Daddy." He said with a shake of his head.
"No." John smiled. "Of course not. Because you had… a pickle!" Dean giggled louder this time, oblivious to his father climbing the stairs and heading for the bathroom.
"Silly Daddy!" Dean laughed, and John couldn’t suppress his smile.
"Oh, I know, you had a fire truck!" Dean scrunched up his nose, laughing. John scratched his head, "You ate an entire airplane by yourself for dessert? Didn’t even leave me a piece?" he asked, and Dean's laugh was so loud now, loud and rolling and carefree.
"No, Daddy." He said, "Ice cream." John gestured with his head.
"Oooh, ice cream," he drawled, "Well, that would explain why your face is all pink and brown. I didn’t want to say anything, I thought you were wearing camouflage." John winked at his son and Dean laughed again. "You want to play a game with your old man?" John asked, and Dean nodded his head enthusiastically. "You wanna play soldiers again?" John suggested.
"Yay!" Dean cried, making John laugh. He put Dean down on the bathroom floor.
"Okay, here's the plan," he said, kneeling next to his son, "but you have to be real quiet about it or the enemy'll find us." John added, lowering his voice. Dean giggled in excitement, nearing his father, bouncing on the balls of his little feet. "I know, why don’t I turn the water on, so the noise will make it hard to hear us?" John suggested.
"Me! I wanna!" Dean said, trying to climb into the tub and reach for the tap. John strapped his diaper off, helping the two year old in the tub. Dean turned the water on and John pulled him away, adjusting the water temperature.
"You know," John said in a low voice, looking over his shoulder and then quickly back at Dean, "I think the bathtub is actually gonna be a great place to hide. This can be our base of operations. What do you say, tiger?" John asked, looking over his shoulder again. Dean considered it for a moment before saying,
"Okay, Daddy." John gave a nod of approval.
"But, you know, we’re gonna need camouflage. I mean, we can't just be in a bathtub and not be wet, right?" he asked. Dean stared at him for a long moment, and John thanked God he had such a good poker face, or he would've laughed out loud a long time ago. Dean was sharp alright. John could see the toddler suspected foul play. He looked over his shoulder again, thinking hard.
"John? You okay in there?" Mary's voice carried from the kitchen, making John smirk. He quickly turned to his baby boy, sucking a breath of air.
"Quick, they're coming!" John said urgently. Dean's eyes widened. He shrieked, jumping up and down until John caught him, holding him steady so he wouldn’t slip. "Last chance, chief, you gotta protect yourself before they get here!" John said. Dean bubbled something incoherent. He did that sometimes, when he got excited – got his words all jumbled up. "You want me to help you?" John asked, making sure, knowing all hell will break loose if he started showering Dean with water and Dean didn’t want him to. But Dean nodded, pointing to the water.
John had to suppress a smug smirk and started dosing Dean with water. "You know, I was thinking, what if they're using dogs?" John asked. Dean frowned, flopping down in the tub and looking quizzically at his father.
"Doggy?" and then the boy's face brightened. "Puppy?" John suppressed a groan, cursing inwardly. Dean wanted to get a puppy. Mary refused, saying he was too young, and there was no changing her mind.
"No, big dogs, hounds. You know what hounds do, Dean?" John asked, and Dean shook his head. John rubbed the ice cream off his son's face. "They have a really good sense of smell. They can smell little kids." He said, and at the look on his son's face, quickly added; "And soldiers, too. They bark and that's how the enemy know where you are." Dean's face scrunched up as he tried to process the information and come up with an answer.
"You know what we can do?" John asked, wanting to move this game along. Dean looked up at him. "We should use something to cover up the smell. Something that doesn’t smell like little, er, soldiers." He said thoughtfully, putting a finger to his lips. "What can we use? What can we use?" Dean looked around the bathroom, and then his face brightened again. He pointed at the soap.
"Soap!" he announced, "Use soap, Daddy!"
"Brilliant!" John praised, "That's my boy!" he said, and started scrubbing Dean.
"Daddy!" Dean protested angrily as John got the shampoo. John looked innocently at him.
"You don’t want them to smell your hair, do you? I mean, this way, they'll think you're a flower and then they'll never find us." He said simply. Dean considered this, then gave a slight, hesitant nod, squeezing his eyes shut.
John was careful to keep the shampoo from coming anywhere near Dean's eyes, knowing how sensitive his boy was. He made a quick work of washing the soap away.
"There," John said, sniffing Dean, and turning the water off, "Now no one can find you." Dean beamed at him. "Stay here, let me see if it's safe." John said, making sure Dean was standing on his little rubber matt so he wouldn’t slip and fall in the tub. He made a big show of crawling to the door and peeking out, looking both ways. John let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, pretending to rub sweat off his forehead. "I think they're gone. I think they went away, it's safe to come out now." He said.
Dean reached his little hands for his father, and John wrapped him up in his towel, kissing the top of Dean's head, and then messing it with the towel, toweling him off.
"Come on, tiger, time to get to bed. You want me to read you a story?" John asked. Dean nodded.
"But no bath!" he added quickly.
The End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 12:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 02:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 01:41 pm (UTC)That is so. Cute. Seriously. *GLEE*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 02:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 02:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 02:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 04:02 pm (UTC)Loved John`s little strategy here. Too bad the boys not only lost their Mom but also this Dad with Sam never knowing either one. *sniff*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 04:20 pm (UTC)I drew the inspiration from my 2 year old nephew ;)
And I agree, too bad this John died along with Mary =`(
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 06:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 07:08 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 08:39 pm (UTC)Loved it!!
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Date: 2007-04-24 05:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-23 09:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 05:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-04-24 03:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 01:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 03:50 pm (UTC)Write more! (please?)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-24 10:50 pm (UTC)The last line just cracked me up! but the whole story was just too gorgeous. I really just want to hug them all...so I'll just ::hug fic::
Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-25 05:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-05 02:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-13 08:49 am (UTC)I am writing more of these, hopefully I'll post them soon.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-05 02:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-06 06:01 pm (UTC)I actually forgot to post the second one here. Huh. I really should do that, shouldn't I? *note to self*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-10 04:13 pm (UTC)Thank God my two-year-old still likes taking a bath...that would be a pain to go through every night!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-13 08:38 am (UTC)And this story was actually based on him.
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Date: 2007-05-11 12:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-13 08:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-11 04:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-05-13 08:46 am (UTC)And yes, yes it can ;)
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Date: 2007-05-13 12:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-06-03 04:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-06-04 04:24 pm (UTC)