Mouthy, by Seaoftrouble
Characters: Dean, Sam
Author's Website:
The prompt word was: Mouthy
At six thirty in the morning, when the first rays of sunlight filter through the musty motel curtains and the birds start chirping outside, Dean tries to rouse his sleeping brother. Sam answers by flipping him the bird and grumbling something that rhymes with 'duck stew'. Dean lets it go, chalking it up to Sammy not getting a good night's sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well and Dean suspected his brother was up to something, but Sammy wasn't divulging any information in that department.
Dean doesn't have time to give it much more thought. They have just enough time for breakfast before the County records office opened. They were investigating a run of the mill haunting at a local antique shop.
It was pretty clear early on that it had something to do with the copious amount of furniture and dishes and lamps and paintings and god knows what else that had been acquired from an estate sale. The haunting had started the very night the items had been unloaded into the back room of the shop. The recently deceased had been cremated after committing suicide. The whole town seemed to know that the old woman, Ms. Charles, was crazy and wasn't surprised by the news, but the owner of the antique shop, Merle, was convinced that the old woman's claims that she was being haunted were true.
At breakfast, Dean is, naturally, flirting with the waitress which seems to be annoying the younger Winchester more than usual.
“Thanks, sweetheart, you're a peach” Dean says in a voice just dripping with charm when the young blond brings them the check. She blushes and flashes a smile before disappearing to the kitchen.
When the girl retreats, Sam repeats Dean's comment with full blown mockery, his face scrunched up and lip curled. Dean calls that particular expression Sam's 'bitch face'
“Dude, are you actually mocking me?” Dean asks, more amused than irritated.
“Are you actually mocking me?” Same repeats.
“Ooookay, I'll take that as a yes” Dean says with a slightly confused look. He slips some bills into the check book and makes his way to the door.
“Aren't you astute” Sam grumbles as he follows Dean out. Dean tries to ignore the comment, still waiting for Sam to snap out of it.
After two hours of sifting through old obituaries at the county records office, the brothers finally had a lead.
“Sam, check this out” Dean said as he tossed his brother a file containing newspaper articles from nearly fifty years prior.
It turned out that when Ms. Charles was nineteen, her parents were involved in some sort of freak accident. The investigation into their deaths was officially labeled 'inconclusive'. She and her bother, then seventeen, inherited the family home and three other estates in the area, which they sold off not long after.
“I think mommy and daddy dearest were a little upset to be offed by their own kids. Looks like the brother still live in town” Dean said.
“Yeah, brilliant deduction there, Dean” Sam said, but his voice didn't hold the usually playfulness their banter usually had. He sounded like a smart alec teenager and it was starting to get on Dean's nerves.
“Could you lose the attitude, Sammy? It's getting old” Dean said warningly. Sam could PMS all he wanted when they weren't working, but he wasn't about to tolerate his attitude if it was going to interfere with the case.
“Whatever. Can we follow this lead now, or are you going to lecture me?” Sam retorted as he stood and walked away from his brother.
Dean took a deep breath and tried to ignore Sam, at least until they were done with the job. He was going to more than just lecture his brother if he kept it up.
At the home of said lead, Dean gives his brother a sidelong glance when he comments on the peeling paint and stacks of old newspapers on the porch of the old home.
“Sam, I don't want to tell you again. Stop acting like a mouthy little brat. Now” Dean warns as he knocks on the door again, hoping that the old woman's brother was still alive.
“What? I can't be in a bad mood? It's a hundred degrees outside this shit hole and I can't imagine how much worse it's going to be inside” Sam says, and he actually has his arms crossed.
Before Dean can respond, an elderly man in corduroy pants and a button up vest opens the door. The brothers can see that there are more stacks of newspapers lining the front room and there is a thick smell of dust and mold lingering in the air.
“Can I help you?” The old man asks, leaning heavily on the door for support. He has a can in one hand and his whole body seems to tremble.
“Yes, sir. Raymond Charles?” Dean asks, and the old man nods, “I'm detective Cook, this is my partner detective Clifford. We're investigating your sister's death”
“Oh, my dear Martha. She killed herself, what is there to investigate? Let her be at peace” Raymond says, his voice trembling.
“Yes sir, we just have some routine follow up questions” Dean says kindly.
The old man pauses for a moment, his gaze wandering, as if he was remembering something long forgotten before he shakes his head.
“Yes, of course, come in” Raymond says. The brothers follow him into the dark home, stepping over the newspapers and over filled boxes. It's clear that the man in a hoarder.
“Please, sit down” The man offers.
“Uh, where, exactly? Is there actually furniture under this pile of---” Before Sam can finish, Dean jabs him in the ribs. Luckily, Raymond didn't seem to hear him.
“It's okay, we won't be very long” Dean explains, “Did your sister have a history of mental illness?”
“Oh...she was always, troubled. When our mother and father passed, she was never quite the same” Raymond says.
“Yeah, murder will do that to a person” Sam says impudently.
“Pardon?” Raymond says, voice filled with confusion.
“Ah, that must have been very hard on you two, losing your parents at such a young age” Dean quickly says.
Raymond looks back a Dean, “Yes, yes it was. Financially, we were taken care of. We inherited the estates. But we would have traded it all to have one more day with our parents. We loved them dearly. Martha lost a part of herself when we lost them”
“How exactly did they die?” Dean asks.
“It was a car accident. They went off the road, way off the road, and into a creek bed. The police suspected that there could have been a problem with the vehicle or that my father had a heart attack or stroke, but there was so much damage to the car....and to them, we never knew for sure”
“Did Martha ever mention seeing strange things, or hearing anything?” Dean asks.
“Oh, she thought she saw our mother on many occasions. It was her way of coping, I suppose”
“Or a guilty conscience” Sam mumbles.
“Guilty? Guilty of what?” Raymond says“Martha would never hurt them!”
“Of course not---” Dean tries to diffuse the situation but Raymond is already standing and waving his cane at them.
“I head what people said about us, they always talked! We loved our parents. It was an accident! Get out of my house!” Raymond yells.
“Gladly” Sam says. Dean grabs him by the arm and pulls him out of the house, the old man still yelling behind them.
Dean isn't saying anything to Sam as they drive away from the house. He is clearly more than a little upset at his brother.
“Where are we going? Do we have another hoarder to visit?” Sam asks, and Dean can't believe Sam is still going with the snarky comments.
“You are going back to the motel, and them I'm finishing this case alone” Dean says flatly, keeping his eyes on the road.
“What? Why?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Because I've had enough of your attitude today, Sam, and I don't need your mouth getting us into trouble” Dean says, his voice a little louder this time.
“It's a free country, Dean. I can say whatever I want” Sam retorts.
“Go inside” Dean says as he pulls into the motel parking lot and stops in front of their room.
“No, I'm going with you” Sam says, crossing his arms.
Dean turns off the ignition and gets out of the car, making his way to the passengers side. He is starting to get a headache and is in no mood for Sam's games. He opens Sam's door and pulls him out
Sam tries to pull away, but Dean lands a hard smack to Sam's backside that stops his struggling. “I don't know what your problem is, Sammy, and believe me, we'll talk about it later, but right now you better get you ass in the room” Dean says as he pulls Sammy to the door.
“Oh screw you Dean” Sam growls.
Dean manages to get the key out and open the door while keeping his hold on his brother.
“That's it. I've tried being patient with you, but enough is enough” Dean states as he pulls Sam down and over his lap on the nearest bed. It's certainly not the first time that Sam has been over his big brothers lap, so it doesn't take long for Dean to have him effectively pinned.
“You're obviously not up to working this case right now,” Dean says as he begins to swat his brother.
“This is stupid, Dean, and a waste of time!” Sam says with his teeth clenched.
“No, Sam, what's stupid is how you've been acting,” Dean lectures, emphasizing each word with a hard smack, “What's a waste of time is your smart mouth. You got that poor old man riled up and we don't even have the facts yet. That's not like you, Sammy, and I'm not tolerating it” Dean keeps swatting Sam's sore backside without slowing his pace.
“Deeeeeaaan!” Sam whines as he continues to struggle. Dean is surprised that Sam's already crying.
“Your going to stay here while I finish this. Then we're going to talk, you understand me Sammy?” Dean asks, pausing and waiting for an answer. When the younger Winchester doesn't respond, Dean starts swatting him again.
“Sam? Do you understand me?” Dean asks again.
“Okay okay! I un-der-stand!”Sam chokes out. Dean stops spanking him and helps him up. Sam is still crying while Dean pulls back the blankets on the bed.
“Sammy, get some sleep. I know you could use it” Dean says, sitting Sam down. Sam turns away from his brother and buries his face in the pillows.
“I'll be back tonight” Dean says, pulling the blankets over Sam and ruffling his hair.
When Dean returns, it's well past midnight and Sam is still asleep. Dean tries not to make any noise, but he hears Sam stirring in his bed.
“Dean?” Sam asks, “How did it go?”
“It was Merle, not Martha and Raymond, that killed the parents” Dean says as he slips off his shoes.
“Merle? The shop owner?” Sam asks, sitting up and turning the bedside lamp on.
“Yeah. Turns out Mr. Charles had an affair. He was Merle's father. He paid the mistress off, but she died of pneumonia when Merle was only twelve. He lived in a foster home and I guess had a pretty rough time. He found out who is father was and he wanted revenge. I guess he blamed him for her death. He cut his break lines” Dean says before disappointed into the bathroom.
“Jesus. Wait, what about Martha? Why was she being haunted?” Sam calls to this brother.
“Her mother was trying to tell her who killed them” Dean says as he emerges out of the bathroom.
“So she was a friendly ghost?” Sam asks as Dean strips off all of his clothes except for his t-shirt and boxers.
“Not exactly, she was trying to kill Merle”
“Salt and burn, then?”
“Yep” Dean says, sitting on his bed and facing his brother.
“Oh. Um, sorry I wasn't there to help you” Sam says, his voice now quieter.
“What was up with you today?” Dean asks.
Sam doesn't answer and instead is more interested in the pattern of the dingy carpet.
“Sam, look at me” Dean says firmly. Once his brother meets his gaze he continues, “Why were you acting like a little brat all day?”
“I don't know, it was just a bad day” Sam says quietly.
“Why was it a bad day?” Dean asks.
“I didn't sleep very well and I woke up mad and I just got more and more annoyed. M' sorry” Sam says.
Dean hates seeing his brother looking so guilty and sad. He would rather see his bitch face than the kicked puppy look Sam was currently sporting.
“Well, next time you get mouthy with me, I'll wash your mouth out with soap” Dean says halfheartedly as he turns off the light.
“Wait, you're not serious, are you?” Sam asks, only slightly concerned and glad that Dean isn't still lecturing him.
Dean's only response is to laugh to himself. Sometimes Sammy was just too easy.
Author's Website:
The prompt word was: Mouthy
At six thirty in the morning, when the first rays of sunlight filter through the musty motel curtains and the birds start chirping outside, Dean tries to rouse his sleeping brother. Sam answers by flipping him the bird and grumbling something that rhymes with 'duck stew'. Dean lets it go, chalking it up to Sammy not getting a good night's sleep. He hadn't been sleeping well and Dean suspected his brother was up to something, but Sammy wasn't divulging any information in that department.
Dean doesn't have time to give it much more thought. They have just enough time for breakfast before the County records office opened. They were investigating a run of the mill haunting at a local antique shop.
It was pretty clear early on that it had something to do with the copious amount of furniture and dishes and lamps and paintings and god knows what else that had been acquired from an estate sale. The haunting had started the very night the items had been unloaded into the back room of the shop. The recently deceased had been cremated after committing suicide. The whole town seemed to know that the old woman, Ms. Charles, was crazy and wasn't surprised by the news, but the owner of the antique shop, Merle, was convinced that the old woman's claims that she was being haunted were true.
At breakfast, Dean is, naturally, flirting with the waitress which seems to be annoying the younger Winchester more than usual.
“Thanks, sweetheart, you're a peach” Dean says in a voice just dripping with charm when the young blond brings them the check. She blushes and flashes a smile before disappearing to the kitchen.
When the girl retreats, Sam repeats Dean's comment with full blown mockery, his face scrunched up and lip curled. Dean calls that particular expression Sam's 'bitch face'
“Dude, are you actually mocking me?” Dean asks, more amused than irritated.
“Are you actually mocking me?” Same repeats.
“Ooookay, I'll take that as a yes” Dean says with a slightly confused look. He slips some bills into the check book and makes his way to the door.
“Aren't you astute” Sam grumbles as he follows Dean out. Dean tries to ignore the comment, still waiting for Sam to snap out of it.
After two hours of sifting through old obituaries at the county records office, the brothers finally had a lead.
“Sam, check this out” Dean said as he tossed his brother a file containing newspaper articles from nearly fifty years prior.
It turned out that when Ms. Charles was nineteen, her parents were involved in some sort of freak accident. The investigation into their deaths was officially labeled 'inconclusive'. She and her bother, then seventeen, inherited the family home and three other estates in the area, which they sold off not long after.
“I think mommy and daddy dearest were a little upset to be offed by their own kids. Looks like the brother still live in town” Dean said.
“Yeah, brilliant deduction there, Dean” Sam said, but his voice didn't hold the usually playfulness their banter usually had. He sounded like a smart alec teenager and it was starting to get on Dean's nerves.
“Could you lose the attitude, Sammy? It's getting old” Dean said warningly. Sam could PMS all he wanted when they weren't working, but he wasn't about to tolerate his attitude if it was going to interfere with the case.
“Whatever. Can we follow this lead now, or are you going to lecture me?” Sam retorted as he stood and walked away from his brother.
Dean took a deep breath and tried to ignore Sam, at least until they were done with the job. He was going to more than just lecture his brother if he kept it up.
At the home of said lead, Dean gives his brother a sidelong glance when he comments on the peeling paint and stacks of old newspapers on the porch of the old home.
“Sam, I don't want to tell you again. Stop acting like a mouthy little brat. Now” Dean warns as he knocks on the door again, hoping that the old woman's brother was still alive.
“What? I can't be in a bad mood? It's a hundred degrees outside this shit hole and I can't imagine how much worse it's going to be inside” Sam says, and he actually has his arms crossed.
Before Dean can respond, an elderly man in corduroy pants and a button up vest opens the door. The brothers can see that there are more stacks of newspapers lining the front room and there is a thick smell of dust and mold lingering in the air.
“Can I help you?” The old man asks, leaning heavily on the door for support. He has a can in one hand and his whole body seems to tremble.
“Yes, sir. Raymond Charles?” Dean asks, and the old man nods, “I'm detective Cook, this is my partner detective Clifford. We're investigating your sister's death”
“Oh, my dear Martha. She killed herself, what is there to investigate? Let her be at peace” Raymond says, his voice trembling.
“Yes sir, we just have some routine follow up questions” Dean says kindly.
The old man pauses for a moment, his gaze wandering, as if he was remembering something long forgotten before he shakes his head.
“Yes, of course, come in” Raymond says. The brothers follow him into the dark home, stepping over the newspapers and over filled boxes. It's clear that the man in a hoarder.
“Please, sit down” The man offers.
“Uh, where, exactly? Is there actually furniture under this pile of---” Before Sam can finish, Dean jabs him in the ribs. Luckily, Raymond didn't seem to hear him.
“It's okay, we won't be very long” Dean explains, “Did your sister have a history of mental illness?”
“Oh...she was always, troubled. When our mother and father passed, she was never quite the same” Raymond says.
“Yeah, murder will do that to a person” Sam says impudently.
“Pardon?” Raymond says, voice filled with confusion.
“Ah, that must have been very hard on you two, losing your parents at such a young age” Dean quickly says.
Raymond looks back a Dean, “Yes, yes it was. Financially, we were taken care of. We inherited the estates. But we would have traded it all to have one more day with our parents. We loved them dearly. Martha lost a part of herself when we lost them”
“How exactly did they die?” Dean asks.
“It was a car accident. They went off the road, way off the road, and into a creek bed. The police suspected that there could have been a problem with the vehicle or that my father had a heart attack or stroke, but there was so much damage to the car....and to them, we never knew for sure”
“Did Martha ever mention seeing strange things, or hearing anything?” Dean asks.
“Oh, she thought she saw our mother on many occasions. It was her way of coping, I suppose”
“Or a guilty conscience” Sam mumbles.
“Guilty? Guilty of what?” Raymond says“Martha would never hurt them!”
“Of course not---” Dean tries to diffuse the situation but Raymond is already standing and waving his cane at them.
“I head what people said about us, they always talked! We loved our parents. It was an accident! Get out of my house!” Raymond yells.
“Gladly” Sam says. Dean grabs him by the arm and pulls him out of the house, the old man still yelling behind them.
Dean isn't saying anything to Sam as they drive away from the house. He is clearly more than a little upset at his brother.
“Where are we going? Do we have another hoarder to visit?” Sam asks, and Dean can't believe Sam is still going with the snarky comments.
“You are going back to the motel, and them I'm finishing this case alone” Dean says flatly, keeping his eyes on the road.
“What? Why?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Because I've had enough of your attitude today, Sam, and I don't need your mouth getting us into trouble” Dean says, his voice a little louder this time.
“It's a free country, Dean. I can say whatever I want” Sam retorts.
“Go inside” Dean says as he pulls into the motel parking lot and stops in front of their room.
“No, I'm going with you” Sam says, crossing his arms.
Dean turns off the ignition and gets out of the car, making his way to the passengers side. He is starting to get a headache and is in no mood for Sam's games. He opens Sam's door and pulls him out
Sam tries to pull away, but Dean lands a hard smack to Sam's backside that stops his struggling. “I don't know what your problem is, Sammy, and believe me, we'll talk about it later, but right now you better get you ass in the room” Dean says as he pulls Sammy to the door.
“Oh screw you Dean” Sam growls.
Dean manages to get the key out and open the door while keeping his hold on his brother.
“That's it. I've tried being patient with you, but enough is enough” Dean states as he pulls Sam down and over his lap on the nearest bed. It's certainly not the first time that Sam has been over his big brothers lap, so it doesn't take long for Dean to have him effectively pinned.
“You're obviously not up to working this case right now,” Dean says as he begins to swat his brother.
“This is stupid, Dean, and a waste of time!” Sam says with his teeth clenched.
“No, Sam, what's stupid is how you've been acting,” Dean lectures, emphasizing each word with a hard smack, “What's a waste of time is your smart mouth. You got that poor old man riled up and we don't even have the facts yet. That's not like you, Sammy, and I'm not tolerating it” Dean keeps swatting Sam's sore backside without slowing his pace.
“Deeeeeaaan!” Sam whines as he continues to struggle. Dean is surprised that Sam's already crying.
“Your going to stay here while I finish this. Then we're going to talk, you understand me Sammy?” Dean asks, pausing and waiting for an answer. When the younger Winchester doesn't respond, Dean starts swatting him again.
“Sam? Do you understand me?” Dean asks again.
“Okay okay! I un-der-stand!”Sam chokes out. Dean stops spanking him and helps him up. Sam is still crying while Dean pulls back the blankets on the bed.
“Sammy, get some sleep. I know you could use it” Dean says, sitting Sam down. Sam turns away from his brother and buries his face in the pillows.
“I'll be back tonight” Dean says, pulling the blankets over Sam and ruffling his hair.
When Dean returns, it's well past midnight and Sam is still asleep. Dean tries not to make any noise, but he hears Sam stirring in his bed.
“Dean?” Sam asks, “How did it go?”
“It was Merle, not Martha and Raymond, that killed the parents” Dean says as he slips off his shoes.
“Merle? The shop owner?” Sam asks, sitting up and turning the bedside lamp on.
“Yeah. Turns out Mr. Charles had an affair. He was Merle's father. He paid the mistress off, but she died of pneumonia when Merle was only twelve. He lived in a foster home and I guess had a pretty rough time. He found out who is father was and he wanted revenge. I guess he blamed him for her death. He cut his break lines” Dean says before disappointed into the bathroom.
“Jesus. Wait, what about Martha? Why was she being haunted?” Sam calls to this brother.
“Her mother was trying to tell her who killed them” Dean says as he emerges out of the bathroom.
“So she was a friendly ghost?” Sam asks as Dean strips off all of his clothes except for his t-shirt and boxers.
“Not exactly, she was trying to kill Merle”
“Salt and burn, then?”
“Yep” Dean says, sitting on his bed and facing his brother.
“Oh. Um, sorry I wasn't there to help you” Sam says, his voice now quieter.
“What was up with you today?” Dean asks.
Sam doesn't answer and instead is more interested in the pattern of the dingy carpet.
“Sam, look at me” Dean says firmly. Once his brother meets his gaze he continues, “Why were you acting like a little brat all day?”
“I don't know, it was just a bad day” Sam says quietly.
“Why was it a bad day?” Dean asks.
“I didn't sleep very well and I woke up mad and I just got more and more annoyed. M' sorry” Sam says.
Dean hates seeing his brother looking so guilty and sad. He would rather see his bitch face than the kicked puppy look Sam was currently sporting.
“Well, next time you get mouthy with me, I'll wash your mouth out with soap” Dean says halfheartedly as he turns off the light.
“Wait, you're not serious, are you?” Sam asks, only slightly concerned and glad that Dean isn't still lecturing him.
Dean's only response is to laugh to himself. Sometimes Sammy was just too easy.
