It’s not much and it’s probably not that great, but I wrote a supernatural thingy:

“This is so stupid Dean. I’m not a little kid anymore.” Sam glared up at his big brother.

“Dude, It’s Halloween. Free candy day.” Dean jammed the hat on his little brother’s head. He was wearing last spring’s t-ball uniform from four towns ago. The fact that it still fit wasn’t helping his mood any.

“How come you’re not dressing up?” Sam slouched his way out the motel door behind his brother.

“Just your chaperone,” grinned Dean. “Unless you want me to grab that clown wig I saw…”

Sam visibly shivered. “Whatever. I’m not holding your hand when we cross the street though.”

There was a neighborhood just a few blocks from the motel. Dean watched kids running up and down the streets with parents or older siblings tagging along behind. Sam might have been ten, but he was still cute enough to score them extra candy at a few houses while Dean lingered behind and smiled at the high school girls. Sam just rolled his eyes and dutifully rang doorbells until they reached a falling down, dark house at the end of the street.

“You don’t want to go in there, that’s the Witch’s house,” said one boy as they looked at it.

“Oh yeah?” Dean stood up a little straighter.

“Yeah. And last Halloween some girl hung herself in there.”

“Really.” Dean eyed the house while Sam rolled his eyes again. “Thanks. We should probably head home anyway.”

They headed back to the hotel. Sam shoved the bag of candy at Dean. “I know you want it anyway. Are we really going to investigate a house on Halloween? Without Dad?”

Dean popped a candy in his mouth. “Why not? Probably just kids telling stories anyway.”

Posted my last two chapters of Concussion, this time going to John Winchester’s POV. If you’d like me to write more kidfic, drop a comment or let me know 🙂

I posted 2 more chapters on my kid!winchester fic, Concussion on AO3.  Switiching to Deans POV and now it looks like Dean may have a friend after all…and a job.

Teaser for Chapter 3 behind the cut

Dean went back to school the following day. He still had headaches, but he was doing his best to ignore them. No need to worry Dad with it. Besides, Dad had taken off again early this morning to finish whatever job they’d interrupted. Sam watched him with worry while they got ready for school, but they hadn’t talked.

Now Dean was walking down the hall. He could see the looks he was getting and ignored them, going to his locker. Pulling it open he was greeted by ‘fag’ sprayed in big letters across the inside door and everything in his locker tossed around. At least he didn’t keep much in here. Grabbing his books, he slammed it closed, the noise making his head ring a little.

“Hey Winchester.” Dean turned and someone shoved into him, knocking him into the lockers. They laughed as they walked off. Gritting his teeth, Dean gathered his stuff and headed for his first class. Sam wanted to finish the school year in one place, he could survive a few more months of this. He’d never been as good at making friends as Sam was; lately he’d stopped trying.

More on AO3

Since I’m still on a young Winchester kick, I started a new story on AO3. Not sure how many chapters  it’ll be.

Sam came home scared one day because Dean wasn’t waiting for him at the bus stop. He found him hurt and called Bobby for help. Dad came home a few hours later. But are Dean’s problems with the bullies really over?

And a little preview of chapter one below the cut: 

It was a snowy day as Sam hurried home, worried and scared. They had an apartment for once and Dad said they might even stay here until the school year ended. Right now Dad was gone, left four days ago. But that wasn’t what hurried Sam’s steps.

The door was unlocked as Sam pushed it open. His heart in his throat he called out his brother’s name. “Dean?”

He wasn’t in the living room, so Sam looked in the bedroom they were sharing. “Dean?” His brother sat at the end of the bed, looking dazed. There was blood on his shirt and the side of his face. As Sam got closer he could see there was blood in his hair too. Sam reached over and touched his arm. “Dean? You weren’t at the bus stop.”  Ever since Sam had started school, Dean had never failed to be waiting for Sam at the bus stop, even if he got out of school at a different time.

Dean blinked slowly. “Slipped on the ice,” he mumbled, not quite raising his head.

Sam bit his lip, not quite believing him. “You just stay here,” he said quietly, hurrying back into the kitchen where the phone was on the wall. Shaking, he picked up the receiver and called one of the numbers he’d memorized. After two rings, Bobby picked up. “Hello.”

Concussion