The Buttcrack of Dawn

~200 words :: Supernatural :: Sam, Dean :: 8/28/07
“I don’t think you’re allowed to have coffee,” Sammy says, only he’s got most of a doughnut in his mouth, so Dean’s mostly guessing by the tone and suspicious squint that that’s what he meant.


“I don’t think you’re allowed to have coffee,” Sammy says, only he’s got most of a doughnut in his mouth, so Dean’s mostly guessing by the tone and suspicious squint that that’s what he meant.

“I am if you’re gonna drag me out of bed at the buttcrack of dawn to get you doughnuts,” he says, and Sammy giggles, which quickly turns to choking and then, after Dean gives him a few thumps on the back, a mess of half-chewed gunk on the sidewalk. “Jeez. See? That’s why I told you to wait’ll we got back to the motel to eat.”

Sammy scrubs at his mouth with the neck of his t-shirt and makes a grab for the bag, but Dean just elbows him in the ribs and holds it up over his head out of reach. “Dude, what did I just say?”

The way Sammy hops and jumps and flails around trying to get at it does wonders for Dean’s mood, and he holds the bag out of reach the rest of the way back to the motel. After all, Sammy’s one freakishly-tall ten-year-old, so Dean’d better enjoy being taller while he can.