Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-02-17 11:33 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-02-17 11:33 pm
Dean - Family Ties
this was intended to be a oneshot. really, it was. it just--exploded.
Fandom: CSI:NY/Supernatural
Title: Family Ties
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Lindsay Monroe, Jennifer Angell, Don Flack, with cameo appearances from John Winchester wee!Sam, Dean, and Lindsay, as well as Lindsay's parents.
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: Dean finds him in a bit of a predicament, and goes in search of a different member of his family.
Author's Note: I think this is going to be part of another Supernatural crossover series, just because I liked the way this turned out. Written for the Lost Ages Crossover Challenge over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sn_crossovers. I think it kinda...died...but the bunny wouldn't go away, so since I wrote it, I decided to post it. I have to credit venetia_sassy with the cousin!Lindsay bunny, because without her saying something, I probably wouldn't have come up with it. Italics are flashbacks.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY or Supernatural. They're owned by CBS and the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please don't use them without my permission.
Chapter 1
Well, this sucked.
He glanced around the bullpen of the precinct, trying to find the face he was looking for, but being at this vantage point was making it kind of hard. He had always hated being shorter than everyone, which made living with Sam a complete pain in the ass. But now he was really shorter than everyone, and it just—well—sucked.
And it wasn’t just that he was a midget. He actually looked like he was five freakin’ years-old. When he caught the sonuva bitch that did this to him, he wasn’t going to kill it; he was going to beat the ever living shit out of it.
And then he was going to kill it.
But right now he had to find someone that would actually believe him when he said that he was a twenty-seven year-old man trapped in a five year-old version of himself. And since he had lost Sam somewhere on the streets of New York, he only had one choice left, but it didn’t help matters that he hadn’t seen her in years. But it’s not like there was anything else he could do about it. He continued to wander further into the bullpen, and turned suddenly when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Well, hello.
“Easy there, little guy,” a tall, dark haired woman was crouching down behind him, giving him a smile, “I’m just here to help you out.”
Dean turned on his best smile, “How ya doin’?”
Officer Jennifer Angell was taken aback by how—grown-up—the kid sounded, “I’m Officer Angell.”
“‘Angel’ sure is right, sweetheart.”
Jennifer laughed, “What’s your name?”
“Dean,” he nodded.
“So—what brings you all the way down here, Dean?”
“Lookin’ for a pretty girl like you,” he charmed back, and Jennifer just laughed harder at him. He frowned slightly. That wasn’t the reaction he usually got when he landed that line, but then he looked down, and remembered.
Oh, yeah. He’s freakin’ five.
“Well, aren’t you the cuteset little—” Jennifer replied, “That’s very sweet of you. But I think you might be looking for something else.”
“Actually, I’m looking for my cousin, Lindsay Monroe,” he sighed, “Do you know her?”
“I do,” she nodded, “And you are in the wrong building.”
“I am?” he frowned, confused, “But this is the police station—”
“Yes it is,” she nodded, “But Lindsay is a CSI. Which means she works in the crimelab.” Jennifer got back on her feet and extended her hand to him, “Why don’t you let me take you over there?” The confusion only increased when the kid gave her his biggest grin and took her hand without question. What? No protest? No cooties? She only shrugged it off, before leading little Dean out the door and right to the crimelab.
***
“Lindsay?” Nine year-old Lindsay looked up from the dolls she was playing with, and turned to see her mother standing in the bedroom doorway, with two little boys. One she was holding in her arms, and the other she had by the had, although the boy didn’t seem to be very fond of the idea.
“Yes, Momma?” she said.
“You remember your Aunt Mary, don’t you?” Lindsay nodded and her mother continued, “Well, this is your cousin, Dean—” she gestured to the boy who’s hand she was holding, and then turned to the one in her arms, “—and this is your cousin, Sammy.”
“Hi,” Lindsay said, and Dean gave her a small wave.
“They’re gonna be stayin’ with us for a little while,” her mother continued, “So I want you to be nice, and share all your toys with them, alright?”
“Yes, Momma,” she nodded, before Harriet let Dean’s hand go, and then walked over and placed Sam down on the ground next to Lindsay.
“You have to watch Sammy,” Dean said quietly, and Sam leaned over, thick dark hair falling in his face as reached for a toy, “He puts everything in his mouth.”
“All babies do that,” she replied, “My friend Nikki—her baby sister does it all the time.”
“Oh,” Dean said. There was a pause, and then he continued, “How old are you?”
“Nine. You?”
“I’m five,” he replied, “Sammy’s only one.” Lindsay nodded, before studying the boy again, trying to figure out what to do with him. She hesitated for a second, before handing a Barbie doll to him, “You wanna play?”
“Ew, no,” he said, pulling away, “Dolls are for girls.”
“Duh,” she said, before pointing to herself, “I’m a girl.”
“Well—don’t you have any trucks or cars or anything?”
“No,” she said, giving him a look, “Trucks are for boys.” He turned and looked at her, and she could almost predict the response before it came out of his mouth.
“Duh.”
Lindsay Monroe froze when she spotted the little boy holding Angell’s hand. She just stopped and stared. There’s no way that that could be who she thought it was. It was just—impossible—but apparently—it had to be. There was no other explanation for the five year-old spitting image of her cousin Dean, looking around the room like he was searching for someone familiar. She blinked slightly, but didn’t move, wondering what kind of—explanation—Dean was going to have for her.
“You alright, Montana?” Danny asked as he came up behind her, and Lindsay shook her head slowly, as though coming out of a trance.
“Yeah, I’m just—surprised,” she replied, before moving towards where Angell and Dean were standing. She tilted her head slightly, before speaking. “Dean?”
The little boy turned around, and threw his arms around Lindsay’s legs, “Lindsay, thank God!” Her legs buckled slightly, but she didn’t topple onto him.
“So you do know this kid?” Angell asked, and she nodded.
“He’s my cousin,” Lindsay replied. She then crouched down in front of him, a confused look on her face, “Dean? What are you doing here?” Why do you look like you’re five?
“Umm—” he glanced over at Angell, before continuing, “I kinda—got lost, and I knew that you were a cop in the city, so I figured I’d go to the police station and—”
“You know what, why don’t we go over to the break room and get you something to eat, OK?” She stood up and extended her hand to him, and he shot her a look.
“I don’t need to hold your freakin’ hand,” he growled so that only she could hear, “I’m twenty-seven years-old for cryin’ out loud.”
“Yeah, but you look like your five so deal with it,” she bit back, and watched as his face turned into a pout, and her hand slipped into his.
Chapter 2
“You have to hold my hand, Dean,” Nine year-old Lindsay said as she took Dean’s hand in hers, clutching it tightly, “Or else the cars’ll squash you like a pancake.”
“But I don’t wanna hold your hand,” the five year-old boy whined, watching as she took Sam’s hand in the other, “You have cooties!”
“Ew! No, I don’t!” she said, giving him a look, “Everyone knows that the boys are the one’s that have cooties.”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Lindsay! Dean!” They both looked up and saw Lindsay’s father leaning over them, before scooping up little Sam into his arms, “If you two don’t shut your yaps about it, Sammy here’s gonna be the only one that gets any candy. You understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Yes, Uncle Rick.”
“Now, Dean, hold Lindsay’s hand until we get across the street.” Dean obediently did so, a sullen look on his face.
“What’s Sammy gonna do with the candy?” he muttered, “He can’t eat it. He barely has any teeth—”
“So—” she began, placing a cup of water and a sandwich down in front of him, “What’s goin’ on? Where’s Uncle John?” Dean looked up at her uncertainly, before responding.
“You didn’t hear?”
“Didn’t hear what?”
“He’s dead, Lindsay,” Dean replied, and she closed her eyes, letting the news wash over her, before turning back to look at him.
“For how long?”
“A few months.”
“What—what killed him?” she asked, finding the news a bit hard to swallow. Uncle John? Dead?—Impossible.
Dean paused for a minute, before responding, “Car accident.”
“Oh,” she sighed, “Well, that wasn’t how I thought he would go down.”
“Yeah,” Dean said, looking away from her slightly, “Me either.”
Lindsay shook her head before moving on, “Well—are you in the city by yourself?”
“No,” he shook his head, “Sammy’s here. I just—lost him.”
“Does he have a cell phone?” she asked, before pulling out her own.
“Yeah,” he nodded, before rambling off the number. She listened to it ring, and the frowned at Dean.
“I thought he was at Stanford.”
A smug grin crossed his face, and he shook his head, “I knew you two kept in touch.”
“So what happened?”
“Things got stressful. He decided to take a semester off.”
“Oh,” Lindsay sighed, “I see.”
“He’s still a geek, though,” Dean shook his head, “And you’re a scientist?”
“Criminalist,” she corrected.
“But you still use science, right?”
“Yes.”
“Geek.”
“Watch it, little cousin,” she teased, listening to Sam’s machine as it picked up, “For the first time in a long time, I’m taller than you are.”
Dean remained silent but the grin remained on his face. He waited till she finished leaving her message before responding, “You’re gonna cry when you see Sammy. He’s like the Jolly Green Giant.”
Lindsay rolled her eyes. She then pushed at the sandwich she made him, “Eat.”
“Not hungry.”
“I made it for you.”
“That’s why.” Lindsay shot him a glare before getting up.
“Stay put. I’ll get someone to come in and sit with you.”
Dean’s head perked up at that, “Lindsay, if you love me at all, make sure it’s—”
“Hey, Flack!”
“No, no!” he complained, giving her a look.
Don Flack appeared in the doorway, and shrugged, “What can I do for ya, Monroe?”
“You busy?”
“Was just about to grab lunch.”
“Mind eating with him?” she asked, pointing to Dean, “It should only be a little bit, till I get a hold of his brother, but I have to get back to work.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Flack nodded, “I’ll sit with the little guy.”
“Great, thanks,” she said, before walking out of the room. Flack walked over to the breakroom fridge and grabbed his lunch, before sitting down across from Dean.
“So—” he began slowly, “How do you know Lindsay?”
“She’s my cousin,” Dean replied.
“Oh,” Flack nodded, before pausing for a moment, “So—great weather we’ve been having, huh?” Dean closed his eyes, and then started to bang his forehead lightly on the table.
Chapter 3
“Hey Lindsay,” nine year-old Sam walked over, sitting down next to her at the kitchen counter. The Winchesters were passing through on their way to their next makeshift home, and seventeen year-old Lindsay was sitting at the table, pouring over the books in front of her. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Physics,” she replied with a groan.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a kind of science,” she replied, “With a lot of math.”
“Can I see?” he asked, and she gave him a skeptical look, before pushing the book in his direction.
“Knock yourself out, Sammy.” Sam leaned over to read the book, when loud voices were suddenly heard coming from the direction of the living room.
“—forgive me for thinking that those boys should have a home!” Lindsay’s mother’s voice echoed through the doorway, “They’re children, John. What you’re exposing them too—you’re going to make them grow up too fast.”
“They’re my children, Harriet,” John roared back, “They’re all I have left, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna lose them to what’s out there. They’re gonna be ready for whatever comes after them.”
“Well, what are they going to do with their lives, John?” Harriet said, glaring at him, “This? Run credit card scams and fraud while driving all over the country searching for God knows what?”
“I do it,” John replied, “I’m saving lives.”
“But that’s not a life, John,” she replied, and the argument faded into the background, when Lindsay felt Sam’s hand on her arm, and heard the soft voice next to her.
“Hey, Lindsay?” he asked as she turned to him, “Will you teach me physics?” She laughed slightly before nodding.
“Sure, Sammy. I’ll teach you physics.”
Lindsay laughed out loud when she saw the tall man standing at reception waiting for her. When Dean said Sam had turned into the Jolly Green Giant, he hadn’t been kidding. Sam turned to her with a smile, but was slightly confused.
“What?” he asked, “That happy to see me?”
She shook her head no, with a slight pout, “Just remembering a time when I used to be the tallest out of the three of us.”
“Dean told you I grew?”
“He told me I was going to cry when I saw you,” Lindsay replied, “I think I still might.” She then held out her hands to him, gesturing for him to come forward, “C’mon, College Boy. Give me a hug.”
He did as he was told and she pulled back and then led the way down the hallway. “How was Stanford?” she asked.
“Pretty good,” Sam nodded, “It was hard in the beginning, but—I got there.”
“Good,” Lindsay nodded, “Wanna tell me how Dean became trapped in his five year-old self?”
Sam smirked, “We were chasing some kind of witch thing. It cast a spell that de-aged whoever was in front of them. And Dean being Dean—”
“Ran in, guns blazing, and suddenly found himself in an earlier time,” Lindsay sighed.
“Exactly,” Sam nodded, “We were going after the thing to try and get it to change him back, but I lost him in the crowd or something.”
Lindsay shrugged, “At least he knew to come here, instead of trying to find you on his own.” She gave her cousin a smirk, “He has gotten smarter since I saw him last.”
“Yeah—apparently some things are capable of sticking,” Sam grinned. He then looked over at Lindsay. “So—you got out of Montana.”
“I got out of Montana,” she nodded, “And now I’m here.”
“Well, I have to say,” Sam sighed, “I think I prefer this to Montana.”
“So do I,” Lindsay said, “It’s a pretty awesome place to be.”
“Good,” Sam nodded, before getting down to business, “So—where is mini-Dean?”
“Breakroom,” she replied before leading the way. They arrived and Dean shot Sam an angry look.
“What took you so long?”
“Sorry,” Sam said defensively, “But the Impala is not necessarily the easiest thing to navigate in Midtown traffic.”
“You were driving my car in this?” Dean said, glaring at his brother, “I swear to God, Sam, if there’s one dent on that car—”
“His car?” Flack frowned, confused.
“It’s—going to be his,” Lindsay stammered, covering for Dean, “When he gets old enough to drive it.”
Dean ran a hand over his face, “Can we just go, please?”
“Sure, yeah,” Sam nodded with a grin, “Let’s go. I’ll see you later, Linds.”
They disappeared out the door, and Flack turned to Lindsay with a look on his face. “So that’s your—cousin?”
“Yup,” Lindsay nodded.
“No offense to your family, Monroe—but that is one weird kid.”
“None taken, Flack,” Lindsay laughed, “Really.”
Chapter 4
“Dean! Stay still!” Lindsay scolded as she grabbed him by the chin, holding his head in place.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to move if it didn’t sting like a bitch,” he shouted back at her, wincing as she placed the alcohol pad against his head again.
“Well, it’s alcohol,” Lindsay replied, “If it stings that means it’s doing it’s job.” He rolled his eyes at her, hissing when she reapplied it, cleaning the cut on his head. After she bandaged him up, she let him go, stepping back and crossing her arms across her chest. “Do I even want to know how you got this one?”
“No,” he replied, the same answer he gave every time, because he knew she already knew.
“That’s what I thought,” she sighed, walking away from him into the living room. She stopped at the linen closet, and grabbed some sheets and pillows, heading over to make up the couch.
“You wanna tell me something,” he said, following her.
“What?” she frowned, turning to look at him.
“You didn’t press the issue,” Dean sighed, “Which means you have something you have to tell me, and I’m not gonna like it.”
She pursed her lips slightly, before speaking, “Where’s your dad, anyway?”
“Since when do you care,” he accused, giving her a look.
“Dean—”
“Just fuckin’ spit it out, Lindsay,” he said, as she turned to face him, “Don’t just dance around it like I’m a little kid.”
“I’m leaving Montana.” The words were practically a whisper, but he heard them, and his face became less angry and more dejected.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet,” she sighed, “I’ve put in transfers to anywhere and everywhere I can think of. I just—I need to get out of Bozeman.”
“I know,” he replied softly, before going to sit down on the couch.
She gave him a small smile, before walking over and sitting down next to him, “You know no matter where I go, you can always sleep on my couch.”
“I know,” he said, giving her a smile, “It’s just—it’s gonna be weird, you know?”
“Yeah,” she said, “I know.”
She smiled when she saw the young man sitting at her desk, holding a framed photograph in his hand, just staring at it. She knew exactly what picture it was, without even having to see it, because it was the only one that he would have remotely recognized anyone in.
“Looks like you’re back to your normal self,” she said with a smirk.
“Yeah,” he murmured. When he looked up and saw her, he shook his head. “I thought I burned all copies of this.” He turned the photograph around to face her, and in it were three children, a tall girl dressed up as Dorothy, a shorter boy dressed up as a lion, and a toddler dressed up as a dog.
“I was sneaky and saved one,” she said with a grin, “And I don’t understand why you did. You were cute.”
“Lindsay—everyone thought I was Cowardly Lion. And every single parent told me how freakin’ cute I was. They didn’t get the fact that I was supposed to be the Ferocious and Deadly Lion. It was the most disastrous Halloween ever.”
“Which only made things worse when you tried to tell them this, and they went crazy over the fact that you couldn’t say ‘ferocious.’”
“Yeah, well, is that my fault?” he smirked, and she shook her head, before pulling at him to get up.
“Give me a real hug,” she ordered, and he did so.
“It’s good to see you, Dean,” she whispered, then turning as she heard Sam come up behind them, “You too, Sammy.”
Sam opened his mouth to correct her, and she gave him a look, “Don’t you dare correct me, or I will kick your ass.” The look on Sam’s face melted into a smirk, and she grinned, “Considering that you two are probably broke, how bout I buy you dinner?”
“I’m game,” Sam replied.
“I appreciate it, Linds,” Dean replied, his eyes focused on something somewhere else, “But I think I’m gonna pass.”
“Dean, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Sam replied, “Lindsay never offers to pay.”
“He’s right,” Lindsay replied, “Even though it usually works out that way.”
“I know, but—I’ve got other plans tonight,” he said, before giving them a wink and walking away. They both watched as he walked over to where Jennifer Angell was standing, and Lindsay shook her head.
“He never stops, does he?”
“Apparently not,” Sam replied, watching his brother as he and Jennifer talked. Lindsay returned with her coat, and he gave her a grin, “Wait, hold on a second.”
“What?” she asked, and then followed his eyes.
“—four—three—two—one—” Sam counted down slowly before watching as the look on Dean’s face changed to slightly dejected, “—And shot down.”
“I could have saved him the trouble and told him that Angell was far out of his league,” Lindsay rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, well you know Dean,” Sam said, “He has to learn these things for himself.”
Dean walked back over and apologetic smile on his face, “Actually, Linds, I might just take you up on that offer.”
“Too late,” she replied, “Offer’s off the table. C’mon Sam—”
“Aww, c’mon Lindsay,” Dean whined, “I’m starving.”
“I hate it when he whines,” Lindsay said.
“You hate it?” Sam said, “You don’t have to spend hours in the car with him.”
“Good point.”
“Lindsay,” Dean interjected, giving her his most pathetic look, “Please?”
“You can come but you have to pay for yourself,” she replied, before leading the way out of the precinct.
“Lind-say,” he groaned as he followed, “You know I can’t—”
Fandom: CSI:NY/Supernatural
Title: Family Ties
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Lindsay Monroe, Jennifer Angell, Don Flack, with cameo appearances from John Winchester wee!Sam, Dean, and Lindsay, as well as Lindsay's parents.
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: Dean finds him in a bit of a predicament, and goes in search of a different member of his family.
Author's Note: I think this is going to be part of another Supernatural crossover series, just because I liked the way this turned out. Written for the Lost Ages Crossover Challenge over at
sn_crossovers. I think it kinda...died...but the bunny wouldn't go away, so since I wrote it, I decided to post it. I have to credit venetia_sassy with the cousin!Lindsay bunny, because without her saying something, I probably wouldn't have come up with it. Italics are flashbacks.Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY or Supernatural. They're owned by CBS and the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please don't use them without my permission.
Chapter 1
Well, this sucked.
He glanced around the bullpen of the precinct, trying to find the face he was looking for, but being at this vantage point was making it kind of hard. He had always hated being shorter than everyone, which made living with Sam a complete pain in the ass. But now he was really shorter than everyone, and it just—well—sucked.
And it wasn’t just that he was a midget. He actually looked like he was five freakin’ years-old. When he caught the sonuva bitch that did this to him, he wasn’t going to kill it; he was going to beat the ever living shit out of it.
And then he was going to kill it.
But right now he had to find someone that would actually believe him when he said that he was a twenty-seven year-old man trapped in a five year-old version of himself. And since he had lost Sam somewhere on the streets of New York, he only had one choice left, but it didn’t help matters that he hadn’t seen her in years. But it’s not like there was anything else he could do about it. He continued to wander further into the bullpen, and turned suddenly when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Well, hello.
“Easy there, little guy,” a tall, dark haired woman was crouching down behind him, giving him a smile, “I’m just here to help you out.”
Dean turned on his best smile, “How ya doin’?”
Officer Jennifer Angell was taken aback by how—grown-up—the kid sounded, “I’m Officer Angell.”
“‘Angel’ sure is right, sweetheart.”
Jennifer laughed, “What’s your name?”
“Dean,” he nodded.
“So—what brings you all the way down here, Dean?”
“Lookin’ for a pretty girl like you,” he charmed back, and Jennifer just laughed harder at him. He frowned slightly. That wasn’t the reaction he usually got when he landed that line, but then he looked down, and remembered.
Oh, yeah. He’s freakin’ five.
“Well, aren’t you the cuteset little—” Jennifer replied, “That’s very sweet of you. But I think you might be looking for something else.”
“Actually, I’m looking for my cousin, Lindsay Monroe,” he sighed, “Do you know her?”
“I do,” she nodded, “And you are in the wrong building.”
“I am?” he frowned, confused, “But this is the police station—”
“Yes it is,” she nodded, “But Lindsay is a CSI. Which means she works in the crimelab.” Jennifer got back on her feet and extended her hand to him, “Why don’t you let me take you over there?” The confusion only increased when the kid gave her his biggest grin and took her hand without question. What? No protest? No cooties? She only shrugged it off, before leading little Dean out the door and right to the crimelab.
***
“Lindsay?” Nine year-old Lindsay looked up from the dolls she was playing with, and turned to see her mother standing in the bedroom doorway, with two little boys. One she was holding in her arms, and the other she had by the had, although the boy didn’t seem to be very fond of the idea.
“Yes, Momma?” she said.
“You remember your Aunt Mary, don’t you?” Lindsay nodded and her mother continued, “Well, this is your cousin, Dean—” she gestured to the boy who’s hand she was holding, and then turned to the one in her arms, “—and this is your cousin, Sammy.”
“Hi,” Lindsay said, and Dean gave her a small wave.
“They’re gonna be stayin’ with us for a little while,” her mother continued, “So I want you to be nice, and share all your toys with them, alright?”
“Yes, Momma,” she nodded, before Harriet let Dean’s hand go, and then walked over and placed Sam down on the ground next to Lindsay.
“You have to watch Sammy,” Dean said quietly, and Sam leaned over, thick dark hair falling in his face as reached for a toy, “He puts everything in his mouth.”
“All babies do that,” she replied, “My friend Nikki—her baby sister does it all the time.”
“Oh,” Dean said. There was a pause, and then he continued, “How old are you?”
“Nine. You?”
“I’m five,” he replied, “Sammy’s only one.” Lindsay nodded, before studying the boy again, trying to figure out what to do with him. She hesitated for a second, before handing a Barbie doll to him, “You wanna play?”
“Ew, no,” he said, pulling away, “Dolls are for girls.”
“Duh,” she said, before pointing to herself, “I’m a girl.”
“Well—don’t you have any trucks or cars or anything?”
“No,” she said, giving him a look, “Trucks are for boys.” He turned and looked at her, and she could almost predict the response before it came out of his mouth.
“Duh.”
Lindsay Monroe froze when she spotted the little boy holding Angell’s hand. She just stopped and stared. There’s no way that that could be who she thought it was. It was just—impossible—but apparently—it had to be. There was no other explanation for the five year-old spitting image of her cousin Dean, looking around the room like he was searching for someone familiar. She blinked slightly, but didn’t move, wondering what kind of—explanation—Dean was going to have for her.
“You alright, Montana?” Danny asked as he came up behind her, and Lindsay shook her head slowly, as though coming out of a trance.
“Yeah, I’m just—surprised,” she replied, before moving towards where Angell and Dean were standing. She tilted her head slightly, before speaking. “Dean?”
The little boy turned around, and threw his arms around Lindsay’s legs, “Lindsay, thank God!” Her legs buckled slightly, but she didn’t topple onto him.
“So you do know this kid?” Angell asked, and she nodded.
“He’s my cousin,” Lindsay replied. She then crouched down in front of him, a confused look on her face, “Dean? What are you doing here?” Why do you look like you’re five?
“Umm—” he glanced over at Angell, before continuing, “I kinda—got lost, and I knew that you were a cop in the city, so I figured I’d go to the police station and—”
“You know what, why don’t we go over to the break room and get you something to eat, OK?” She stood up and extended her hand to him, and he shot her a look.
“I don’t need to hold your freakin’ hand,” he growled so that only she could hear, “I’m twenty-seven years-old for cryin’ out loud.”
“Yeah, but you look like your five so deal with it,” she bit back, and watched as his face turned into a pout, and her hand slipped into his.
Chapter 2
“You have to hold my hand, Dean,” Nine year-old Lindsay said as she took Dean’s hand in hers, clutching it tightly, “Or else the cars’ll squash you like a pancake.”
“But I don’t wanna hold your hand,” the five year-old boy whined, watching as she took Sam’s hand in the other, “You have cooties!”
“Ew! No, I don’t!” she said, giving him a look, “Everyone knows that the boys are the one’s that have cooties.”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Do not!”
“Do too!”
“Lindsay! Dean!” They both looked up and saw Lindsay’s father leaning over them, before scooping up little Sam into his arms, “If you two don’t shut your yaps about it, Sammy here’s gonna be the only one that gets any candy. You understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Yes, Uncle Rick.”
“Now, Dean, hold Lindsay’s hand until we get across the street.” Dean obediently did so, a sullen look on his face.
“What’s Sammy gonna do with the candy?” he muttered, “He can’t eat it. He barely has any teeth—”
“So—” she began, placing a cup of water and a sandwich down in front of him, “What’s goin’ on? Where’s Uncle John?” Dean looked up at her uncertainly, before responding.
“You didn’t hear?”
“Didn’t hear what?”
“He’s dead, Lindsay,” Dean replied, and she closed her eyes, letting the news wash over her, before turning back to look at him.
“For how long?”
“A few months.”
“What—what killed him?” she asked, finding the news a bit hard to swallow. Uncle John? Dead?—Impossible.
Dean paused for a minute, before responding, “Car accident.”
“Oh,” she sighed, “Well, that wasn’t how I thought he would go down.”
“Yeah,” Dean said, looking away from her slightly, “Me either.”
Lindsay shook her head before moving on, “Well—are you in the city by yourself?”
“No,” he shook his head, “Sammy’s here. I just—lost him.”
“Does he have a cell phone?” she asked, before pulling out her own.
“Yeah,” he nodded, before rambling off the number. She listened to it ring, and the frowned at Dean.
“I thought he was at Stanford.”
A smug grin crossed his face, and he shook his head, “I knew you two kept in touch.”
“So what happened?”
“Things got stressful. He decided to take a semester off.”
“Oh,” Lindsay sighed, “I see.”
“He’s still a geek, though,” Dean shook his head, “And you’re a scientist?”
“Criminalist,” she corrected.
“But you still use science, right?”
“Yes.”
“Geek.”
“Watch it, little cousin,” she teased, listening to Sam’s machine as it picked up, “For the first time in a long time, I’m taller than you are.”
Dean remained silent but the grin remained on his face. He waited till she finished leaving her message before responding, “You’re gonna cry when you see Sammy. He’s like the Jolly Green Giant.”
Lindsay rolled her eyes. She then pushed at the sandwich she made him, “Eat.”
“Not hungry.”
“I made it for you.”
“That’s why.” Lindsay shot him a glare before getting up.
“Stay put. I’ll get someone to come in and sit with you.”
Dean’s head perked up at that, “Lindsay, if you love me at all, make sure it’s—”
“Hey, Flack!”
“No, no!” he complained, giving her a look.
Don Flack appeared in the doorway, and shrugged, “What can I do for ya, Monroe?”
“You busy?”
“Was just about to grab lunch.”
“Mind eating with him?” she asked, pointing to Dean, “It should only be a little bit, till I get a hold of his brother, but I have to get back to work.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Flack nodded, “I’ll sit with the little guy.”
“Great, thanks,” she said, before walking out of the room. Flack walked over to the breakroom fridge and grabbed his lunch, before sitting down across from Dean.
“So—” he began slowly, “How do you know Lindsay?”
“She’s my cousin,” Dean replied.
“Oh,” Flack nodded, before pausing for a moment, “So—great weather we’ve been having, huh?” Dean closed his eyes, and then started to bang his forehead lightly on the table.
Chapter 3
“Hey Lindsay,” nine year-old Sam walked over, sitting down next to her at the kitchen counter. The Winchesters were passing through on their way to their next makeshift home, and seventeen year-old Lindsay was sitting at the table, pouring over the books in front of her. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Physics,” she replied with a groan.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a kind of science,” she replied, “With a lot of math.”
“Can I see?” he asked, and she gave him a skeptical look, before pushing the book in his direction.
“Knock yourself out, Sammy.” Sam leaned over to read the book, when loud voices were suddenly heard coming from the direction of the living room.
“—forgive me for thinking that those boys should have a home!” Lindsay’s mother’s voice echoed through the doorway, “They’re children, John. What you’re exposing them too—you’re going to make them grow up too fast.”
“They’re my children, Harriet,” John roared back, “They’re all I have left, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna lose them to what’s out there. They’re gonna be ready for whatever comes after them.”
“Well, what are they going to do with their lives, John?” Harriet said, glaring at him, “This? Run credit card scams and fraud while driving all over the country searching for God knows what?”
“I do it,” John replied, “I’m saving lives.”
“But that’s not a life, John,” she replied, and the argument faded into the background, when Lindsay felt Sam’s hand on her arm, and heard the soft voice next to her.
“Hey, Lindsay?” he asked as she turned to him, “Will you teach me physics?” She laughed slightly before nodding.
“Sure, Sammy. I’ll teach you physics.”
Lindsay laughed out loud when she saw the tall man standing at reception waiting for her. When Dean said Sam had turned into the Jolly Green Giant, he hadn’t been kidding. Sam turned to her with a smile, but was slightly confused.
“What?” he asked, “That happy to see me?”
She shook her head no, with a slight pout, “Just remembering a time when I used to be the tallest out of the three of us.”
“Dean told you I grew?”
“He told me I was going to cry when I saw you,” Lindsay replied, “I think I still might.” She then held out her hands to him, gesturing for him to come forward, “C’mon, College Boy. Give me a hug.”
He did as he was told and she pulled back and then led the way down the hallway. “How was Stanford?” she asked.
“Pretty good,” Sam nodded, “It was hard in the beginning, but—I got there.”
“Good,” Lindsay nodded, “Wanna tell me how Dean became trapped in his five year-old self?”
Sam smirked, “We were chasing some kind of witch thing. It cast a spell that de-aged whoever was in front of them. And Dean being Dean—”
“Ran in, guns blazing, and suddenly found himself in an earlier time,” Lindsay sighed.
“Exactly,” Sam nodded, “We were going after the thing to try and get it to change him back, but I lost him in the crowd or something.”
Lindsay shrugged, “At least he knew to come here, instead of trying to find you on his own.” She gave her cousin a smirk, “He has gotten smarter since I saw him last.”
“Yeah—apparently some things are capable of sticking,” Sam grinned. He then looked over at Lindsay. “So—you got out of Montana.”
“I got out of Montana,” she nodded, “And now I’m here.”
“Well, I have to say,” Sam sighed, “I think I prefer this to Montana.”
“So do I,” Lindsay said, “It’s a pretty awesome place to be.”
“Good,” Sam nodded, before getting down to business, “So—where is mini-Dean?”
“Breakroom,” she replied before leading the way. They arrived and Dean shot Sam an angry look.
“What took you so long?”
“Sorry,” Sam said defensively, “But the Impala is not necessarily the easiest thing to navigate in Midtown traffic.”
“You were driving my car in this?” Dean said, glaring at his brother, “I swear to God, Sam, if there’s one dent on that car—”
“His car?” Flack frowned, confused.
“It’s—going to be his,” Lindsay stammered, covering for Dean, “When he gets old enough to drive it.”
Dean ran a hand over his face, “Can we just go, please?”
“Sure, yeah,” Sam nodded with a grin, “Let’s go. I’ll see you later, Linds.”
They disappeared out the door, and Flack turned to Lindsay with a look on his face. “So that’s your—cousin?”
“Yup,” Lindsay nodded.
“No offense to your family, Monroe—but that is one weird kid.”
“None taken, Flack,” Lindsay laughed, “Really.”
Chapter 4
“Dean! Stay still!” Lindsay scolded as she grabbed him by the chin, holding his head in place.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to move if it didn’t sting like a bitch,” he shouted back at her, wincing as she placed the alcohol pad against his head again.
“Well, it’s alcohol,” Lindsay replied, “If it stings that means it’s doing it’s job.” He rolled his eyes at her, hissing when she reapplied it, cleaning the cut on his head. After she bandaged him up, she let him go, stepping back and crossing her arms across her chest. “Do I even want to know how you got this one?”
“No,” he replied, the same answer he gave every time, because he knew she already knew.
“That’s what I thought,” she sighed, walking away from him into the living room. She stopped at the linen closet, and grabbed some sheets and pillows, heading over to make up the couch.
“You wanna tell me something,” he said, following her.
“What?” she frowned, turning to look at him.
“You didn’t press the issue,” Dean sighed, “Which means you have something you have to tell me, and I’m not gonna like it.”
She pursed her lips slightly, before speaking, “Where’s your dad, anyway?”
“Since when do you care,” he accused, giving her a look.
“Dean—”
“Just fuckin’ spit it out, Lindsay,” he said, as she turned to face him, “Don’t just dance around it like I’m a little kid.”
“I’m leaving Montana.” The words were practically a whisper, but he heard them, and his face became less angry and more dejected.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet,” she sighed, “I’ve put in transfers to anywhere and everywhere I can think of. I just—I need to get out of Bozeman.”
“I know,” he replied softly, before going to sit down on the couch.
She gave him a small smile, before walking over and sitting down next to him, “You know no matter where I go, you can always sleep on my couch.”
“I know,” he said, giving her a smile, “It’s just—it’s gonna be weird, you know?”
“Yeah,” she said, “I know.”
She smiled when she saw the young man sitting at her desk, holding a framed photograph in his hand, just staring at it. She knew exactly what picture it was, without even having to see it, because it was the only one that he would have remotely recognized anyone in.
“Looks like you’re back to your normal self,” she said with a smirk.
“Yeah,” he murmured. When he looked up and saw her, he shook his head. “I thought I burned all copies of this.” He turned the photograph around to face her, and in it were three children, a tall girl dressed up as Dorothy, a shorter boy dressed up as a lion, and a toddler dressed up as a dog.
“I was sneaky and saved one,” she said with a grin, “And I don’t understand why you did. You were cute.”
“Lindsay—everyone thought I was Cowardly Lion. And every single parent told me how freakin’ cute I was. They didn’t get the fact that I was supposed to be the Ferocious and Deadly Lion. It was the most disastrous Halloween ever.”
“Which only made things worse when you tried to tell them this, and they went crazy over the fact that you couldn’t say ‘ferocious.’”
“Yeah, well, is that my fault?” he smirked, and she shook her head, before pulling at him to get up.
“Give me a real hug,” she ordered, and he did so.
“It’s good to see you, Dean,” she whispered, then turning as she heard Sam come up behind them, “You too, Sammy.”
Sam opened his mouth to correct her, and she gave him a look, “Don’t you dare correct me, or I will kick your ass.” The look on Sam’s face melted into a smirk, and she grinned, “Considering that you two are probably broke, how bout I buy you dinner?”
“I’m game,” Sam replied.
“I appreciate it, Linds,” Dean replied, his eyes focused on something somewhere else, “But I think I’m gonna pass.”
“Dean, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity,” Sam replied, “Lindsay never offers to pay.”
“He’s right,” Lindsay replied, “Even though it usually works out that way.”
“I know, but—I’ve got other plans tonight,” he said, before giving them a wink and walking away. They both watched as he walked over to where Jennifer Angell was standing, and Lindsay shook her head.
“He never stops, does he?”
“Apparently not,” Sam replied, watching his brother as he and Jennifer talked. Lindsay returned with her coat, and he gave her a grin, “Wait, hold on a second.”
“What?” she asked, and then followed his eyes.
“—four—three—two—one—” Sam counted down slowly before watching as the look on Dean’s face changed to slightly dejected, “—And shot down.”
“I could have saved him the trouble and told him that Angell was far out of his league,” Lindsay rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, well you know Dean,” Sam said, “He has to learn these things for himself.”
Dean walked back over and apologetic smile on his face, “Actually, Linds, I might just take you up on that offer.”
“Too late,” she replied, “Offer’s off the table. C’mon Sam—”
“Aww, c’mon Lindsay,” Dean whined, “I’m starving.”
“I hate it when he whines,” Lindsay said.
“You hate it?” Sam said, “You don’t have to spend hours in the car with him.”
“Good point.”
“Lindsay,” Dean interjected, giving her his most pathetic look, “Please?”
“You can come but you have to pay for yourself,” she replied, before leading the way out of the precinct.
“Lind-say,” he groaned as he followed, “You know I can’t—”
no subject
no subject
i'm glad you liked it.
no subject
no subject
no subject
But now he was really shorter than everyone, and it just—well—sucked.
And it wasn’t just that he was a midget. He actually looked like he was five freakin’ years-old. When he caught the sonuva bitch that did this to him, he wasn’t going to kill it; he was going to beat the ever living shit out of it.
And then he was going to kill it.
Great opening! The scene with Angell was hilarious. In fact, everything to do with Angell & Dean was hilarious.
“I don’t need to hold your freakin’ hand,” he growled so that only she could hear, “I’m twenty-seven years-old for cryin’ out loud.”
“Yeah, but you look like your five so deal with it,” she bit back, and watched as his face turned into a pout, and her hand slipped into his.
Lindsay reacted with great equanimity, I thought. And Dean's so very much himself, even if he is a little short ...
I loved Dean having a go at Sam about the car. And the photo with all attendant embarrassing family stories. I thought the flashbacks were excellent, how they added depth & history to the relationships.
“No offense to your family, Monroe—but that is one weird kid.”
“None taken, Flack,” Lindsay laughed, “Really.”
It's one weird family Flack. If only you knew ...
no subject
i'm glad you liked it.
no subject
no subject
i'm glad you liked it.
no subject
And you're right about the Lost Ages Challenge sort of dying. Then again, all of my challenges seem to die. Which is why I rarely make challenges.
But if my poor, neglected challenges can inspire even a few fics like this, it's all good. :D
no subject
aww...i liked the idea, but it was a bit harder to think of a crossover for it. but then this hit me, and it just--worked.
i'm glad you liked it.
no subject
no subject