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faerie_wish13Title: The Forgotten Birthday
Author: yonkyu
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Characters: Dean and Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Dean’s Hell nightmares described
Word Count: 2590
Written for the prompt(s): Birthday
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
majestic_duxk and kattrip033
Summary: A sudden noise woke Sam up and he went to go check it out. He was disturbed at his discovery but wished he could help fix the problem. Heading to the kitchen for his laptop to research his plan, he realized that it was his brother’s birthday. Sam’s plan changed to celebrate Dean’s birthday.
For around two AM, the night was certainly calm outside of the bunker. The calmness was a mocking contrast to its residents, as Sam had just been woken up by a scream from the other room.
He immediately got up to check on Dean, and as he approached the room, a soft light was thrown into the darkened hallway, as the door was left open. Sam tentatively peeked around the doorframe, and saw Dean tossing and turning. The covers were tangled about his limbs as Dean thrashed his head back and forth wildly, repeatedly mumbling the word “no” under his breath.
Leaning against the door frame, Sam sighed and was a washed in helplessness as he watched his brother fight the demons in his head.
He hated to see Dean like that, but he knew any attempts to provide comfort would be unwelcome. Nobody liked it when their brother attempted to mother-hen them back to health, and this was especially the case with Dean. Sam wanted to do what was best for Dean and as hard as it was, knew he had to resist his natural protective instincts and had to give Dean the space needed to overcome the demons.
Sighing to himself once more, he shook his head wishing there was a better way to help Dean besides standing there watching him suffer. Grudgingly, Sam pushed off the doorframe and headed towards the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee.
Sam flicked on the light as he entered the kitchen, and blinked his way to the coffee machine.
Still in a sleepy daze, he got the coffee machine running and waited for it to finish while leaning against the counter. His eyes wandered the kitchen as the coffee machine did its business, and stopped on the wall calendar.
It was January; a time for new beginnings.
The coffee pot dinged to indicate that its job was complete.
Sam reached for a coffee mug and found his eyes drawn to the calendar again.
It was still January, and today was now the 24th.
Sam paused, shook his head quickly to try to get some of the dazed feelings from his mind, and continued reaching for the coffee mug as he tried to make sense of why he was inexplicably drawn to the calendar again.
It was still January 24th…and Dean’s birthday.
Sam realized his absent mindedness as he wrapped his fingers around the mug and missed, mumbling curse words under his breath as he knocked the mug to the ground. How could it have slipped his mind? Dean always remembered those special days and they celebrated them in their own way. They never made a big deal about it, but Dean would pick up Sam’s favorite meal from the diner closest to the hotel they were staying in.
Coffee forgotten, he dropped his hands hard onto the table and slumped into the chair. How could he have forgotten his own brother’s birthday? Admittedly, Sam had been overly worried about Dean and how disturbed he was in his sleep, but forgetting Dean’s birthday was a new low.
He decided right then and there things would be different. This time they were going to celebrate Dean’s birthday and make up for all the ones he lost along the way. He pondered, face scrunched up in thought at how to celebrate Dean’s birthday. Most people celebrated with a cake, and Sam knew his brother well enough to know he’s not going to want cake, but pie. Dean loved pie, it was his favorite dessert in the whole wide world. Dean’s favorite was apple pie to be exact. Sam smiled as the thought came to him: he would bake his brother an apple pie. Sam chuckled to himself as he pictured himself in the kitchen baking a pie for his brother. Wouldn’t Dean get a kick out of seeing his brother baking, yet alone cook something?
The coffee pot beeped and Sam flinched. He scanned the room at the intrusion as his eyes focused on the coffee pot and broken mug on the floor. Sam had completely forgotten about the coffee and the broken mug as his thoughts were on his brother.
He stood up and turned off the coffee machine as he bent down to pick up the broken mug. Sam was thankful there weren’t any small shards scattered on the floor, knowing that his brother would only have his flimsy slippers on his feet.
Pouring the hot liquid into another mug, he sat down at the table. His laptop was still there from the night before where Sam was doing research for their next hunt. But when he thought about it, it was best for them to take a few days off and get plenty of rest.
Sam booted up the computer as he let the hot coffee warm him up. He opened up Google and found the simplest apple pie recipe. The only problem was he didn’t have the required pie crust box. He cringed at the idea of making the dough from scratch, since he wasn’t the cook around this place, but he would attempt it. All Sam could hope for was making the pie before Dean woke up and came looking for Sam.
Reviewing the recipe, Sam gathered up all the ingredients and supplies needed to make the pie. Setting everything down on the counter, he scanned through the comments, and chose to leave the skins on the apple as it “made the apples sweeter.” Sam shivered at the thought of how sweet this pie was going to be, but it was for Dean.
He got to work on the filling which took him forever, but was finally done. His thoughts went to Dean and how amused his brother would be at watching him bake. Gathering up his courage, it was now time to make the crust. Sneezing as he dumped the flour into the bowl, Sam took his time mixing it together. The dough wasn’t exactly as the recipe stated, but it was as good as it was going to get. Placing it in the fridge, he went back to his coffee.
Taking a sip of his coffee, Sam grimaced at the taste. He dumped it out and poured himself another cup. Sipping it, he began planning the day for his brother. It had been a long time since they done anything remotely fun, and Dean deserved it. They both did. What should they do? He had no clue. Head to the movies and watch the latest action film? Go to the local bar, get wasted, and shoot pool all night long? Maybe just connect to Netflix’s and binge watch Games of Throne. They had plenty of beer, and two pizzas in the freezer that Sam could heat up for dinner. It would be a night of brotherly bonding, and he hoped it would relax Dean enough to share with Sam about his night terrors.
As the buzzer went off, Sam jumped and spilled his coffee in front of him. Damn it! Moving the computer to the counter, Sam grabbed the paper towels to soak up the spilled coffee. He hoped the buzzer noise didn’t carry down to Dean’s room and wake him up. Sam shook his head as he finally turned off the annoying alarm from his phone. It was time to try and make the dreadful pie crust.
He never would have guessed, but rolling it out was harder than making it. Every time he placed his hand into the bag and pulled his hand out the white powder formed a cloud all around him. Sam grimaced at the amount of flour on his workspace, and he prayed it wouldn’t ruin the dough.
Sam placed the pie into the oven and hoped it came out edible. He knew Dean was the better cook. He set the timer again, to remind himself when to take the pie out. The last thing he wanted was to wake Dean up with a burnt pie.
He thought it would be best to clean up his mess before Dean learned what Sam was up to. He made quick work of putting the ingredients back into the cabinets so he could scrub at the mess on the counter and floor. Flour was everywhere and he knew it would take some time to get the kitchen spotless. Once the mess was taken care of, Sam headed to the library to get some reading done.
~*~
Meanwhile, back in his room, Dean was becoming aware of his nightmares and having a difficult time getting out of them. They were controlled by an invisible force that he couldn’t fight off. They scared him and he was tired of reliving his experience of Hell.
Dean could feel the cool metal hooks penetrating his body as they held him off the ground from the ceiling. His skin was pale and transparent as it was stretched and pulled.
The smell of burnt flesh and blood suffocated him and sat heavy in his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Then a thick black smoke rose from the burning bodies scattered all around him and cocooned Dean’s body as panic set in. Dean tried to scream and flail around to get loose, but the smoke held on tight, never loosening up its hold to release him.
Through the thick smoke, a cool metal brushed against his cheek and down his chest. And without warning it scraped off a layer of skin and Dean screamed in pain. The knife worked quick and fast with accuracy until nothing but muscle and bone were left. The smoke was gone as quickly as it came and he felt sharp claws ripping through muscle. All Dean could do was scream, his voice already hoarse from the pain. His eyes were searching wildly for the owner of the claws when the dark skeleton came into view.
It was a hellhound ripping him to pieces all over again.
It growled low as it went to work on Dean, the sound loud in his ears. The mutt tore him limb from limb until his bones were left scattered across the floor.
The nightmare began to fade as a loud noise cut through the fog in his mind. He shot up in bed as a beeping surrounded him. His heart beat raced and bile rose up his throat, gagging him.
His eyes searched the room for the noise, but it was gone now. As he sat on his bed, choking on the rapid gasps entering his body, it took a few minutes for Dean to gain control of his breathing and calm his racing heart.
Dean hated to relive his time in Hell, but these night terrors brought him back to the rack for him to learn a lesson: he was weak. It frightened him to know that he was always weak and it was all due to Hell. It would always be a part of him, whether he liked it or not. From his experience, he would never be able to fix it or make better.
The worst thing was, he never wanted to admit that to himself, let alone Sam. Dean never dealt with the consequences of his own actions. It’s what made him weak compared to his brother. Sam always acknowledged the consequences of his actions. It was something Dean wished he could learn how to follow in his brother’s footsteps.
Dean needed to learn how to admit that he made mistakes and to deal with his consequences. One way to deal with it was to tell his brother about these nightmares. He couldn’t keep pretending they never happened in the first place. Things were different now and his brother could help him beat these night terrors if Dean wasn’t so afraid to share them with Sam. But, maybe, he would need his brother to help him overcome his struggle with these night terrors. Dean shivered at the thought, and needing help wasn’t his forte, all he cared about was getting rid of them.
Dean had to put these nightmares behind him, and he had to share with Sam about them to move forward in life. He had to do it today, before he changed his mind.
Pushing himself off the bed, he stood on shaky legs. It took a few minutes for him to gain control over his body before he took a tentative step forward.
Taking one step at a time, Dean padded down the hallway for a shower. Turning the dial as hot as it would go, Dean went to work on removing his clothes. Steam rose from the stall when he stepped inside. He stood under the spray and let the heat wash away the memories. He felt dirty from the inside out and no matter what he did he couldn’t get clean.
The water ran cold, eventually, and turning the dial off Dean stepped out to grab a towel. Once dried and dressed, Dean headed for the kitchen, in search of his brother to talk to him about his nightmares while he got his much needed cup of coffee.
On his way there, an annoying beep could be heard. It was the same sound that pulled him out of his dream. The closer he got to the kitchen, the louder it got. Damn it! Dean strode towards the kitchen, only to find his brother in the doorway, huffing for breath. They stared at each other until Dean found his voice.
“Are you going to turn it off?” The noise was pounding his head like a hammer.
“Yeah,” It took Sam a moment to get in gear, “Yeah, I’ll turn it off. Sorry,” he grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm.
“What were you doing?”
A flush of embarrassment colored his brother’s cheeks, “Baking you a pie.” Sam said as he walked towards the oven.
Sam grabbed the oven mitt and pulled the apple pie out. He took his time turning off the oven before he turned on his heel to face his brother.
Dean stood there shocked with his mouth hanging wide open. He stared at his brother and the pie in his hands. Dean couldn’t fight the feeling of happiness spreading through his body. Sam baked him a pie, a pie just for him. He couldn’t believe it, his brother did something special for him. A shy smile crossed his face at the thoughtful gesture, not understanding what it was all about anyway.
Sam smiled wide and flashed his dimples. His brother took a step forward and thrust the pie towards Dean, and proudly said, “Happy Birthday, Dean!”
It dawned on Dean why his brother slaved away in the kitchen making him pie. It was his birthday. He didn’t even realize it was here. A genuine smile blossomed on his face at his brother for remembering his birthday and finding a way to celebrate this day together.
“Thanks, Sammy,” he said, pure joy coloring his voice. Dean never thought his brother would be so kind to him and make him feel special for a day. He was overwhelmed with emotions at what the littlest thing could do to him.
His brother made him feel like the happiest man on earth. The smile on Sam’s face made his smile grow from ear to ear. Dean decided he could wait to tell his brother about the nightmares he’s been having another time. He didn’t want to ruin this moment with his brother. A moment that said more than words could ever say.
Author: yonkyu
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Characters: Dean and Sam
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Dean’s Hell nightmares described
Word Count: 2590
Written for the prompt(s): Birthday
Beta:
majestic_duxk and kattrip033Summary: A sudden noise woke Sam up and he went to go check it out. He was disturbed at his discovery but wished he could help fix the problem. Heading to the kitchen for his laptop to research his plan, he realized that it was his brother’s birthday. Sam’s plan changed to celebrate Dean’s birthday.
For around two AM, the night was certainly calm outside of the bunker. The calmness was a mocking contrast to its residents, as Sam had just been woken up by a scream from the other room.
He immediately got up to check on Dean, and as he approached the room, a soft light was thrown into the darkened hallway, as the door was left open. Sam tentatively peeked around the doorframe, and saw Dean tossing and turning. The covers were tangled about his limbs as Dean thrashed his head back and forth wildly, repeatedly mumbling the word “no” under his breath.
Leaning against the door frame, Sam sighed and was a washed in helplessness as he watched his brother fight the demons in his head.
He hated to see Dean like that, but he knew any attempts to provide comfort would be unwelcome. Nobody liked it when their brother attempted to mother-hen them back to health, and this was especially the case with Dean. Sam wanted to do what was best for Dean and as hard as it was, knew he had to resist his natural protective instincts and had to give Dean the space needed to overcome the demons.
Sighing to himself once more, he shook his head wishing there was a better way to help Dean besides standing there watching him suffer. Grudgingly, Sam pushed off the doorframe and headed towards the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee.
Sam flicked on the light as he entered the kitchen, and blinked his way to the coffee machine.
Still in a sleepy daze, he got the coffee machine running and waited for it to finish while leaning against the counter. His eyes wandered the kitchen as the coffee machine did its business, and stopped on the wall calendar.
It was January; a time for new beginnings.
The coffee pot dinged to indicate that its job was complete.
Sam reached for a coffee mug and found his eyes drawn to the calendar again.
It was still January, and today was now the 24th.
Sam paused, shook his head quickly to try to get some of the dazed feelings from his mind, and continued reaching for the coffee mug as he tried to make sense of why he was inexplicably drawn to the calendar again.
It was still January 24th…and Dean’s birthday.
Sam realized his absent mindedness as he wrapped his fingers around the mug and missed, mumbling curse words under his breath as he knocked the mug to the ground. How could it have slipped his mind? Dean always remembered those special days and they celebrated them in their own way. They never made a big deal about it, but Dean would pick up Sam’s favorite meal from the diner closest to the hotel they were staying in.
Coffee forgotten, he dropped his hands hard onto the table and slumped into the chair. How could he have forgotten his own brother’s birthday? Admittedly, Sam had been overly worried about Dean and how disturbed he was in his sleep, but forgetting Dean’s birthday was a new low.
He decided right then and there things would be different. This time they were going to celebrate Dean’s birthday and make up for all the ones he lost along the way. He pondered, face scrunched up in thought at how to celebrate Dean’s birthday. Most people celebrated with a cake, and Sam knew his brother well enough to know he’s not going to want cake, but pie. Dean loved pie, it was his favorite dessert in the whole wide world. Dean’s favorite was apple pie to be exact. Sam smiled as the thought came to him: he would bake his brother an apple pie. Sam chuckled to himself as he pictured himself in the kitchen baking a pie for his brother. Wouldn’t Dean get a kick out of seeing his brother baking, yet alone cook something?
The coffee pot beeped and Sam flinched. He scanned the room at the intrusion as his eyes focused on the coffee pot and broken mug on the floor. Sam had completely forgotten about the coffee and the broken mug as his thoughts were on his brother.
He stood up and turned off the coffee machine as he bent down to pick up the broken mug. Sam was thankful there weren’t any small shards scattered on the floor, knowing that his brother would only have his flimsy slippers on his feet.
Pouring the hot liquid into another mug, he sat down at the table. His laptop was still there from the night before where Sam was doing research for their next hunt. But when he thought about it, it was best for them to take a few days off and get plenty of rest.
Sam booted up the computer as he let the hot coffee warm him up. He opened up Google and found the simplest apple pie recipe. The only problem was he didn’t have the required pie crust box. He cringed at the idea of making the dough from scratch, since he wasn’t the cook around this place, but he would attempt it. All Sam could hope for was making the pie before Dean woke up and came looking for Sam.
Reviewing the recipe, Sam gathered up all the ingredients and supplies needed to make the pie. Setting everything down on the counter, he scanned through the comments, and chose to leave the skins on the apple as it “made the apples sweeter.” Sam shivered at the thought of how sweet this pie was going to be, but it was for Dean.
He got to work on the filling which took him forever, but was finally done. His thoughts went to Dean and how amused his brother would be at watching him bake. Gathering up his courage, it was now time to make the crust. Sneezing as he dumped the flour into the bowl, Sam took his time mixing it together. The dough wasn’t exactly as the recipe stated, but it was as good as it was going to get. Placing it in the fridge, he went back to his coffee.
Taking a sip of his coffee, Sam grimaced at the taste. He dumped it out and poured himself another cup. Sipping it, he began planning the day for his brother. It had been a long time since they done anything remotely fun, and Dean deserved it. They both did. What should they do? He had no clue. Head to the movies and watch the latest action film? Go to the local bar, get wasted, and shoot pool all night long? Maybe just connect to Netflix’s and binge watch Games of Throne. They had plenty of beer, and two pizzas in the freezer that Sam could heat up for dinner. It would be a night of brotherly bonding, and he hoped it would relax Dean enough to share with Sam about his night terrors.
As the buzzer went off, Sam jumped and spilled his coffee in front of him. Damn it! Moving the computer to the counter, Sam grabbed the paper towels to soak up the spilled coffee. He hoped the buzzer noise didn’t carry down to Dean’s room and wake him up. Sam shook his head as he finally turned off the annoying alarm from his phone. It was time to try and make the dreadful pie crust.
He never would have guessed, but rolling it out was harder than making it. Every time he placed his hand into the bag and pulled his hand out the white powder formed a cloud all around him. Sam grimaced at the amount of flour on his workspace, and he prayed it wouldn’t ruin the dough.
Sam placed the pie into the oven and hoped it came out edible. He knew Dean was the better cook. He set the timer again, to remind himself when to take the pie out. The last thing he wanted was to wake Dean up with a burnt pie.
He thought it would be best to clean up his mess before Dean learned what Sam was up to. He made quick work of putting the ingredients back into the cabinets so he could scrub at the mess on the counter and floor. Flour was everywhere and he knew it would take some time to get the kitchen spotless. Once the mess was taken care of, Sam headed to the library to get some reading done.
~*~
Meanwhile, back in his room, Dean was becoming aware of his nightmares and having a difficult time getting out of them. They were controlled by an invisible force that he couldn’t fight off. They scared him and he was tired of reliving his experience of Hell.
Dean could feel the cool metal hooks penetrating his body as they held him off the ground from the ceiling. His skin was pale and transparent as it was stretched and pulled.
The smell of burnt flesh and blood suffocated him and sat heavy in his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Then a thick black smoke rose from the burning bodies scattered all around him and cocooned Dean’s body as panic set in. Dean tried to scream and flail around to get loose, but the smoke held on tight, never loosening up its hold to release him.
Through the thick smoke, a cool metal brushed against his cheek and down his chest. And without warning it scraped off a layer of skin and Dean screamed in pain. The knife worked quick and fast with accuracy until nothing but muscle and bone were left. The smoke was gone as quickly as it came and he felt sharp claws ripping through muscle. All Dean could do was scream, his voice already hoarse from the pain. His eyes were searching wildly for the owner of the claws when the dark skeleton came into view.
It was a hellhound ripping him to pieces all over again.
It growled low as it went to work on Dean, the sound loud in his ears. The mutt tore him limb from limb until his bones were left scattered across the floor.
The nightmare began to fade as a loud noise cut through the fog in his mind. He shot up in bed as a beeping surrounded him. His heart beat raced and bile rose up his throat, gagging him.
His eyes searched the room for the noise, but it was gone now. As he sat on his bed, choking on the rapid gasps entering his body, it took a few minutes for Dean to gain control of his breathing and calm his racing heart.
Dean hated to relive his time in Hell, but these night terrors brought him back to the rack for him to learn a lesson: he was weak. It frightened him to know that he was always weak and it was all due to Hell. It would always be a part of him, whether he liked it or not. From his experience, he would never be able to fix it or make better.
The worst thing was, he never wanted to admit that to himself, let alone Sam. Dean never dealt with the consequences of his own actions. It’s what made him weak compared to his brother. Sam always acknowledged the consequences of his actions. It was something Dean wished he could learn how to follow in his brother’s footsteps.
Dean needed to learn how to admit that he made mistakes and to deal with his consequences. One way to deal with it was to tell his brother about these nightmares. He couldn’t keep pretending they never happened in the first place. Things were different now and his brother could help him beat these night terrors if Dean wasn’t so afraid to share them with Sam. But, maybe, he would need his brother to help him overcome his struggle with these night terrors. Dean shivered at the thought, and needing help wasn’t his forte, all he cared about was getting rid of them.
Dean had to put these nightmares behind him, and he had to share with Sam about them to move forward in life. He had to do it today, before he changed his mind.
Pushing himself off the bed, he stood on shaky legs. It took a few minutes for him to gain control over his body before he took a tentative step forward.
Taking one step at a time, Dean padded down the hallway for a shower. Turning the dial as hot as it would go, Dean went to work on removing his clothes. Steam rose from the stall when he stepped inside. He stood under the spray and let the heat wash away the memories. He felt dirty from the inside out and no matter what he did he couldn’t get clean.
The water ran cold, eventually, and turning the dial off Dean stepped out to grab a towel. Once dried and dressed, Dean headed for the kitchen, in search of his brother to talk to him about his nightmares while he got his much needed cup of coffee.
On his way there, an annoying beep could be heard. It was the same sound that pulled him out of his dream. The closer he got to the kitchen, the louder it got. Damn it! Dean strode towards the kitchen, only to find his brother in the doorway, huffing for breath. They stared at each other until Dean found his voice.
“Are you going to turn it off?” The noise was pounding his head like a hammer.
“Yeah,” It took Sam a moment to get in gear, “Yeah, I’ll turn it off. Sorry,” he grabbed his phone and turned off the alarm.
“What were you doing?”
A flush of embarrassment colored his brother’s cheeks, “Baking you a pie.” Sam said as he walked towards the oven.
Sam grabbed the oven mitt and pulled the apple pie out. He took his time turning off the oven before he turned on his heel to face his brother.
Dean stood there shocked with his mouth hanging wide open. He stared at his brother and the pie in his hands. Dean couldn’t fight the feeling of happiness spreading through his body. Sam baked him a pie, a pie just for him. He couldn’t believe it, his brother did something special for him. A shy smile crossed his face at the thoughtful gesture, not understanding what it was all about anyway.
Sam smiled wide and flashed his dimples. His brother took a step forward and thrust the pie towards Dean, and proudly said, “Happy Birthday, Dean!”
It dawned on Dean why his brother slaved away in the kitchen making him pie. It was his birthday. He didn’t even realize it was here. A genuine smile blossomed on his face at his brother for remembering his birthday and finding a way to celebrate this day together.
“Thanks, Sammy,” he said, pure joy coloring his voice. Dean never thought his brother would be so kind to him and make him feel special for a day. He was overwhelmed with emotions at what the littlest thing could do to him.
His brother made him feel like the happiest man on earth. The smile on Sam’s face made his smile grow from ear to ear. Dean decided he could wait to tell his brother about the nightmares he’s been having another time. He didn’t want to ruin this moment with his brother. A moment that said more than words could ever say.
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