||[Feb. 6th, 2009|12:20 pm]
Rating: PG (Language)
Wordcount: 703 words.
So there's this curse that neither of them ever talk about.
The bad news is that it's actually permanent. They're tried everything but it's apparently, according to Bobby's vast network of resources and their own digging, impossible to lift.
The good news is, that as far as curses go, it's not really all that... bad.
"I hate this," Dean grumbles, staring morosely at his feet. Sam is always amazed that Dean will forget his own birthday but he will, without fail, remember Curse Day early enough to be bitching about it the night before.
Sam is carefully laying Dean's clothes out for the next day and Dean just glares at them. There's a very special outfit for Curse Day. "Maybe it won't happen this year," Sam says because Sam has a script to follow on the night before as well.
"Eat me," Dean snaps and picks up one of the sneakers from his Curse Day outfit.
It fits neatly into the palm of his hand.
"I hate this."
When Dean was fifteen years old, he toilet papered the wrong house.
It was a house that was famous through the small town of Burlap because there was apparently a witch living in it. Unfortunately for Dean, unlike most folksy stories about run-down old houses in small towns, this one actually did have a witch in residence.
A very vindictive one.
John nearly had a heart attack when he answered the motel door to a five year old Dean, practically mummified by toilet paper. What was even more surprising was that the miniature Dean had fifteen year old Dean's mouth on him.
They were all very relieved when Dean was back to normal the very next day.
The next year when Dean was sixteen on the very same calendar day, the Winchesters realised as a group that their relief had been very short-sighted.
"Your son's adorable," a waitress coos, leaning over to rub a hand through Dean's hair. He scowls and slinks further down in his seat.
This stopped being a novelty to him years ago.
"Thanks," Sam says brightly, accepting a refill on his coffee while Dean glares at his strawberry milkshake which Sam had ordered for him.
"If you don't give me that cup right now so help me I will end you," Dean snarls as soon as the waitress has retreated to the counter.
"Aw, is Deanie grumpy without his coffee?" Sam sing-songs.
Okay, so maybe the novelty hasn't worn completely off for Sam.
The problem is, Dean is adorable.
He's got shaggy hair, freckles and big green eyes. Dean used to work it to their advantage, getting them free pie and into movies but about five years back he started outright refusing to benefit Sam in any way with his size.
He started calling it exploitation and wouldn't be swayed.
Dean is also on Curse Day, very emotional.
Sam thinks it might be because it's still actually Dean, just packed into a smaller form and so everything is... concentrated.
One memorable year, when Sam refused to get Dean a banana split as big as his head, Dean cried for two hours in the car as they drove away from the diner. What freaked Sam out a little was how Dean managed to swear and threaten Sam while letting out these terrible, body-wracking sobs.
"Gonna...kill you... fuckin'... douchebag..."
Sam gets the bad parent glares as Dean gnaws on a chocolate bar that he has to hold in two hands but he doesn't care.
He can't ever hear something like that again.
Neither of them talk about the piggy back rides.
He knows that Dean hates it, but Sam actually looks forward to Curse Day. It's their one guaranteed day off a year and Sam thinks they both need the break.
Sam also likes those rare Curse Days where by the end of them Dean is exhausted and falls asleep in the car. Sam will lift Dean gently from the passenger seat and hold him for just a moment, getting the hug that Dean would never allow if he were conscious.
He loves his loud, brash and crass big brother but the little version...
It's kinda nice too.