77th Hunt [Video | Action for those in the house]

[dudeimbatman]

[The device is nudged and turns on accidentally. There's a sleepy yawn coming from the bundle of blankets on the bed. After a moment a head emerges, the spiky hair and freckled face of a little boy. If one looks closely though, it's clear that this is still Dean. He's simply eight years old today rather than thirty two. He looks a bit confused as he crawls out of bed, barely catching the sweatpants at the waist. They're much too big for him.]

Sam! Sammy!

[He was pretty sure when he crawled into bed that night, Sam was already asleep. He pads into the bathroom.] Sam! Where'd you wander off to?

[And that tone of voice, that is eight year old panic. Dean rushes back into the room and reaches under the bed, grabbing the sawed off shotgun there. Yes, even at eight he kept a sawed off shotgun under the bed.]

Comments

[Action forever!]

[angelsrwatchng.livejournal.com]

[If her kids were normal than Mary would be storming those stairs right now to find what appears to be her eight-year-old son but he's got a shotgun. Rock salt hurts and doesn't kill but she'll give him a heads-up before putting herself at the other end of it.

So she's calling up the stairs.]

Dean Michael Winchester, put that gun down this instant!

[Action forever!]

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

[Even if he didn't remember that voice--which he doesn't, not exactly. He's fairly sure he's dreamed up everything he knows about his mother--the tone of it and the use of all three names would make him hesitate. He takes several steps back, bends his knees and slides the gun back under the bed. He opens the nightstand drawer and gets a bottle of holy water out and a little plastic bottle of salt. Yeah, he's kept those things close for that long. You do not mess around with this stuff when you're a Winchester.]

Mom?

[His voice betrays his true feelings, crumbles his bluster and doesn't match with his actions. It quivers a little, pitches a bit too high and sounds a little plaintive. He hopes it's Mom but he knows it can't ever be, hence the holy water and the salt.]

[angelsrwatchng.livejournal.com]

[It was all of the shuffling sounds that made Mary think he'd put the gun away. Anything else she could handle, especially knowing that she'd never lived to turn him see five. With that in mind she heads up the stairs, making sure to make her footsteps heard so as not to frighten him even more. A brief knock on the door before she pushes it open even if she doesn't encroach on his space. It'll give him a moment to preform his tests.]

Hello, sweetheart.

[It's said softly, lovingly and with a small smile on her face.]

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

[Sorry, Mary but he's going to toss salt at you then throw holy water at you then blink a good deal with that doesn't affect you at all.

It can't be. He knows. He was there and besides if she were out there alive, Dad would have found her by now.]

Mom?

[His voice is even more panicked, terrified even because he doesn't know how to deal with this. Even at eight he can handle spirits. What he can't handle are real mothers come back from the dead.]

[angelsrwatchng.livejournal.com]

[She expected the salt and the holy water, maybe even a silver knife and just sort of brushes it off as best she can.]

It's really me, Dean.

[Now she takes a few steps into the room and stops at arm's length before she kneels in front of him.]

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

[Give him a minute because he's going to get teary here and then he's going to suck that up because men don't cry and John's made it clear, Dean is a man. He bites his bottom lip hard, fighting back the tears and nods. Once he's got it under control he nearly runs to her, arms going around her neck, face against her shoulder so that if he does get teary again, no one will know.]

[angelsrwatchng.livejournal.com]

[If Mary knew all of that 'being a man at age 8' she'd have the urge to hit John. For now she just gathers up her son in her arms and holds him tightly. One hand is rubbing his back affectionately.]

It's okay, sweetheart.

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

[He just hugs onto her as tightly as he can for a long moment. When he finally pulls away just enough to look at her, his eyes are wet and he's a bit snifflely but he is not crying. That's for babies like Sam.]

How are you alive?

[angelsrwatchng.livejournal.com]

[Mary keeps one arm around him while her other hand brushes across his cheek while giving him a smile.]

It's complicated. Let's just say that this city we're in lets us stay together like this.

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

[That gets a bit of a smile out of him.]

Where's Sam? I'm supposed to be watching him.

[angelsrwatchng.livejournal.com]

He's here, I'm looking after him too. [Pause.] Sammy may be older than you right now. Another thing this place does.

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

[Dean visibly relaxes when Mary says that Sam is here too. He can't help it. For four years taking care of Sam has been Dean's first priority.]

Older than me? [That doesn't make any sense to him. His stomach growls a bit--he did just wake up--and he looks bashful.] Have we got cereal?

[angelsrwatchng.livejournal.com]

[It's nice to know that Dean has always been looking after Sam, especially with John off hunting. Her little boy has taken care of her sometimes too.]

Maybe. I haven't seen him get out of bed today so his age will be like a surprise to both of us. [Laughing lightly.] How about we have waffles instead? [Because cereal is fine if older!Dean gets up before she does or as a midnight snack but Mary does try to make breakfast for the household.]

[dude-imbatman.livejournal.com]

[The mention of waffles gets a big grin out of him.] Really? Can we put lots of syrup and butter on them?

[He's officially distracted from whether Sam will be grown or little when he wakes up.]