Characters: Dean, John, Sam (Gen, Wee!WinchesterFic)
Summary: The year after Mary's death, John's not up to it, but Dean decides little Sammy needs a Halloween and dresses the two of them up using stuff he finds around the motel.
Author’s Notes: Written for spn_halloween (prompt #37). I bent this prompt a little, and delayed Halloween to the next year. Otherwise, Sammy might still have been a worm-baby and Dean would only have been five, so making costumes would have been darn hard. The original spirit of the prompt is well intact, though. Happy Halloween!
Dean’s seen the signs of it in stores for almost a month.
Pumpkins. Witches’ hats. Spiderwebs and ghosts, and best of all, candy corn.
Halloween was coming, and he could hardly wait! What would he be this year? Would there be a party at school?
But time went on, and houses were getting all decorated, and still Daddy said nothing. Dean started to worry.
He remembered the last two Halloweens. He’d been a dinosaur when he was four, back when they still lived in their house in Kansas. When he was five, and he and Sammy were living with Uncle Mike and Aunt Kate, he’d been a vampire with plastic teeth and a cape.
But now he was six, and they’d been in Cheyenne for a week at this stupid motel. They didn’t have pumpkins and they didn’t have costumes, and Halloween was tomorrow. What if Daddy had forgotten?
At dinner, Dean waited until his father seemed to be in a good mood. Dean had been careful to do good job eating his dinner, and he’d done everything he’d been told to since Daddy had brought them home.
“Daddy?” Dean said quietly.
“Yes, Dean,” John answered. He always sounded so tired.
“Are we gonna have Halloween, me and Sammy?” Dean asked. “It’s tomorrow.”
John sighed. “I don’t know, Dean. It honestly sort of slipped my mind.”
“But it’s tomorrow!” Dean squeaked. “And there’s been pumpkins and stuff out forever! Even at the motel office.”
“I’m sorry, Dean,” John said. “I knew it was coming, I just… wasn’t ready for it to be now.”
“Like Christmas?” Dean whispered.
“Kind of like that,” John said. “Thank goodness Santa never forgets—especially good little boys like you and Sammy.”
Dean got down from the cramped little motel room table, and came around too stand in front of John. “Why can’t we have it, Daddy? Sammy’s too little to remember the last one. This would be like his first real Halloween.”
“Well, we don’t have costumes for the two of you, Dean. And it’s the end of the month-- we don’t have money to buy anything.”
“But can’t you think of something?” Dean pleaded. Daddy hardly seemed like he was listening. Dean patted John’s knee softly, trying to make himself heard.
“I’d like to, Dean, but I’ve got to be up early tomorrow. You too, buddy. You’ve got school, and I have to take Sammy with me into the shop.”
“When’re we gonna get an apartment, Daddy?”
“As soon as I can manage, Dean. As soon as I can manage.” John brushed Dean’s hair back from his forehead. “We’ve got to get you two to bed now, though. Brush your teeth and get your jammies on.”
Dean got ready for bed, trying to imagine how he could make something work out before tomorrow. He crawled in beside Sammy, hugged Daddy goodnight, and waited.
He’d meant to stay awake, but a sudden snore from John startled him out of sleep. Dean rubbed his eyes, and sat up before he could drift off again. It was dark in the motel room, but Dean already knew what he was looking for.
Slipping out of bed, he crept quietly over to where John slept. He snuck his hand out and pulled on the spare pillow until he’d managed to drag it off the edge of the bed. He put it just inside the bathroom door, and went back into the main room. Feeling around on the dresser top for the ice bucket, he found it and took the tray underneath it too. That went into the bathroom as well.
He had to be much quieter in the kitchenette. In Daddy’s box of supplies, there was a magic marker and some string. He found a knife and some scissors, and then locked himself up in the bathroom.
Dean went to work on Sammy’s costume first. He took the pillowcase off the pillow, and laid it flat on the floor. He drew a face on it with the magic marker—big, wobbly eyes and a gaping mouth. He hoped Sammy would be able to see out of it okay. He drew the eyes even bigger, and cut holes out in the middle.
They… they didn’t look very good. Kind of jagged. Dean frowned. Maybe Daddy could make them better tomorrow. Dean cut an armhole in each side, trying to imagine where the pillowcase would fit on Sammy. He picked it up, admiring his work and turning it front to back. Uh-oh. The black marking pen had bled onto the back of the pillow case! It looked like some sort of echo of the face on the front. Dean examined it critically. Maybe that wasn’t so bad, actually. It looked even creepier than the front. He decided he liked it. Sammy was going to look wonderful.
His own costume would be harder. Dean pulled the ice bucket into his lap, turning it over and over in his hands. He picked up the knife carefully, and pushed it through the plastic surface.
Sawing roughly, he made a slit in it to see out of. It looked as uneven as the eyeholes in the ghost costume, but… it would be dark at night. And maybe Daddy could fix it. He set it aside.
He drew a picture on the back of the tray-- a cross surrounded by flames. And with the string and a bath towel, he made a good cape to drape down his back. Dean finally smiled, pleased with himself. He had all the hardest parts of his costume ready. And if Daddy couldn’t find him a sword, they could make one with cardboard and tin foil.
Dean gathered up the knife and scissors, putting them back into the supply box and out of Sammy’s reach. The marker and string went in there as well, and after stacking the costumes on the kitchen counter he turned off the bathroom light and crept back into bed.
John’s voice got through to him before the sunlight the next morning. “Up and at ‘em boys. Rise and shine.”
Dean rolled over in bed, squinting in the brightness. He remembered the costumes he’d made during the night, and wondered now if Daddy would be mad.
John sat down next to Dean, and patted his leg. “I see you were busy last night, little man.”
Dean’s stomach clenched with worry. He looked up under his eyelashes and asked shyly, “Is it okay?”
John laughed. “Yes, Dean, it’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t have it all ready for you beforehand, but I’m proud of you for taking the initiative.”
Dean perked up. “Then we can go out trick-or-treating?” he asked excitedly.
“Absolutely,” John said. “The two of you deserve it.” He chuckled then. “And the costumes kind of made your point.”
“Yay!” Dean bounced up and hugged John tightly. “You hear that, Sammy? We’re having Halloween today!”
Sammy looked over at Dean vaguely from where he was driving his truck on the floor. But when he saw his brother’s face he beamed in a reflection of Dean’s own happiness.
“Can we make a sword now, Daddy? Or buy one?”
John patted Dean’s back and smiled at his enthusiasm. “You’re my hero today, Dean. I will find you the sword you deserve.”
-------- fin -------
Happy Halloween, everyone!